The children playing around the beds looked up, then continued playing. Silver, sitting on the edge of his own bed, remained in place. “Last night,” Safady said, “did I make it clear that there would be consequences if anyone tried to escape?” Silver nodded. His focus was on Safady’s hands. The Black Prince carried a grenade in his right hand, duct tape in his left. “You heard those shots?” Safady snarled. Silver closed his eyes and nodded again. Klein and Williams. He didn’t need to be told. His gut told him that they’d failed. “Two of your men were just executed. One was caught trying to help the other through a window.” Safady didn’t wait for a response. He pointed at Silver. Two of the Palestinian men stepped forward. One jabbed the barrel of his machine gun in Silver’s belly. All noise ended in the dorm. The children became still. “Stand,” Safady ordered Silver. “Remove your shirt.” “You can’t shoot me,” Silver said, fighting the urge to blubber.
