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family business, or that I don’t have foresight of my own and a plan to fulfill my goals.” He smiled the same smile he used to captivate everyone around him. “That is my plan and I have been working on it for a while. For a very long time.”

“And you are prepared to risk everything for this absurd idea of yours to ruin their satellite?”

“I am not sure I can touch their satellite at all, but if I have the chance of getting a new bargaining chip in the shape of an Israeli highly qualified scientist, instead of a boy who is replaceable…well, there is no one happier than me.”

“What do you mean ‘chip?”

“If an Israeli scientist dealing in satellites is kidnapped, what will their first assumption be? That there is about to be an attack on something to do with his work, right?”

“That is definitely an option. So, you expect that the forces will be redirected in that direction?”

“If the forces are directed there, or just the suggestion of such, their network will start sizzling. I love collecting data from overflowing networks. Just as I love to confuse the enemy”

Laura Ashton,

Operations room, November 15, 2015, 3:45 a.m.

When I was part of the American fencing team, before a big competition I would go off by myself for a moment of solitude. I would close my eyes, and, as usual, he would come into my thoughts. In the beginning I imagined stopping him from entering my room. The force of my gaze, the force of my hand, overpowered him. In my imagination, I never had to ask him to stop. I never begged. Never cried. The thought of me being capable of stopping him would fill me with adrenaline and internal strength. Afterwards, I would take a deep breath and let the air out slowly, controlled, as if to cleanse myself of all the toxic, disturbing thoughts, of all the out of place feelings.

I felt the need to do it now that I’d received the okay from the helicopter, now that the car we had been looking for had been sighted. I asked to be excused from the people awaiting my instructions and went into the bathroom. I stood alone in front of the mirror, but I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes. I stood there, and, like I’d done the first time, I saw the new Laura, the woman who was as strong as my harassing uncle. Strong enough to want to live and to get revenge. But was I also strong enough to lead all these people who were waiting for me in the operations room? Was I strong enough to make the right decisions, even under all the pressure that was being exerted upon me?

Both the circumstances and the pressure from the Israeli side obligated us to discern how we could stop the professor from falling into the wrong hands. At the same time, we had to keep our promise of saving his son. Guy had suggested, and had been accepted unanimously, that he go instead of his brother. They looked alike enough that whomever compared their ID photos would think they were the same person. So, somewhere in the air a helicopter was flying through bad weather conditions not conducive for landing on the ground, and at the same time a motorcycle flew across the ground on wet roads, through strong winds. All the necessary risks had been taken to locate the car belonging to Professor Niava, to divert his route, to prevent him from being successful in his plan to deal with the kidnappers on his own and allow Guy to take his place.

I had agreed to this plan because of its simplicity. Simple plans were the prerequisite for successful plans. I’d agreed because this whole affair already had very blurred boundaries between what was allowed and what was forbidden, between good and bad. And I’d agreed because at this stage I was prepared to try anything. If this nightmare had suddenly begun to put on some fat, it only meant we could start cutting into it. Without it, we only had loose threads which lead nowhere.

I walked out of the bathroom and into the conference room, where they were waiting. Some of the smartest people I have met, all trying to think of ideas.

“Is the helicopter still above the car?” I checked again. “Has the heat sensor picked up on another person in the car with him? He hasn’t picked anyone up on the way, right?”

“He is alone in the car according to the reports,” Linda replied patiently.

“Every moment he gets further and further away,” I reminded them. “Have they hacked his phone yet? Checked the GPS of the car?”

“Where is he going anyway?” Linda asked. On previous missions I’d noticed that Linda had a talent for looking at the situation from different angles and I needed that while brainstorming.

“We still don’t know,” Bobby answered her. I heard the disappointment in his voice.

“Just remember that you can’t use his cell phone to convey messages,” I reminded them. “It is possible he is being followed, so we should try to hack his phone in a secure way, to scan it.” I thought it was important that they keep that in mind while they plan.

I looked at each and every one of them. For a minute I thought we were talking about a competition, a challenge between kids who’d forgotten momentarily that we were trying to save the lives of hundreds of people and not just an abstract figure. To save many civilians, who were about to take off on planes that could blow up at any minute. This was not about just saving Professor Niava, nor about his son. It could be any of these people sitting opposite me, deciding to fly to some destination. I cleared my throat and added, “First of all, you need to check if the car has a surveillance device on it.”

And Donald added, “What about disrupting the GPS,

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