THE NEXT MORNING
DOHA, QATAR—AUGUST 23, 2021—06:15 / 6:15 A.M. AST
Voices. They sounded echoey and distant. And they weren’t speaking right. The words were garbled. Confused.
Nir sucked in a deep breath, then another. The voices were growing louder, clearer. He realized the words weren’t jumbled. They were just in another language. Arabic. He chanced opening his eyes, cautious about the possible brightness. But there was no great glare. As he looked around, it appeared the only light source was from a line of windows two thirds of the way up on three of four walls.
He spotted two men dressed in black wearing balaclavas over their faces. Noticing that Nir was conscious, one of them walked out a door, closing it behind him. The second raised a rifle in Nir’s direction.
“I will shoot,” he said in broken Hebrew.
“Your Hebrew sucks,” Nir responded in Arabic, surprised at how croaky his voice sounded.
Well, it’s obvious they know who I am. And so it begins…
He’d been stripped to his boxers and was sitting on a folding metal chair. His hands were bound behind him, and when he tugged on them, he heard chain links rattling. He assumed his numerous aches and scuffs were from being transported in the trunk he’d seen back in the hotel room. He had no idea how long ago that had been.
Absolutely nothing can happen in these next hours to make them anything less than terrible. Prepare yourself. Endure. Survive. Get under their skin. Then pay them back.
The door opened. Four well-armed, black-clad, masked men walked in and took up positions, two on each side of the door. They were followed by two more men, one older than the other. Each was wearing a white Saudi thawb. On their heads they wore the traditional red-and-white-checkered ghutra, held in place by the black cord of the igal. Neither man was masked, and both wore full beards.
“He speaks Arabic,” the man with the poor Hebrew skills said.
“Good to know,” said the older of the men.
They stood in front of Nir and looked down at him. The younger one wore a look of disgust while the older looked amused.
“You want me to pose? Maybe talk sexy to you?” Nir asked.
“I don’t think you are in a position to be making jokes, Mr. Tavor,” said the older man with disdain.
“They say if you don’t have your humor, you don’t have anything.” Nir looked down at himself. “I’d say that’s pretty true for me right now.”
Now the man smiled. “Yes, that is certainly true for you. Unfortunately, I also don’t think you’ll maintain your humor for much longer.”
“Try me.”
“Oh, I will.” The man snapped his fingers, and one of the men in black brought a chair and unfolded it. Sliding it in front of Nir, the man sat down.
“What did you do to your head?” he asked, pointing to the row of staples where Nir had been shot.
Nir hadn’t realized they’d pulled off the adhesive covering. “Cut myself shaving. Thanks for caring.”
The man glared at Nir. “Why are you in Qatar, Mr. Tavor?”
“I’m an air-conditioning salesman. Making a killing.”
“Ilyas,” the man called out. One of the other men in black began walking toward them. With a flick of his wrist, he telescoped out a black, metal baton, then struck Nir across his shoulder blades. The pain felt like the man had just snapped him in half.
“Oh, that sucked,” he said through gritted teeth. “Good thing you hit like a girl, Ilyas, or that would have really hurt.”
Again, the baton struck his shoulders, followed by a shot to his right side.
This time Nir couldn’t speak. The pain had taken all his wind.
The old man spoke. “Now, if you’re through with your little games, I have some questions I want to ask you.”
“I’m all ears,” Nir said through clenched teeth.
“Once again, why are you in Qatar?”
“I’m an air-conditioning—”
The boot of the black-clad man connected with Nir’s chest, toppling him over backward. His head hit the cement of the floor, and he saw flares in his vision. The baton connected with the bottom of his bare feet once, twice, three times, and then a fourth. Nir’s vision momentarily grayed from the pain.
One of the other men ran over to help set Nir and his chair upright again.
Oh, Nicole, I hope you’re praying to your Jesus right now, he thought, picturing her with her head bowed like she did before they ate together.
His head was hanging to his chest, and he was trying to keep his feet from touching the floor. “Ilyas,” he growled, “one of these days you and I are going to have words.”
His abuser stepped forward, but the older Saudi held up his hand.
“Okay, Mr. Tavor. You’ve proven you’re a tough man. If anyone asks us, we’ll say yes, he was very impressive. But you and I both know you will eventually tell me what I want to know. Everyone has their breaking point.”
Nir took several deep breaths, then looked up at the man. “Listen, I appreciate your offering to give me a reference next time I’m applying for a job, but you’ve got to understand that I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
The man sighed. “And yet you provoke us. Why are you Jews always so exasperating?”
“Tell me about it. Why do you think I never got married?”
“Consider yourself blessed. I married four times.”
Nir shook his head. “You Saudis. Everything in excess.”
