The two men who’d been chopping vegetables burst out of the building, each with a rifle at the ready. Nir let go of the bags and dove to the ground. As he rolled, he reached for his pistol. Then letting his momentum carry him up to his knees, he fired two rounds into each man. They dropped.

Nir holstered his pistol and snatched up the two bags. The shouts were increasing as the militia camp woke up. Gunfire started popping off.

“Wahed, you have one minute!”

The two men cleared the perimeter of the camp and ran with all their might into the barren wilderness. Nir had no idea where the others in his team were, but he knew they would be clear. They were trained to follow orders, and he was confident that’s what they had done.

Nir heard the missiles, but he never heard the jets. Two streaks passed directly over their heads. The blast from the impact lifted both him and Imri up into the air. They flew, landing hard.

As he lay on the ground, trying to recover his breath, Doron ran up to him. “Are you okay?”

“Khamsa. Where’s Khamsa?”

“I’m good,” Imri said. “Ankle hurts like a mother, though.”

“Sitta, your guys?”

“Present and accounted for,” reported the head of the Sayeret team.

“Wahed, your head is bleeding like a sieve. You sure you’re okay?” Doron asked again, reaching into his tactical vest and pulling out a roll of gauze. He began to quickly circle it around Nir’s head.

Nir tried waving him off. “I’m good. We need to get moving. You can look at my head after we get some distance behind us.”

“But boss—”

“Listen, our friends in the sky just took care of any evidence of our being here. We don’t want someone finding us here now. Besides, we’ve got seven kilometers to hoof to get to the LZ for pickup.”

Doron tied off the improvised bandage, then helped Nir to his feet.

He took a step and stumbled a bit.

“You don’t look so good,” Dima said.

“I’m fine. Make sure that one can walk,” he said, pointing to Imri, who was limping unsteadily. “Carry him if you have to.”

“You try carrying me, I’ll shoot you,” Imri said, stepping away from the Russian.

The Sayeret guys picked up the bags, and the team began their long trek to where a helicopter would pick them up and fly them out of Syria.

Chapter 48

CHAPTER 48

AROMA ESPRESSO BAR, TEL AVIV, ISRAEL—16:45 / 4:45 P.M. IDT

How do you drink that abomination?” Nir asked, nodding to the iced coffee Nicole was carrying.

She placed a ceramic mug in front of him. “It’s 34 Celsius out. How do you drink hot coffee on a day like this?”

“I like how you informed me you’re using Celsius,” he said with a laugh.