Free City of Secrets by Stewart O’Nan Page A

possible the Sabra wasn’t a Sabra at all.
    â€œI would especially like to thank Miss Eva for the use of her apartment. You’re very brave.”
    Miss Eva
. She beamed, a star accepting an award.
    â€œI want to thank Jossi for the use of his car. You’re very brave as well.”
    Brand nodded, thinking Asher shouldn’t have told him their names. Protocol worked both ways. And what about his sweater?
    â€œYou risked your lives to save mine. Don’t think I’ll forget. Long Live Eretz Israel.”
    â€œLong Live Eretz Israel,” they echoed.
    With that, he sat down and Victor stood up. They made an odd pair, the dark, clean-shaven bantamweight and the ruddy, ginger-bearded giant. How had they met? Brand wondered. Who else was in their cell?
    Victor flipped the chalkboard, revealing a diagram—a crude map with train tracks and two parallel roads marked with arrows. As in a geometry problem, the tracks crossed both roads at an angle. Between them, in the center of the tracks, sat a pirate’s X for treasure.
    â€œEvery Friday the British payroll arrives by the same train.”
    The plan was ridiculously simple. They were going to blow up the tracks and stick up the train. To Brand the idea seemed like something out of the Wild West, sure to end in a bloody shootout, but no one protested.
    Once the train passed the first crossing, they’d blow the tracks behind and ahead of it with mines. With the train trapped, two of them would use the crew as hostages while the others disarmed the guards and blew the safe. They’d use a stolen car, one they could ditch after they’d gotten away, then Jossi would drive them back to the city, the loot safe in the hidden compartment. The payroll was over thirty thousand pounds.
    â€œThat’s a lot of weapons,” Asher said, as if they needed an incentive.
    After the substation, Brand expected he’d be part of the assault team, along with Asher, Victor and the Sabra. The Peugeot could hold five. Maybe Fein? Eva and Yellin would handle communications.
    They had one week.
    â€œI know that’s not a lot of time,” Victor said, “but Gideon and I both think you’re ready.”
    â€œThank you,” Asher said, and as Brand held on to the assumed name, he understood that Gideon and Victor weren’t coming with them. They’d be going it alone.
    To avoid suspicion, after the meeting was done, they left in shifts. Asher stayed behind with Gideon and Victor to work out the necessary materials. Lipschitz had business in Mahane Yehuda, so he could walk. Fein said he could use a ride.
    In the car they were somber, as if right now they were heading out on the mission. They passed the Schneller Barracks and the fields of the orphanage. Brand glanced at the barns and the spindly tower rising in the distance. A moving train was a completelydifferent proposition. Hostages, and guards. Not to mention the safe.
    After a mile-long silence, Eva finally spoke. “So, what happened to your buddy Yellin?”
    â€œNothing,” Fein said. “He had a dentist appointment.”

5
    G ideon was Sephardic, a Moroccan whose missionary parents ran a yeshiva in Tangiers. Eva had known all along.
    â€œI couldn’t tell you. Believe me, I wanted to. Asher said it was for your own good. We have to be safe.”
    â€œYou already knew Victor.”
    â€œI never said I didn’t.”
    He questioned her like a deceived husband. How well did she know them? How long? She was evasive and outraged, the faithful wife, citing protocol. As he had that first night, he sensed it wasn’t the first time Gideon had visited her bed, or Asher. Why was he surprised she was a whore? He was used to Katya, whose past, like his own, was clear as water. He was just a dumb mechanic, he wasn’t meant to connive with spies.
    â€œWhat about the blonde?”
    â€œShe’s new. Honestly, I have no idea who she