Not long after that, the Israelis set her up with an international modeling agency and a flat in Milan. Every now and then, they would call on her to use what she labeled her keyboard artistry to hack her way into a place that needed hacking into. And while at times modeling gigs were arranged to give her an excuse for entering a certain country or for being at a certain event, this was the first time she’d been sent into a dangerous situation.

It gets the adrenaline going. But now that I think about it, if I have a choice, I’ll choose digitally breaking into places from the comfort of my flat in Milan or a nice hotel room. Anything like a freezing cold van in the middle of Tehran? No thanks.

As she sat there hoping for sleep, her mind went to Nir, as it often did. Their off-and-on romance was very much in one of the “on” stages. In fact, she’d been picking up signs that he might be getting ready to take their relationship to the next level—whatever that next level might be.

It was so good hearing his voice when he called through coms. Just knowing he was watching over my progress—

As if on cue, her phone rang. Maybe it was Nir again.

“This is Julia,” she answered, trying to calm the excitement in her voice.

“Julia, Matt. Just checking in again. Everything good?” His baritone was soft and soothing.

“It is. We’re making good time. I never knew Iran is such a beautiful place. These mountains are amazing.”

“I’ll probably have to take your word for it. Enjoy your drive. What’s your ETA to Chalus?”

Nicole checked her watch again. “We’re almost at Marzanabad, so I’m guessing it’s—”

A loud exclamation from Yusif interrupted her train of thought. She noticed his eyes in the rearview mirror and turned around. A white car was trailing close behind them, a bar of lights on its roof.

She’d pulled the phone away from her ear, but she could still hear Nir. “What is it? Julia, what’s going on?”

Every fear she’d had leading up to this operation—every dream that awakened her at night—came flooding back.

Lifting the phone back to her ear, she said, “Matt, NAJA is behind us.”

As though a switch had been flipped, the softness of Nir’s voice hardened into flint. “Can you see what branch of NAJA? Is it the Prevention Police? The Traffic Police? The Border Guard?”

“I don’t know. But it looks like maybe the Traffic Police.”