That assurance was all well and good for when that time came. But at this particular moment, Nicole was in Iran being roughed up by a bunch of dirties—and there was nothing he could do about it.

When he entered the next room, his Kidon team was still gearing up. They all turned when he walked in. Tzadik was a strong leader, but these were Nir’s men. All they need is a helicopter, and they’ll raid the Ayatollah’s house if they need to.

He looked at each of them, letting them see the gravity of the situation in his stare. “Stand down,” he said, then walked out.

Cries of protest erupted behind him. He understood their frustration and appreciated their desire to save Nicole, but it wasn’t time yet, and he didn’t have the motivation to answer any of their questions.

“Yaron, fix it,” he called back. Immediately, his second began barking out orders for the men to unpack their gear, recheck it, and then pack it again.

The coffeepot was now half full, so Nir poured himself a cup and dumped in a couple teaspoons of sugar for energy. He found a chair within eavesdropping distance of Tzadik and sat down, then took a sip of the sweet coffee, set the cup on the table, and promptly forgot all about it.

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

POLICE STATION, MARZANABAD, IRAN—08:05 / 8:05 A.M. IRST

Nicole woke. She shifted her body slightly, causing a metallic clatter. The first thing she noticed was the cold—bitter, permeating, reaching through flesh to touch her bones. Her shivering began immediately and increased in intensity until a hard exhalation involuntarily escaped her mouth in a thick cloud of condensation.

Taking a quick inventory, she realized her coat was gone, her boots were gone, and her socks were gone. Thankfully, they’d left her wearing her jeans and sweater. Looking at her hands, she saw that all her jewelry had been removed, including the ring that had put a little dent in Officer Kazemi’s chin. Now she was sporting two shiny silver bracelets, each attached to a chain connected to the arms of the chair on which she sat. A quick movement of her bare feet let her know her body had four points of connection to her cold, metal perch.

Her head felt like someone with a wrench was torquing an invisible metal band around it. She probed the inside of her mouth with her tongue, and the raw swelling let her know she would likely be chewing her food on the right side for the foreseeable future.

Your first in-country op in enemy territory, and what do you do? You assault a police officer.