14
As Talia sped from Mossad Headquarters, adrenaline spiked into her system again. She glanced at the small metal canister in her hand, then tucked it into her purse. She took the on-ramp to the Glilot Ma’arav Interchange, one of Tel Aviv’s major highway arteries. From there she headed east toward Petah Tikva, a city in the Central District, toward her apartment.
Something doesn’t add up, she thought, then began talking aloud to herself. “I mean, seriously, how did that guy get in there, all the way down to the sub-basement level?” As she changed lanes, she noticed a woman in the lane next to her staring. “Yes, I’m talking to myself. That okay with you?” she blurted and sped up. “That scar on his face. That had to have been the same man who killed grandpa.” Talia began piecing the event
