Free Code of Conduct by Brad Thor Page A

in a factory. When she misbehaved or displeased the slavers, she was beaten. Her enhanced appearance was due to the grace of the Israeli plastic surgeons responsible for her facial reconstruction. Neither parent asked about her breasts.
    She told them that she had been too ashamed to come home. She needed to heal from the trauma, emotionally and physically. During that time, she had met Bentzi. He ran a human rights organization focused on stopping human trafficking. She had been offered a job with the organization and intended to remain in Israel.
    Her father was beside himself. Her mother cried for the rest of the visit. Helena cried too. The lies were difficult to tell, but they were necessary and the more she repeated them, the less painful they became.
    When her parents returned home to their village, her training began in earnest.
    Helena learned fast and she learned well. When Ben Mordechai moved from Shin Bet to the Mossad, he took her with him. She was far too valuable an asset to ever turn over to someone else.
    But now, as he approached the white Ford Transit van here in Geneva, he was questioning her value.
    Before he could reach for the handle, the door was opened for him and he climbed inside.
    Two young Mossad agents sat monitoring a bank of electronics. Next to them was a chesty redhead in her late fifties.
    “You heard everything?” Mordechai asked as he removed the wireless transmitter and placed it on the counter.
    She looked at her two young agents and said, “Go get some coffee.”
    When the men had exited the van, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Mordechai. He shook his head.
    Lighting up, she took a deep drag and then exhaled the smoke toward a small vent in the roof. “I’d say we’ve got a serious problem.”
    Nava Itzik was an assistant director in the Mossad’s Special Operations Division or “Metsada” as it was known. Under their dark umbrella fell some of the Jewish State’s most dangerous assignments. In addition to paramilitary operations, sabotage, and psychological warfare, they werealso charged with carrying out assassinations. When Nava Itzik found something to be a “serious problem,” she usually brought some particularly nasty force to bear in order to get it out of Israel’s way. That was what she was paid to do. And as her deputy, Mordechai was paid to do whatever she told him to.
    “If I had seen this coming,” he said. “I never would have put her on this job.”
    Nava took another drag on her cigarette. “I saw it coming,” she replied as she blew another cloud toward the vent. “I know more about Pierre Damien than she does, and I’d still probably go to bed with him.”
    “But that was her assignment. She was supposed to sleep with him. What she wasn’t supposed to do was fall for him.”
    “I think she fell for you first.”
    Mordechai was taken aback. “Me?”
    “You rescued her. Took her away from that brothel. You gave her stability. Some hope.”
    “I didn’t give her any choice.”
    “She chose to trust you.”
    “What she chose was to not go to prison,” he corrected.
    “You’re emotionally unavailable, Bentzi. Any woman can see that. It makes you more attractive.”
    “Are you psychoanalyzing me or is this supposed to be some weird compliment?”
    “Neither,” Nava replied. “I’m just telling you the truth. No matter how well she shoots or fights, she’s deeply insecure. We both know that.”
    “Everyone’s insecure. If you don’t have doubts, there’s something wrong with you. She may be insecure, but she’s a good person.”
    “The hooker with the heart of gold. Except she isn’t really a hooker anymore. She’s an asset. Our asset, and whatever let’s-play-house, happily-ever-after fantasy she has created in her mind with Damien, it needs to come to an end. Right now. Israel can’t afford fantasies.”
    “You think that is what this is all about? She sees Damien as her way out?”
    “If you’re