Nir had been communicating to Nicole through a headset, but once she’d said the lights on the police car were flashing, his conversation was switched to the speakers in the safe house’s control room. He closed his eyes as he once again leaned forward on his fists—only this time the knuckles on his balled-up hands were white as he listened.

“I’m sorry, sir. But as I was telling the other officer, I don’t understand your language.”

“She’s doing well,” Isayev said calmly, a slight tremor of his cigarette the only sign of nerves.

“Why are you in Iran?” the translator repeated.

“I’m sorry…Officer Kazemi, but I can’t—”

It took a moment for Nir to recognize the sound he’d just heard.

Furious—any trace of an Italian accent gone—he yelled, “He hit her! Nicole! Nicole! Can you hear me? Nicole, are you okay?”

Turning to Tzadik, he repeated, “He hit her!”

“I know! Shut up so I can talk.” Then turning to a tech, the agent in charge said, “His name is Officer Kazemi. Find out who he is, where he’s stationed, what division he’s in, who his superiors are—everything.”

Nir paced as he shouted, “Nicole! Nicole, can you hear me?”

Another slap, this one much louder, sounded throughout the room, immediately followed by a female’s cry of pain. Nir slammed his fists on the table in front of him, causing a coffee cup to go momentarily airborne.

Rage filled him as he gripped the table’s edges. The woman he believed he was in love with was being beaten 400 kilometers away, and all he could do was helplessly stand here and listen to it happening.

“Nicole! Say something!”

When she spoke next, he almost didn’t recognize her voice because there was so much venom in it. “And that was with my left hand, you goat-loving camel herder.”

Isayev cried, “Ha! Yes!”

But then the sounds of a struggle began, and a hush filled the room. Nir had always known a fury lived deep down inside Nicole, but this was the first time he’d heard it vented. It was obvious she was being dragged out of the car and was putting up a fight—physically and verbally.

A thud sounded, and Nir was certain they were pushing her up against the side of the car. He threw his headset to the floor and strode toward the room that held his Kidon team. Yaron was standing in the doorway listening, and the other guys were gathered behind him. The same intense determination Nir was certain showed in his eyes showed in theirs as well.

“Prepare your kits,” he called.

“Tavor, stop!”

Nir turned to see Tzadik marching toward him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going—”