Taylor’s fingers dug into Jordan’s shoulder. “What’s going on? Where is Lucy?”
Jordan turned to face him, trying to stay positive. “She’s not at the apartment, but according to Ganani, nothing’s been disturbed. There’s no reason to believe that she and Lotner didn’t just go out for a bit. Maybe they went to a movie. Or maybe he had to go into his office and he took her with him.”
She watched as he struggled to keep his emotions in check, and then she told Walker to head north.
They stopped to get gas on the outskirts of Tel Aviv. She and Taylor stayed in the car while Walker disconnected the DSS radio. He disposed of it in the store dumpster and then went inside, coming back with five burner phones, three bottles of water, and three granola bars. Within the hour, they were pulling into the parking lot near the Roman ruins, the same ruins that had prompted her discussion with Weizman about Eretz Yisrael, the biblical land of Israel. Jordan was convinced it was this idea that drove Brodsky. The question was whether Lotner believed in it strongly enough to be acting as Brodsky’s mole.
Ganani was leaning against the fender of a beat-up sedan when they pulled up. Haddid sat captive in the backseat.
Ganani pointed to the blood on Jordan’s hands. “What happened?”
While Taylor and Walker gave her the lowdown, Jordan walked down to the Mediterranean and rinsed her hands. Posner’s blood liquefied, swirling in the tide, making purple ripples in the blue water. When the last remnants ebbed away, she stood and wiped her hands dry on her pant legs.
The ruins stretched in front of her, a reminder of all the battles fought for this land, of all the blood spilled. To what end? This country had never known peace. She doubted it ever would. The differences and resentments among its people ran deep. Their lives became a commodity of war. Today, one agent had paid the ultimate price, while Posner hovered on the brink.
She had shot the perpetrator, a man manipulated into seeking revenge for the death of someone he didn’t know in order to stand for a cause. She thought of her father and wondered how she was any different. She had made this about Brodsky—about her questions about her father and his killer and her desire to see the person she believed murdered him burn in hell. But this was about more than that. This was about stopping a power-hungry man from derailing a chance at peace. To do that, they needed to figure out exactly what he had planned.
Jordan turned away from the water. When she reached the cars, Ganani pushed to her feet.
“We move to plan B,” Jordan said. “But first, what the hell happened back there? Why didn’t Haddid raise the alarm when the Palestinian came through the gate?”
Ganani looked away. “He didn’t see the man drive up.”
“Why not? He was watching the guard shack, wasn’t he?”
“He was watching.”
From the expression on Ganani’s face, Jordan knew something had gone wrong. “Tell us what happened.”
“The colonel kept calling, and I had to answer.” Ganani’s tone was defensive. “I told Haddid to be silent when I picked up. He was distracted for a moment.”
“Distracted?” Walker stepped forward. “Your moment cost one agent his life and may have cost Posner’s his.”
Jordan had heard enough. Stepping forward, she opened the back door of the sedan and motioned for Haddid to get out.
Ganani moved to block her. “That man is a prisoner.”
Jordan waved her off. “He saved our lives in Jabel Mukaber. We need him as part of this team.”
Everyone looked skeptical, even Haddid. He climbed out into the desert sun and eyed her warily.
“You told me that Najm Tibi was to supply information for a major terrorist attack,” she said.
“That’s right.”
“What else do you know?”
“I have told you everything I know. I have no knowledge of who is planning the attack. I don’t know where it will happen or how. I only know that it will set Israel and Palestine back for many years in the future.” He kept his eyes on the ground, his hands jammed into his pockets.
Jordan gestured at his body. “Your posture says you’re lying. What aren’t you telling us? Now is not the time to be stupid.”
He shifted and looked away, as though weighing his options. When he looked back, his eyes held a conviction she hadn’t seen there before. “In my things, the ones you took at the police station, there is an ID.”
The police guards had searched him and bagged his possessions. Jordan turned to Ganani. “Do you have the envelope with his effects in the car?”
The Shin Bet agent leaned inside the front seat and produced a manila envelope from the glove box. Jordan rummaged through the contents and pulled out a white plastic card.
“That belonged to Najm,” Haddid said. “I grabbed it when I left the apartment, along with a USB drive with the information he had to trade.”
Ganani stepped toward him. “What happened to the USB drive?”
Haddid stepped back until he bumped up against the fender. “I gave it to Zuabi in order to save myself and my family. I could do nothing else.”
Jordan figured they had all been in his situation sometime in the past.
“We all have to answer to someone,” she said, studying the card. Tibi’s picture adorned a corner on one side. The other side had “GG&B” inscribed in raised letters in the same color as the plastic. A thrill of excitement coursed through her. It was a key card, like the one Ester Cohen had used for access at GG&B. It was their ticket into the building.