It’s a Race Against Time: Deceive, or Face Destruction

Posted on Sep 08, 2022 Topic : Fiction
Posted by : Amir Tsarfati, Steve Yohn

CHALUS ROAD/ROUTE 59, IRAN—FEBRUARY 1, 2018—07:25 / 7:25 A.M. IRST

Nicole heard the window roll down part way and inwardly groaned.

Although her eyes were closed and her head was back, she knew exactly what was happening in the front seat. Sure enough, she heard the click-click-click of the driver’s lighter—always three clicks. Then the smoke from his cigarette wafted into the back seat. The partially opened window did more to clear the man’s conscience than it did to clear the air.

It’s your own fault, she mentally chastised herself. He asked if you minded the first time. This is what you get for being too polite. Opening her eyes, she glanced at her watch. They were two hours outside of Tehran. Picturing the map she’d memorized, she determined they should be coming up on Marzanabad soon. From there it would be another half hour to Chalus, where she’d become just another visitor to the coastal town, in-country for a few-days photo shoot.

The adrenaline had begun to dissipate about an hour after the Tehran skyline disappeared from the back window. Shurabad, the suburb where the warehouse was located, was in the southern part of the capital.

This meant a long drive through the heart of Tehran before she and her driver finally exited the city limits to the north and began their ascent into the mountains. The man, who’d introduced himself as Yusif, had been kind enough to leave a wool blanket in the back, and she’d made use of it the entire trip.

She still couldn’t believe they’d pulled off that heist. When word had reached the van that all was done and they needed to wrap up, it was all she could do not to cry out in joy. Quickly and carefully, she’d detached the digital video playback machine from the bank of equipment, then unplugged it from the power knowing it had enough battery to provide six hours of continuous use.

The tech next to her had asked, “Is it ready to go?”

“It is.” She gave the device to him, and he carried it to the van’s side door and passed it to the fifth member of the team. In the dim light from the van, Nicole watched as the man walked it to the building, then set it on the ground, making sure the wires were still secure. Then he covered it with a ratty tarp and a torn bag of garbage. No need to worry about the rigged alarm. It would continue to show itself armed until someone discovered the tampering.

It was quiet as they drove off, the communications guy at the wheel. Despite the victory they’d just achieved, Nicole had found it unsettling to still be in the heart of the beast. After a ten-minute journey, they pulled into the parking lot of an empty office building. Three cars waited. As soon as she stepped out, Yusif waved to her and then hustled her to his car. She slipped into the back seat, and off they went.

Now, two hours later, Nicole closed her eyes again. It would be wonderful if she could sleep, but her nerves would never allow her to completely shut down. Once she reached Chalus, she could take a nap in her hotel room before her afternoon photo shoot. As much as she would like to bail out on the shoot, it was important to maintain her cover as a model. This gig got her into Iran, and if she suddenly disappeared after this major act of espionage, someone might get suspicious.

Well, maybe not this first time, but if it ever became a habit… Smart. people out there could add two and two together and get Mossad.

For perhaps the thousandth time, she marveled over how she had ended up working for the Mossad. Yet the facts never changed. She’d been 20, her only modeling experience local to Cape Town. Tall, olive-skinned, and with dark curly hair, full lips, and ice-blue eyes, she’d determined to use her looks to get out of the hometown that held so many bad childhood memories.

That was when the Israeli intelligence agency came knocking on her door. They weren’t there because they were eager for her to do a photo spread for them. Her other pastime had brought them all the way down to South Africa. Nicole smiled as she remembered how terrified she was when they confronted her about hacking into the legendarily un-hackable computers of the Mossad. She’d been sure they were about to bury her at sea.

But then they surprised her by presenting her with an offer she couldn’t refuse. Come use your incredible computer skills to work for Israeli intelligence… or else. It was hard to say no to a proposition like that.

Not long after that, the Israelis set her up with an international modeling agency and a flat in Milan.

Every now and then, they would call on her to use what she labeled her keyboard artistry to hack her way into a place that needed hacking into. And while at times modeling gigs were arranged to give her an excuse for entering a certain country or for being at a certain event, this was the first time she’d been sent into a dangerous situation.

It certainly gets the adrenaline going. But now that I think about it, if I have a choice, I’ll choose digitally breaking into places from the comfort of my flat in Milan or a nice hotel room. Anything like a freezing cold van in the middle of Tehran? No thanks.

As she sat there hoping for sleep, her mind went to Nir, as it often did. Their off-and-on romance was very much in one of the “on” stages. In fact, she’d been picking up signs that he might be getting ready to take their relationship to the next level—whatever that next level might

be.

It was so good hearing his voice when he called through coms. Just knowing he was watching over my progress— As if on cue, her phone rang. Maybe it was Nir again. “This is Julia,” she answered, trying to calm the excitement in her voice—and still using her legend name as instructed. This is who she was until she reached Chalus and became Nicole again. “Julia, Matt. Just checking in again. Everything good?” His baritone was soft and soothing. “It is. We’re making good time. I never knew Iran is such a beautiful place. These mountains are amazing.”

“I’ll probably have to take your word for it. Enjoy your drive. What’s your ETA to Chalus?” Nicole checked her watch again. “We’re almost at Marzanabad, so

I’m guessing it’s—” A loud exclamation from Yusif interrupted her train of thought. She noticed his eyes in the rearview mirror and turned around. A white car was trailing close behind them, a bar of lights on its roof. She’d pulled the phone away from her ear, but she could still hear Nir. “What is it? Julia, what’s going on?”

Every fear she’d had leading up to this operation—every dream that awakened her at night—came flooding back. Lifting the phone back to her ear, she said, “Matt, NAJA is behind us.” As though a switch had been flipped, the softness of Nir’s voice hardened into flint. “Can you see what branch of NAJA? Is it the Prevention Police? The Traffic Police? The Border Guard?”

“I don’t know. But it looks like maybe the Traffic Police.” Nicole could hear Nir shouting orders, but his hand must have been covering the mouthpiece because she couldn’t make out the muffled words.

“Okay, I was just assured by the agency who hired your driver that he’s very good at what he does. He wouldn’t have been breaking any traffic laws. It’s likely that they’ll tail you for a while, but then—” “Matt. They’ve turned on the lights. We’re pulling over.”