The ramsad chuckled. “Oh, what we could have done with you during the Cold War.”

“One minute out,” called Liora.

“Excuse me, Ha’mefaked.” Nicole waved her hand sideways.

The ramsad turned. “No, excuse me,” he said, stepping over to where Efraim Cohen was watching after realizing he’d been standing directly in her line of sight to the large monitor showing the satellite feed.

Nicole’s heart was racing. Lord, please let me get a glimpse of Nir. Let me see him being led out of the helicopter or even carried out. Just let me know he’s alive. Please protect him. Please reach him. Please encourage him to reach out to You.

As the helicopter touched down, Yossi said, “Look at Salim and the general’s body language. They don’t seem all that happy to see their friend. I doubt there’s a lot of love lost between them and him.”

“It’s true,” Nicole said. “When I was on the yacht, Salim and Mousavi were quite jovial and casual. Now they’re standing straight up and down. No movement toward the chopper at all.”

“Could be because of the IRGC soldiers present,” Cohen said. “They figure they need to keep it professional.”

The door to the helicopter opened, and Ali Kamal followed a steward out.

“He certainly looks happy to be there,” Liora said. “Waving his arms in the air like he just doesn’t care.”

“His friends still seem a lot less ecstatic,” Dafna added.

Nicole kept watching for Nir. Uniformed men followed Kamal off, eight in all. But that was it. Nobody else stepped off except the pilots. Four of the men removed what looked like their equipment trunk from the rear of the aircraft and carried it over to where Kamal had met the men.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Ping in ten seconds,” Liora said. She counted down, and a loud electronic chirp sounded throughout the room. A red dot covered most of the monitor.

“What is that?” demanded the ramsad as the dot slowly faded.

“That’s just the location indicator of Nir’s tracker. We’re too far away to know exactly where he is on the boat. We just know he’s most definitely on it.”

If he’s there, why haven’t we seen him? Why haven’t they taken him off the chopper?

On the screen, Nicole saw one of the men who’d carried the trunk from the helicopter raise its lid. Saad stepped back quickly, but Mousavi peered inside. Nicole couldn’t make out what was there.

“Oy vey,” said the ramsad softly. That’s when she recognized the contents. A body. She couldn’t make out the details, but she knew who it was. The dark line of the mended wound on the side of Nir’s head was all the proof she needed.