CARL, MOSSAD HEADQUARTERS, TEL AVIV, ISRAEL—20:22 / 8:22 P.M. IDT
Stop!” The power of the ramsad’s voice startled Nicole.
“Hold, hold, hold!” Liora called out.
There was silence on the coms and silence in the room. All eyes were on Ira Katz.
“Tavor, talk,” the ramsad commanded.
“Ha’mefaked, we can’t launch yet.” Nicole could barely hear Nir’s strained words.
“I need a very good explanation as to why, because we are one button push away from accomplishing the entire mission—exactly as you laid out, I might add.”
“You’re right. But I have new information. This will not wash out the mission. It will only delay it.”
“Talk.”
“There are—” Nir’s voice cracked, and there was a pause. “Thanks,” he said to someone nearby. When he spoke again, his voice was much clearer. “In the Mossad, we take the lives of the guilty while striving to protect the innocents as much as is possible, right? Proportionality is what I was taught in training. If innocents must be caught up in the operation, it must be for a very good reason and there must be no other option. That was true when we planned out this mission.”
“I would think that protecting Israel and the rest of the world from a nuclear Iran is a proportional cause,” the ramsad said.
Nicole wasn’t sure where Nir was going with this, but one thing was becoming evident. Her night of worrying about his safety was not over.
“It is. The proportional criteria is met. However, now that I’ve been onsite, I see another option. Ha’mefaked, according to our intel, there are typically twenty-four crew on board this yacht at any given time. We didn’t think we could save them. Now I believe we can.”
Cohen cut in. “Nir, we talked about this. It is tragic, but there is a price for working for a gunrunning, terrorist-supporting billionaire.”
“But do they know that’s who he is? I thought so before, but now I don’t.”
“Why?” asked the ramsad. “What made you change your mind? You know you’re asking men to risk their lives for these people?”
“I know I am. But I’m asking only because it must be done. Our nation cannot protect its existence at the expense of its soul.”
Cohen had moved next to the ramsad, and the two were now in a hushed discussion.
Nicole had never been so proud of Nir—nor so angry with him. He was right, but a voice inside kept telling her he would pay dearly for this. Lord, I know I’m feeling doubt, and doubt is a lack of trust in You. Bless Nir and these men for their commitment to what is right. Protect them. Bring them home.
Nir spoke again. “Ramsad, how many times did we have Fakhrizadeh in our sights but held back to protect the innocent? How many times did we have Soleimani dead to rights but left it to the Americans because all our options would harm his children?”
“Quiet, Tavor,” Katz said.
“You have the trigger. We will blow the boat. We just have to try this first.”
“Nir, shut up,” Cohen yelled before going back to his discussion with the ramsad.
Then the ramsad looked at Nicole. “You’ve been on the boat. You’ve seen these people. What do you say?”
Nicole knew her next words could cost Nir his life. But like him, she didn’t have a choice. “You’ve got to let them try.”
The ramsad’s bloodshot eyes told her the weight of every life on those two teams bore heavily on his shoulders. “Yes, it appears I do, don’t I? Tavor, I’m approving this mission. But I have two demands. First, it will be run by the Shayetet 13 lead. Your team will be part of it, but I want the best military operators in charge, and that’s not Kidon.”
“Yes, Ha’mefaked.”
“Second, under no circumstances are you to be part of it. I want you back on the sub as soon as possible. You’re in no condition to be on an assault team. Am I understood?”
No response.
“Am I understood?”
“Yes, Ha’mefaked.”
“Good, you have one hour. Make it count.”
“Thank you. Team Lead, out.”
The ramsad leaned back into his chair and took his cell phone out of his shirt pocket. “He’s going on the raid, isn’t he?”
“One hundred percent,” Nicole and Cohen said in unison.
ARABIAN SEA, OFF MUMBAI, INDIA—23:01 / 11:01 P.M. IST
“I need your uniform,” Nir said, pointing to one of the batwings who’d been manning the boats.
“Tiraga, slow down here,” said S5, the Shayetet 13 squad lead. “I say which of my team strips naked and for whom. So you’re going?”
“You stopping me?”
The man put up his hands defensively. “Lighten up. It’s only a question. I’ve just never heard of anyone defying old Ira Katz before.”
Nir let his hackles settle back down. “He’s a teddy bear when you get to know him.”
“Yeah, a teddy bear with a limpet mine inside. Listen, Tavor. I don’t recommend you go. You look like a mess, and you’re bleeding all over my boat. But I also recognize that you don’t give a rip about my recommendation. So as the new leader of this operation, I’m faced with a dilemma.”
“Think fast,” Nir said, sitting down. “Anyone have an energy bar or something?” One of the batwings pulled one out of a pocket and tossed it to him. Nir missed, but Doron caught it on the deflection.
S5 shook his head. “Listen, with what you just went through, and now you’re sitting here looking like someone ran you through a fish-hook factory, you’re saying you want to go back to the guys who did this to you? That’s stupid beyond measure. But I also have mad respect for it, and I’d like to think I’d do the same if I were in your position. So it’s not my place to tell you no. Instead, I’m just going to tell you it’s a really stupid idea.”
“Duly noted.” Relief flooded through Nir. He really didn’t want a battle with this man. He needed to conserve his energy for the real struggle ahead.
Holding out his hand, he said, “Thanks…”
“Azoulai. Omer Azoulai. And you’re not taking the clothes off one of my men. You earn that uniform. I’ll put a navy uni on our shopping list from the sub. So you’re saying we need to evac twenty-four souls?”
“It’s an estimate. How many more inflatables like this are on the sub?”
“They’ve got a total of five.”
“Okay, let’s bring two extra. It will be crowded, but they’ll manage them ashore. I’m sure the captain and his crew can figure out how to pilot them.”
“We’re just leaving the boats with them? We don’t have time to make them anonymous.”
Nir shook his head. “No, keeping them identified will only help. Part of our mission was to make the operation distinctly Israeli. Those boats can serve as our calling cards. Now, you just tell me how we’re going to get back on that yacht.”
“Yeah, I’ve got an idea.”