He starts to walk slowly towards the main entrance. The university feels like a sanctuary. The green tranquillity inside those walls, away from Beirut’s frenzied energy, replaces the chaos of the Middle East with an atmosphere of learning and sober conversations. He wants so badly to be inside there again, to catch his breath; he doesn’t know if he can stand to just be swept along. He can’t go to the embassy – Vargander is involved in this somehow. He knows he’s completely alone there. But maybe he could talk to Rafi, the teacher he interviewed and got a coffee with sometimes? Maybe he has a contact after all? A wasta as it’s called here, a connection to some influential person who can help him?

Everyone has a wasta in Beirut, Rafi told him, and Jacob needs help; he can’t handle this on his own. In fact he should probably have reached out for help a long time ago, before he ended up in this insane situation. But he knows it’s too late now, and he sinks against the wall with his head in his hands. There is no one, no matter how influential, who can help him with what he’s landed in.

He stands up again, hesitantly heading towards the main entrance, without even knowing exactly why. He’s almost reached the security guards at the entrance when he stops mid-step.

He doesn’t exactly know what it is about the black SUV across the street from the entrance – Beirut is full of black SUVs – but there’s something about how carefully it’s been parked with a proper distance in front and behind it, while every other car is squeezed in bumper to bumper. And there’s something about the European-looking man on the street ten feet away from him, in jeans and a windbreaker. Something about how still he is while everyone else around him is on the move.

It has to be one of Myriam’s men, there’s no other explanation. Jacob is fifty metres from the man. No way to hide from him, the sidewalks are full of people, but not enough for him to disappear into the crowd. The man’s eyes pan over the entrance to the university, then out over the dense, sluggish traffic and the sidewalk, on their way to where Jacob stands. It’s only a matter of time before he sees him. The sound of the traffic blurs together into a roar in Jacob’s ears.

The man lights a cigarette and turns his head in the opposite direction from Jacob, then he pauses and quickly looks back. Their eyes meet, and Jacob’s heart stops. The man looks surprised, as if he never thought he’d be the one to find who they’re looking for.