The porter closed the door to the cab and slapped its roof. The car pulled off, and Nir walked into the lobby, slowing to take in all the beauty and accoutrements one would expect in a five-star hotel. Its large atrium rose many floors up into the air, and all around dark woods contrasted with the white marble. The walls themselves were covered with long windows tinted orange, brown, and yellow, which probably gave a much more stunning effect during the sunlight hours than they did this time of the evening.

“Sir, would you like a moist towel?” A young woman stood next to him holding a tray with three rolled-up cloths.

“Thank you,” he said, unrolling one, then using it to wipe his face, neck, and hands.

The woman held out a basket, and Nir dropped in his towel.

“Sir, would you like juice?” He spun the other direction, and there was another young woman holding a small silver tray on which stood four flutes of golden liquid.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a glass.

I could get used to this treatment, he thought as he made his way to the front desk.

“May I help you?” a young man behind the counter asked.

“Checking in. Thomas Martin.” Nir set the glass on the counter and reached for his passport.

“Welcome, Mr. Martin. We have your room all ready for you.”

Four minutes and a glass of juice later, Nir stepped into an elevator. Room 486 said his card folder. He punched the button with the 4 on it.

If I can just get a good night’s sleep after all this flying, maybe I’ll be ready to face tomorrow. He’d started yesterday morning at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. After leaving Israel, he’d been to Frankfurt, Essen, Berlin, Frankfurt again, Helsinki, and London. Now he just wanted a beer and a bed.

The elevator dinged, and he stepped out, noting his room was to the left. At the end of the hall, he held the keycard to the reader, heard a click, and turned the handle.

The door flew open, and a fist drove into his solar plexus. Nir doubled over, gasping for breath. Two sets of hands grabbed his arms and pulled him into the room, while another pair drove his head toward the floor. He plowed forehead first into the carpet. Before he could even fight back, he felt a sharp jab in his neck. Still sucking hard to get air, he lifted his eyes. He had only a second before a black hood was pulled over his head, but he saw at least three other men in the room besides the ones who’d assaulted him.

Directly in the center of his line of sight was one more item he wished he hadn’t seen. A large steamer trunk in the middle of the floor, its lid open.

That is going to hurt, he thought before all went black.

Chapter 53

CHAPTER 53