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“Oh!”

“Sam worked for the CIA up until three years ago. Right up until the nuclear bomb exploded in Texas.”

Clark read between the lines. “Was he there?”

The Senator looked around the carriage, delaying any answer as he pondered what he should tell Clark. He decided on the truth.

“Sam was there. Sam was the guy who could have saved the day. Sam was the guy that was told not to shoot the terrorist four hours before he detonated the bomb.”

Clark just stared at the Senator. The revelation that the government could have stopped the atrocity left her speechless.

“Sam had tracked the terrorists for months. He had many opportunities to kill them but every time, he was stopped by his bosses. They wanted to know where the target of the attack was. It was the one thing nobody could uncover.

“But I thought it was Washington.”

“That’s the story but Sam says not a chance. The terrorists knew the bomb would set off every alarm we’ve got. That bomb was not ever going to get near Washington. Sam told everybody that they had to be stopped before they got to America but they just ignored him.”

“Oh my God. So what did he do?”

“After he was stood down, an assassin tried to kill him and very nearly did. Sam’s not sure who hired him, it could have been the terrorists or any number of people. Andriev was a gun for hire. Anyway, after everything that had happened, Sam decided to quit. He sent a picture of himself looking dead to the assassin’s contact, burnt Andriev’s body and left his own ID next to it. The Mexicans didn’t waste time checking. They just declared the body as Sam Baker and as nobody local claimed him, they buried it in a pauper’s grave. Sam used Andriev’s tickets and travelled back to the US.”

“My God,” Clark could hardly believe what she was hearing, “So, what did he do then?” she prompted, keen to hear everything.

“We talked, he told me what had happened and that he would be going away. He’d contact me when he could. In the meantime, he gave me instructions on what to do if I needed him. The bomb going off hit him hard. He wandered for a while before he found North Haven and settled down. He was happy for the first time in a long time.”

“Until today?”

“Until today,” repeated Baker, “I’ve not seen Sam for over three years. Not since he saved the CNN journalists, just before the bombings in Israel…”

Clark turned to look at Baker as his voice dropped. She was expecting to see a tear in his eye but instead saw a look of horror.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking down the carriage towards where the Senator was staring blankly.

“I’ve just shivered all over, it’s like somebody walked over my grave,” he said quietly. “Something very bad has just happened.”

Rebecca tapped on the door gently. “Room Service!” she announced.

“Can you come back please, I’m not quite ready,” responded the guest.

Rebecca Cohen smiled. He certainly wasn’t ready for what he was about to receive and nor would he ever be.

She inserted the master key borrowed from the front desk and began to enter as if not having heard the guest. Footsteps came rushing towards the door as it opened.

“Sorry, I said I’m not ready.” Irritation replaced the guest’s jovial tone.

As the door opened fully, Rebecca was faced with the limping Izz al Qassam Brigade Commander she had seen over a year earlier. He, of course, did not recognize the woman in front of him as she was fully dressed. Although he did recognize that she wasn’t wearing the correct attire for a cleaner. She wore black trousers, a black top and more worryingly on a hot day, a pair of gloves.

As he stepped towards the door in an attempt to shut it, she lifted her arm and fired. The small darts flew towards the Palestinian, catching him in the chest. Over 50,000 volts pulsed through his body, sending him crashing to the floor. Rebecca closed the door behind her and placed the Taser X3 on the small table before manhandling the Palestinian towards the bed.

“Come on, wake up!” urged Rebecca.

The man looked at Rebecca as his eyes opened. He remembered going to open the door and then nothing. He looked down and saw he was naked. He tried to move but his arms and legs were secured to the four corners of the bed frame. He tried to speak but his mouth was stuffed full of what felt like a sock.

Rebecca smiled as the fear in his eyes grew and the realization of the situation sank in.

“My name is Rebecca Cohen,” announced Rebecca. Her voice almost sang as she savored the helplessness of the terrorist scum’s situation. “And you, my friend, are going to tell me everything you know.”

The man shook his head wildly in protest at the thought of telling her anything. The realization that it was a Jew bitch that he was lying naked in front of replaced fear with anger.

“Before you make up your mind, there are a few things you should be aware of.” Rebecca stared coldly into the young Palestinian’s eyes as she spoke. “Firstly, this is not going to end well for you. You are going to die and secondly, you are going to tell me everything you know before you do.”

Rebecca could see from the arrogance in the man’s eyes that he thought she was very mistaken. It was always the same, she thought. This foolish misconception that they couldn’t be broken. Everyone could be broken and much quicker than they ever imagined.

She almost pitied him, almost. She looked into his eyes and made him an offer while removing a small scalpel blade from a belt around her waist, a belt that held many other tools.

“If you talk now and I believe you are telling me the truth, you will meet your 72 virgins intact.”

The subtlety of her threat was not missed. The Palestinian’s fear returned instantly. The bravado dropped as his eyes fell towards his crotch. However, he shook his head. He was a proud and strong Palestinian.

Rebecca shook her head. It was such a shame, the naivety of these men. Of course, this would not be easy, being in a busy London hotel added to the complexity of the situation. Noise was going to be a problem. His screams would have to be contained.

Rebecca turned on the TV, selected a radio station and turned up the volume to almost the highest setting.

She moved the scalpel to within a few millimeters of the Palestinian’s manhood and watched his eyes for any hint that he may forego the pain and suffering. The defiance in his eyes suggested not. She shook her head and started cutting. The screams were almost entirely muffled by the boxer shorts in his mouth, anything else was nicely covered by the music.

