Dima remained in the front seat. Lahav had his eyes on the many small monitors arrayed in front of him. Imri and Yaron both watched their own monitors, connected to tiny cameras mounted on the outside of the van, allowing them to see anyone coming toward them. Only Nir had nothing to do except wait and worry.

I guess that’s what leadership is. Your only part is to sit and hope no one else screws up.

“Term Lead, be advised that Father’s ETA is five minutes. That’s five minutes.”

“Got a dirty approaching from the south,” Yaron said. Nir quickly moved behind him.

Yaron continued, “Military-aged male. Empty hands. No signature.” Nir leaned in close, but he, too, didn’t see the outline of a weapon. Still, he removed his 9mm and stepped toward the van’s rear doors.

They were positioned in an alley between a cellulose factory and a transportation company. Kaveh Industrial City was a bustling manufacturing area, so it wasn’t surprising that a pedestrian would be moving past. But Nir wasn’t taking any chances.

Yaron spoke again. “Be advised he has partially unzipped his jacket and is reaching inside.”

Even though he knew what position it would be in, Nir still fingered his gun’s safety to make sure it was off.

“Dirty is coming alongside in 3…2…1.”

Silence filled the van as the man walked past. By the time he reached the camera by the rear door, his hand had come back out of his jacket holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Lahav laughed with relief. “Phew, that was close.”

“Shut up,” Doron hissed with venom in his voice. Three minutes passed before the team began to loosen up and Nir reholstered his weapon.

Lahav was back at his monitors, but Nir could see he was shaken by Doron’s rebuke. He walked to him and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You always have to let a situation breathe. The cigarettes could have been a signal. Remember, it’s never safe until it’s safe. Lesson learned. How’s it looking?”

“Everything looks good here.” His voice was a little shaky.

Once again, Liora sounded in the coms. “Term Lead, be advised that Father’s ETA is one minute. That’s one minute.”

“Okay, boys, let’s go hunting,” Nir said, then settled behind Lahav.

Dr. Fakhrizadeh had spent several days with his wife at a home they owned along the Caspian Sea. This was a regular excursion they took once or twice a month—always the same route there and always the same route back.

So sloppy, Nir thought. Nothing kills you faster than routine.

The seconds counted down slowly as they waited for the convoy of cars to register on the small camera mounted on the stranded car with the three wheels.

“Term Lead, Father should be approaching the scout.”