22:28 / 10:28 P.M. IST
Nir awoke with the opening of the door. Panic filled him, and his breathing accelerated. He pulled himself back protectively against the wall. But maybe his Filipino friend had returned.
A shadow crossed the floor, then knelt next to him. The glow from outside the door went out, plunging the room in total darkness.
“Nir, it’s time to go.”
It was Dima’s voice. Tears of relief flooded Nir’s eyes.
“Coms are down. Secondary protocols.”
Nir was momentarily confused until he heard another voice say, “Root.”
“Come on, achi, we’ve got to get you on your feet.”
The second man began cutting the ropes from Nir’s extremities. The pain was intense, and the raw circles around his ankles and wrists caused him to involuntarily pull back.
“Ani mitnatzelet,” the man said, apologizing as he continued his work. Nir didn’t recognize his voice.
When Nir was free, Dima helped him stand. It had been so long since he had been on his feet that his legs were weak, and his knees and ankles were swollen from the cricket bat. He tried to take a step but stumbled.
“Need me to carry you?” Dima asked.
“I’ve got it.” His arm went around Dima’s neck, and the man half led, half dragged Nir out of the room.
“You smell like borscht,” Nir said, his head lolling against the Russian’s shoulder.
“You don’t want to know what you smell like. I can’t wait to throw you into the ocean.”
Footsteps sounded up ahead. Two suppressed double taps echoed in the hallway, followed by the sound of bodies hitting the ground. In the brief muzzle flashes, Nir saw a soldier in front of them wearing night vision goggles. He wore the coveted batwings of Shayetet 13 on his shoulders.
“Careful,” Dima said, and Nir felt the bodies of the dead men under his bare feet as they passed them.
After another turn, light appeared ahead. As they approached, Nir saw it was from the moon reflecting off the ocean’s surface. Two men were waiting, and one more was in the water.
“Achi, you look like death.” It was Yaron. “And you smell worse.”
“I could still knock you out, old man,” Nir wheezed.
“Right this way, Ha’mefaked,” said the man in the water.
Nir looked to Dima, who said, “It’s all right. I’m going to strap you to me, and we’ve got air.”
Nir nodded. He felt steady enough to let go of Dima.
Two more shots fired from the doorway of the garage.
“We’ve got to get going,” called the Shayetet 13 commando as he changed mags in his gun.
From somewhere outside the garage door, Nir could hear unsuppressed shots fired. “Wait. Where’s Imri?” he asked, looking around.
Yaron answered. “Taking care of the chopper up top. He and a couple of other batwings will join us as soon as they can.”
Doron stepped forward and took charge of him. “Come on. We’ve got to get you tanked and strapped in.”
Three minutes later, Nir and Dima dropped into the water. Nir hadn’t realized how many places his skin had opened until that moment. The pain was so intense that he probably would have frozen up and sunk to the bottom if he hadn’t been strapped to the back of the big Russian Jew.
Soon, they were moving. Nir had no opportunity to reflect or even think at all as he held on to Dima’s back. He didn’t like the closed-in feeling of being trapped underwater, and the scuba gear was making him feel claustrophobic. On top of that, the continual movement of the underwater scooter kept the saltwater passing over and through his cuts and gouges. Letting his brain shut down, he lost track of time.
He felt the deceleration before he saw the boats. When they surfaced, he spotted two Morena rigid-hulled inflatables with two men on each one. As they drew alongside, the Shayetet 13 commandos tied off the underwater scooters and hauled the men in. Nir was pulled in first, followed by Dima. With surprising gentleness, Dima toweled Nir off, then wrapped him in a blanket. One of the batwings handed Nir a communication bud, which he placed into his ear.
“This is Team Lead,” he said.
The cheering on the other end was deafening. Once again, tears came to Nir’s eyes. I am not going to cry in front of Shayetet 13. I’ll dive back into the water first!
“How are you, Team Lead?” Nicole’s voice. For a time, he hadn’t known if he’d ever hear it again.
Pushing down his emotions, he said, “Been better. I’ll survive. Where’s Imri?”
“We have no contact with him. We scrambled the cell service around the boat, which left us without coms. This is the first we’ve heard from your team since the op started.”
Nir’s relief at his rescue now turned to agitation. His body screamed for rest and medical attention, but as long as Imri was still out there, he wouldn’t leave. The rest of the team was finishing loading in.
“Boss, you okay?” asked Doron.
“I will be when Imri gets here. When and with what are we rendezvousing?”
“We’re being picked up by a sub five kilometers from here. They’re waiting for us now.”
There was a stir in the water, and an underwater craft surfaced, followed by a second and a third. The first pilot removed his mask, and Nir breathed a sigh of relief.
“You think the whole world waits on you, Zaid?” Nir called out.
“Okay, Boomer.”
On his com, he heard Liora say to someone, “Esh! I told you he’d say it.”
Once Imri was aboard, Nir asked, “You get the chopper grounded?”
“It’s not going anywhere. How’re you doing?”
Nir just nodded. His words were gone. His energy was gone. His will to even sit up was rapidly leaving.
“Preparing to blow the boat,” Liora said.
Somehow, Nir had forgotten about this part. The whole purpose behind his capture and torture. The final act that would open the Saudi skies to the Israeli Air Force so they could crush the Iranian nuclear program once and for all. Operation Bezalel was actually happening.
Everyone on the two inflatables turned back in the direction of the yacht so they could see the distant fireball.
Suddenly, Nir thought of the Filipino steward. And it wasn’t just him. A whole crew was on board.
“Five…” counted Liora.
No innocents. That’s a Mossad creed. Israel doesn’t do collateral damage, if at all possible.
“Four…”
Nir jumped up and tried to say something, but he broke into a coughing fit.
“Three…”
The coughing grew until he fell back to his seat. Doron grabbed hold to steady him.
“Two—”
“Stop,” Nir gasped.
“We’ve got you, achi,” said Doron.
“One—”
“Stop! You don’t understand. It’s—”