Then a voice in heavily accented English said, “Friend. Friend.”

What is this? Part of the torture? Get my hopes up, then crush them?

The man held out a water bottle and tilted it against Nir’s lips. Without thinking, he opened his dry, raw mouth. The cold liquid felt so good. But then he realized anything could be in there, and he spit it back out.

“Friend. Friend,” the man repeated, then turned the light toward himself. He was a young Asian man with a wide smile yet concern in his eyes. He was holding a cell phone. He put the bottle to his own mouth and drank, then smacked his lips and said, “Good.” Nir remembered Nicole saying she thought many of the stewards here were Filipino, because they were Asian yet their name tags had Spanish last names.

“Who are you?” Nir croaked.

The man just shushed him and put the bottle back to Nir’s lips. This time he drank greedily. As he did, the man pointed at him and said, “Jesus, friend. Jesus protect.”

A sound outside made the man jump. He doused the light and hushed Nir. Once more, it was completely black in the room. After a couple of minutes, Nir felt a hand press gently on his arm. The young man spoke, saying words in a language Nir didn’t recognize. His tone and cadence made it sound as if it were a blessing or even a prayer.

“Pagpalain ka nawa ni Yahweh at ingatan ka; palinawagan nawa ni Yahweh ang kaniyang mukha sa iyo, at mahabag sa iyo; ilingap nawa ni Yahweh ang kaniyang mukha sa iyo, at bigyan ka ng kapayapaan.”

The hand was removed, and a few moments later, Nir briefly saw light across the room as the door opened and closed.

Chapter 60

CHAPTER 60

90 MINUTES LATER

CARL, MOSSAD HEADQUARTERS, TEL AVIV, ISRAEL—19:45 / 7:45 P.M. IDT

The eight screens mounted high on the walls were all a murky green. Below each one was an identifier: K1, K2, K3, K4, S5, S6, S7, S8. The K stood for Kidon, and the team members included, in order, Yaron, Doron, Dima, and Imri. The S represented Shayetet 13, the batwings, the Israeli equivalent of the U.S. Navy SEALs. When it came to the water, they were the toughest of the tough, and Nicole was very glad they were part of the rescue team.

Below the eight smaller screens was a large, wide monitor. It showed a color view of Saad Salim’s yacht from a drone hovering high above. All looked calm and peaceful, a large circle of light in the blackness of the Arabian Sea. Nicole counted six guards patrolling the well-lit upper deck. The helicopter was still on the pad.

“Twenty meters,” said Liora.

“Shut down the alarm system,” Cohen said.