“Maybe so. Now let’s try this another way. It is obvious that I know who you are. What may surprise you is that I also know why you are here. You have come to meet with a member of the Saudi crown prince’s staff.”
“Boom. You caught me. Now that that’s settled, how about we call it a day?”
“And the reason you planned to meet was to pass some information to him. First, you were going to tell him a man named Ali Kamal is plotting a coup against the royal family.”
“Plotting against the royal family? What kind of an idiot is this Ali Kamal?”
“I am Ali Kamal.” The man was angry now.
“You don’t say. I pictured you thinner.”
Kamal reached over and cuffed Nir on the side of the head. His ear started ringing, and his jaw stiffened.
“Not bad for a fat old man,” he said.
Kamal paused as if he was trying to gain control of his anger. Then he said, “I imagine you are surprised that I intercepted your mission. You must understand that I am very well connected, and I have powerful friends. Now, as you can imagine, I can’t have you taking my name to the crown prince’s staff.”
“You do know there’s a whole country of people just like me right on the other side of Jordan from you? Been there since 1948. You don’t think they’ll just send somebody else?”
Kamal laughed. “That’s the beauty. Of course you Jews will send somebody else, but by then it will be too late. Because you are my bargaining chip. You are what is going to get me the army I need to take the royals down.”
It was Nir’s turn to laugh. “Really? Me? I mean, I’m handsome and all, and you can probably tell I’ve been working on my pecs, but I’m really not much of a bargaining chip. Israel won’t fight a war for you just to get me back, and I can’t think of any other country where I’m that hot of a commodity.”
Kamal’s bravado was back now. “Oh, I can. You’re all smart and smug, but I know more than you think. I know the other piece of information you’re bringing. You’re here to inform the crown prince of the date and time Israel will attempt to destroy Iran’s nuclear program.”
Nir let the surprise show on his face. “I hate to break it to you, habibi, but we aren’t in the habit of passing on our military plans to any country, particularly to you Saudis.”
“You will if you need our airspace.”
Nir said nothing.
“Ha! You thought I was a fool. But you will tell me what I want to know, and I will pass it to my Iranian friends in exchange for their giving me the Houthis as my army.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nir said quietly.
“Suddenly, you’re not so smug. Tell me, Mr. Nir Tavor, agent of the Mossad, who is the fool now?”
Kamal swung, connecting with Nir’s cheek and making his head snap sideways. A second punch opened a cut under his eye. After a third punch, Kamal cried out and grabbed his hand.
Spitting blood onto the man’s white robe, Nir said, “Aw, did my face hurt your little hand, you soft tub of pig fat?”
Ilyas stepped behind Nir. A rope whipped around his neck and cinched tight, and Nir gasped for air. Tighter and tighter it was pulled until he felt like his windpipe would snap.
This isn’t the way it’s supposed to go, Nir thought through panic. If I die here, it’s all lost. Please, God, make it stop. Not for my sake, but for all those who need this plan to work.
The rope went slack, and when Nir felt a glancing blow of the baton across his skull, sharp pain radiated down his spine.
Ilyas whispered in his ear, “Please keep resisting.”
The rope went taut again. Nir arched his body upward, trying desperately to find air. His lungs burned. His mind began to give way to the helplessness even as his body thrashed.
“Stop!” The rope loosened, and Nir gulped in air. He didn’t recognize the voice that had just saved his life. But then through his watery eyes he saw the younger man in the thawb and ghutra walk toward him. He began examining the crease under Nir’s right pectoral muscle.
Oh no, here it goes, Nir thought, preparing himself. This was the whole reason for his antagonizing his captors. He needed them angry, so that they would really work him over. All for these next few moments.
The man pinched the skin, then pinched deeper.
“Bring a knife,” he said.
Ilyas stepped toward him and unfolded a blade.
“Cut there,” the man said. “That little bump alongside the scar.”
Ilyas did, and Nir cried out. The Saudi reached around the incision, then cut deeper. Nir could feel him rooting around with the tip of the knife under his skin.
“Got it,” Ilyas said. “It’s a tracker. I told you we needed the ability to check him for devices.”
“We need to go immediately,” said the younger Saudi in white, concern on his face. “His people know where he is.”
Ilyas slammed his fist into Nir’s right temple, and he sprawled to the floor. A hand grabbed Nir by the hair and lifted his head. It was Kamal. “You think you’ve survived this? You’ve only made it much worse, you Jew pig. Now I’m going to call my Iranian friend, and he’s going to bring the professionals. You’re going to wish you had told me what I wanted to know so I could have just put a bullet in your brain.” He threw Nir’s head back down to the cement.
As his vision turned from gray to black, Nir heard Kamal say, “Get the syringe and the trunk. We’re taking a trip.”