Tel Aviv's pulsing heart beats a different rhythm at night, and Ana Lucceti knows every throbbing vein. Tonight, she's hunting, her prey a faceless, nameless creature of the night. She finds him in a dimly lit alley, his silhouette etched against the brick wall. He's tall, broad, and oozes danger. She sidles up to him, her perfume a cloud of seduction. "You lost, darling?" she purrs, her hand tracing the edge of her low-cut top. He turns, his eyes reflecting the distant city lights, and grins wolfishly. "I was," he says, "but now I've found what I've been looking for."