Three of the other team leaders offered to go in Nir’s place. Efrat, however, had just shaken his head and labeled him a fool. But that night, it was the old agent who had dished out the money for the round of Goldstars Nir owed for winning the competition. When Nir pointed out they weren’t supposed to celebrate until after he came back, Efrat said they better do it now just in case.

After collecting his carry-on, Nir exited the plane. Immediately, he was wowed. Less than ten years ago, Hamad International Airport had replaced the old Doha International, and everything he set his eyes on still looked new and cutting edge. On the flight over, in the in-flight magazine Oryx, Nir had read that just that month Skytrax had named HIA the number one airport in the world.

Let’s see if that extends to their immigration process. In all my travels, I have never seen one efficiently run.

Once again, his expectations were exceeded. In a country that sees far more international travel than domestic, the Qataris have immigration down to a science. Despite 500 passengers on his flight, he stood in line only ten minutes. The agent took his United Kingdom passport under the name Thomas Martin, ran it through the computer, stamped it, and passed it back all in the span of 45 seconds. Customs was just as easy with his carry-on.

When he exited the airport, the brutal heat hit him like a communal bread oven on a kibbutz. It forced the air out of his lungs. Thankfully, though, the sun was starting to go down. Maybe the city would become tolerable in the next couple of hours.

Spotting a line of cabs, he walked to the first one in line. In Arabic, he asked, “How much to take me to the Mandarin Oriental?”

“That’s very far. Eighty riyal.”

“I’ll give you twenty.”

The man looked shocked. “Do you even know what a riyal is? Please. I’ll do it for sixty, but no less.”

Nir shook his head. “I know exactly what a Qatari riyal is and what it’s worth. I’ll do it for 30.”

“Fifty. I can’t do it for less. I’ll lose money on my gas.”

“Sorry. Have a nice night.” Nir turned toward the second taxi in line.

The man stopped him. “Please. I have a family. Thirty-five, and we have a deal. I have a very nice car. Very cold air conditioning.”

Nir looked at the man, then said, “Okay, thirty-five, even though you and I both know you’re pulling five more than you should.”

The cab driver smiled and shrugged as he opened the rear door. Nir slid in bag first.

Dafna had told him to expect a 20-minute trip. That gave him some time to process through all that had happened and what was about to take place.