Now they had Imri, and so far Nir was impressed. When they’d sat in Nir’s office, the young man told the story of his great-great-grandfather, Alexander Zaid, who was a hero in the early years of Zionism.

After the turn of the twentieth century, he and some others founded Bar Giora, a Jewish self-defense organization. Many of the early settlements found themselves constantly raided by Arabs, and these men were determined to stop them. Then in 1909, he helped found HaShomer, “the Watchmen,” the premier defense organization until the founding of the Haganah in 1920. Eighteen years after the formation of that benchmark military organization, Alexander Zaid was on patrol in the Jezreel Valley when he was ambushed by a group of Arabs and murdered by a Bedouin, who was himself later tried and executed.

Nir had already known the story and had even seen the statue of the man erected near Beit She’arim National Park. He’d just wanted to hear Imri tell it in order to get a bead on him. There was no doubt of the young man’s passion, and Nir respected his desire to follow in his ancestor’s footsteps as a watchman of Israel. The jury was still out, though, and Nir was hoping his initial impressions would prove to be right.

Between online blueprints of the condominium and the photos posted with the Airbnb advertisement, the two operatives knew where they were going. When they reached the master bedroom, they both drew their weapons. Nir’s IWI Jericho 941 was ready with one in the chamber. The weapon’s safety was engaged in between operations but never during. Very gently, Imri turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Nir stepped in. To his left stood a tall fern, and beyond that, a large wardrobe. Two steps away, directly in front of them, was a half-meter-tall, dark-wood platform upon which lay an undoubtedly comfortable mattress. Two forms were stretched out under an oversized thin comforter. Nir approached the one nearest him. A quick flick of his penlight showed her to be a pretty blond woman in her late thirties. While he knelt next to her, Imri walked behind him for a better angle from which to train his gun on the other person.

Nir holstered his weapon and tucked his light into his pocket. Then from an armband wrapped around his left upper bicep, he removed a syringe. He really wished the woman had been on the other side of the bed so he could make the injection with his right hand. But he’d practiced both ways, and covering her mouth with his right hand, he used his left to quickly insert the needle into her neck. The result was immediate. No struggle; she was just out. Still, he kept his hand over her mouth for a count of 40.