It took just over ten minutes and the loss of one testicle for the man to tell Rebecca everything he had ever known. His name was Rafik Azzam and, as she had thought, he was a deputy to Mohammed Deif. She listened without emotion as he talked of the plan to deliver a blow to both Israel and America. Some details he knew, others he did not. He was in London to make a final payment to a third party. A ship had been fitted specially for the American bomb but he did not know where the ship was, its name or what the special fitting was. He didn’t know who he paid the money to, other than he sounded Russian. Finally and under the threat of losing his manhood entirely, he divulged the timescale for the attacks.

Happy that there was nothing left he could tell her, she fulfilled her first promise. She placed a small .22 caliber pistol against Rafik’s head and pulled the trigger. She turned off the TV, left the room, placed the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door and made a call to the Mossad office in London. There was a mess to clean up. Her next call was to Ben.

As she waited to be put through to Ben, she thought back over the last year. It had been the shortest year of her life. The more time she needed to track down the nukes, the less she seemed to have. After the revelation a year earlier, she had informed Ben of the Sheikh’s plan before announcing to him that she would go deep. Ben had not even had the chance to discuss it with her. She had ended the call and to all intents and purposes disappeared into an abyss. Ben had tried desperately to find her but to no avail. Six months earlier, he had all but written her off as dead.

As he ended the call with the Prime Minister, he picked up the waiting call.

“Ben Meir!”

“Uncle Ben,” she began.

“Rebecca, my dear!” he exclaimed, loud enough for the top floor of the Knesset to hear.

“My God, Ben you’re going to burst my ear drum,” she said smiling. She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Where are you? You must come in,” ordered Ben, gushing and overjoyed to hear her voice again.

Rebecca remained motionless. “I’m sorry Ben but time is not on our side. The nukes will be detonated on Yom Kippur, just two weeks from now!”

Ben sighed.

“I know,” he said slowly.

“You know,” repeated Rebecca. “What are you doing? Holding meetings? We have to evacuate major cities, high profile targets. We can’t let them win,” she argued.

“We can’t and we won’t, please, what do you know?” he asked again.

Rebecca remained silent. Just because she had gone deep, did not mean she was not aware of the intel Mossad had and didn’t have. She knew Mossad was not aware of the two week deadline.

Ben read the silence and filled in some detail.

“We’ve tracked all five weapons to their locations and have teams watching them. It's all in hand. We’re waiting for the right moment to take them down. The weapons need to be armed. At the moment, the weapons are safe. When they come to arm them, we will take them down. Everything is in order.”

“Thank God,” exclaimed an extremely relieved Rebecca. A year of worry evaporated in an instant.

“But how? How did you find them?” As the worry subsided, reasoning took the initiative.

“Let’s just say I have my sources,” replied the old master, tapping his nose. “I’ve not lost it yet, you know. Now tell me, where have you been?”

“All over, I’m in London right now but mainly in the camps.” Rebecca was referring to the many Palestinian refugee camps, the breeding ground for the terrorists. “I got a break and discovered one of the Al Qassam Brigade commanders was going to be in London. I tracked him down to a hotel in Paddington.”

Rebecca had been one of their most successful deep cover agents. Her skin tone and facial features blended perfectly with the Palestinians. It was amazing how a change of clothes, altered make-up and hair could transform Rebecca from Jew to Palestinian freedom fighter, to French heiress, to Italian beauty and in fact with her linguistic talents and natural Mediterranean beauty could pass off from being from anywhere she wished.

“I just finished interrogating him. I can’t believe you already knew but thank God Haifa, Tel Aviv, Jaffa and Rishon le Zion will be saved.”

Ben knew better than to ask what she had done with the Palestinian.

“Don’t worry, we have them under constant watch. As soon as they come to arm the weapons, we’ll pounce.”

“And the American city?”

Ben wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“The American city, which one is it?”

“What American city are you talking about? There are five nukes and we’ve accounted for all five.”

Rebecca counted out the cities on her hand. “Haifa, Tel Aviv, Jaffa and Rishon leZion, that’s four.”

“But there are two in Haifa?” panicked Ben, beginning to realize a massive error might have been made.

“There were but one was destined for America. They want to make amends for missing Washington last time. All I know is that it’s not Washington they’re targeting.”

Ben’s face turned white as he lifted his other phone. “Get me the Unit’s Commander.” The unit was the nickname for Sayeret Matkal, Israeli Special Forces, modeled on the British SAS and was the elite force within the Israeli Defense Forces.

After a brief wait, Daniel Rosenberg was on the line.

“When was the last time we had eyes on the weapons?” barked Ben with no preamble and catching Daniel off-guard.

“Hmm...”

“Don’t hmm me man, tell me when did we last physically see the weapons?”

“If you’re meaning the nuclear devices, well we’ve been watching them for the last few days and nobody has been near them.”

“Check the Haifa ones now and call me back. I want physical checks of their presence immediately. Call me back,” ordered Ben not waiting for Daniel to confirm the order.

Hearing the end of the other call, Rebecca continued., “But what if I’m wrong, you may tip them to the fact we’re watching them?”

“It’s a risk we have to take. The weapons are Israeli, stolen from us. If they go off anywhere but on our soil, all hell will break loose and we could end up losing our nuclear mandate.”

“Jesus, do you ever think of anything but Israel Ben?, What about the millions that could be affected by the blast? No, you just move to the next step, a weakened Israel.”

“That’s why I’m in this office and not in any other. I’m paid to protect Israel.”

Before the argument could really take hold, the other phone rang. Ben answered it immediately.