Chapter 13

Cyprus, south of Larnaca

A light blinked twice on the hill.

It was still before dawn when they were dropped off on an empty stretch of coast on the southeastern side of the Cypriot island. The chopper immediately sped out over the dark water and was gone before they had left the sand.

Matt sniffed the warm air – salt, dry grass, and the beach shack smells of seaweed and old driftwood.

A tall figure appeared. “Bluestar.”

“Lonewolf,” was Adira’s quiet reply. Confirmation received, the man turned and led them to a dark SUV waiting just back from the coastal dunes.

Their driver was introduced as Baruk. Matt noticed he spoke to Adira deferentially, and seemed a little in awe of her.

Beside the driver, Adira shared the front seat with Abrams, which meant he, the enormous Hartogg, Andy and Tania were crowded into the rear. Matt could barely breathe. Thankfully, they arrived at their destination within thirty minutes – a bungalow on the outskirts of the small town. The house looked like any normal bungalow, and surprised Matt with its Spartan look and low external security…until he realized that was probably exactly the image Mossad or whoever wanted projected.

They were met on the porch by a young woman, who held the door open as they entered. She ushered them through to a side room, where the carpet was rolled back to reveal an open trapdoor and dark stairs leading down.

Adira went in first, followed by Abrams and then the rest. The young woman, Marta, remained up top, shutting the trapdoor as Hartogg came in last.

Once inside, Matt saw that it was more than a basement – there was effectively another house underneath the one above. In one large room, several cots were readied for them, with clothing laid out on each. As they moved along a hallway, Matt saw a computer room with photographic equipment, an armory and even washing and cooking facilities.

Baruk conferred quietly with Adira, who nodded and then motioned to the shower room. “Fast showers for all. Once done, we can take photographs, and prepare the travel documentation.”

Hartogg started to strip off, and Andy wasn’t far behind him.

“A shower sounds perfect right about now.” The young geologist shucked off clothes that billowed yellow dust as it hit the ground at his feet. It was only then that Matt realized how decrepit they must all look…not to mention a few of them still had crusts of blood on their heads and faces from the explosion.

In half an hour they sat around eating tomato omelets Marta had made, and sipping coffee. Matt still felt tired, but human again. Like a production line, Marta and Baruk had taken their photos, cropped them and expertly inserted them into well-traveled American passports. They decided to stick with US identities, as Adira knew that, other than maybe Matt, none of them would be able to pull off any other nationality, and they hadn’t had time to absorb an entire foreign back-story should they be interrogated.