Working for the Mossad was never as dangerous as retiring from it. Shahla is an Israeli asset concealed in her American job. An injury leads to a new life with a man who restores her body and soul. The forbidden union challenges the couple when Shahla's Persian Jewish culture clashes with his. The marriage is complicated when she refuses to discuss her past, and an unseen figure overshadows their marriage.
The family Passover answers many questions about this clandestine visitor, but the celebration turns deadly. When the Mossad and her trade craft fail, only faith remains.
Shah’s ears rang from the gunfire. She’d lost her earpiece, and she
was sitting on the floor trying to exchange the clip in her SIG Sauer,
but her left arm was useless. She’d dropped the empty with no problem;
that was a mere press of the release, but she was struggling to find
enough strength and leverage in her left hand to seat the new clip. Uzi
was saying something to her while he reloaded, but she couldn’t
concentrate on the clip and him. The fire had ceased, but it could have
been because those on the other side of the door were also reloading, so
she opted for the clip, and it finally seated when she tapped it on the
Racking it was a new problem, but she awkwardly pulled the slide anyway,
and it seemed to chamber a round. The pull was so feeble that she was
afraid she’d jammed it, and she frowned at the tighter mainspring,
wishing for her Glock. The man lying beside her twitched, and she
decided to test her work. She aimed the pistol at his head and squeezed
the trigger, and the recoil and spray told her that the magazine had
Uzi knelt on one knee and grabbed her by her right arm so she wouldn’t
shoot him reflexively. She looked up. “Boi!” he urged. “We have to
go now. I’m almost out of ammo. Yallah.”
She tried to scramble up, but she slipped repeatedly in the blood. Her
legs wouldn’t work no matter how hard she tried; she couldn’t brace
herself with the left arm, and she held the SIG in her right. Blood was
everywhere, and she wasn’t sure if it was mostly hers, Uzi’s, or the
dead guro’s. Uzi lifted her around the waist and tried to walk her out
of the bedroom’s inside entrance door, but she still couldn’t walk.
She was mostly dragging her feet. They both realized something was
“Gunshot or cut?” Uzi asked in her ear.
“Can’t tell. Maybe both.”
“You can’t walk?”
“I keep trying, but my legs won’t...”
He bent and picked her up like a sack of potatoes, slinging her over his
shoulder. He steadied her weight with one hand while he kept his weapon
at high cover for the quick walk through the house to the van, and the
hulking pilot converged with them on the front walkway. Samuel backed
toward the van while he covered their rear, an Uzi-tat makleah and
pistol, one in each hand, both at high cover. Satisfied that no one was
lurking in the shadows, the big man bladed his body so that he
wouldn’t turn his back and stepped into the van; he set the submachine
gun on the floorboard and held out his arms; Uzi leaned over and
unloaded Shah into them. Samuel pulled her into the van, and Uzi once
again scanned the house and grounds before he jumped inside and slid the
door shut. Simcha drove off at a moderate speed.
“What the hell happened in there?” asked Samuel, supporting Shah
around her abdomen while he dragged her backward and lowered himself to
a seated position against the opposite side panel. He holstered his
Glock and situated her into the V of his legs facing away from him. He
peered down at her with a scowl through his balaclava. “It sounded
like the shootout at the OK Corral.”
“It was,” said Uzi grimly, kneeling in front of Samuel to examine
Shah’s wounds. “The OK Corral with Edward Scissorhands thrown in.
Let’s hope the locals don’t shut down the airfield before we get
there. This island’s too small for us to hide.”
Excerpted from "The Eagle and the Child: The Child" by S. Khubiar. Copyright © 2016 by S. Khubiar. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.