“He was going to testify,” Le Roux replied. “His wife and child were in the car,” McConnell said. “I didn't have them killed,” Le Roux said. The exchange was enough for McConnell to consider quitting. Many of his gold-shepherding duties in Hong Kong were now handled by a trio of Israelis led by Doron Shulman, who had pur- chased two houses that were used exclusively for stashing gold. Shulman, a dual Australian-Israeli citizen, was one of a number of Le Roux's employees who had served together in the Duvdevan, the elite division of the Israeli Defense Forces. (The Duvdevan— which means “cherry” in Hebrew—specializes in undercover work in Palestinian communities in the West Bank and Gaza. Most fa- mously, its agents have dressed as Arabs to infiltrate Palestinian militant groups and capture or kill high-value targets.) Le Roux seemed to enjoy the cachet of hiring ex-special forces soldiers, and Shulman and his young compatriots got to see the world on Le Roux's dime. McConnell, on the other hand, had a family in the Philippines. He didn't need the risks anymore. He could start his own security outfit, with more mainstream clients. But how to quit an organiza- tion where the act of quitting was cause for suspicion?

Halfway around the world in Israel, on the pharmaceutical side of Le Roux's business, Moran Oz had also been looking for a way out. Many of the Israelis that he and Alon Berkman had sent to work for Le Roux in Manila had since returned, desperate to get away from what they saw there. “They came back from the Philip- pines with fear in their eyes,” one former Tel Aviv employee said. Levi Kugel, the guitar-playing call center manager Le Roux had sent to deal with Ari Ben-Menashe, told Oz that he'd left the orga- nization in fear after Ben-Menashe had failed to deliver a diplo- matic passport for Le Roux. Kugel, afraid the boss might exact vengeance on him, moved to the United States, where he assumed he would be out of reach. Asaf Shoshana, the childhood friend of