She and the rest of them in The Building - all now spending their precious non-coffee break moments going over his dossier looking for sexual perversion or drug abuse or instances of juvenile delinquency - they were the people who killed that boy, Doron told himself. It was their fault, with their long purple nails. Putting Doron on hold, forcing him to call Tel Aviv, making him listen while that computer-generated mouse music played ragtime, and Marina Raad sat there watching him with her iron eyes, her rain-soaked hair hanging down over Ibrahim's like a mermaid's. Doron had been afraid to return her regard. He was ineffectual, she could see that, and the situation was desperate, he could see that. He remembered the end-of-the-world sound of each rasping breath the boy could not quite take. (81)
This quote really stuck out to me because of the emotion behind, Doron is typically a very calm man. Yet in this passage we see the true passion he has for that night, his wall of emotion falls for a fleeting moment before rising up again. In context, this paragraph stands out even more, it is surrounded on both sides by the normal progression of the story, as if Doron's little outburst never occurred at all. For one moment, Doron lashes out and blames the bureaucrats surrounding him, allowing us to see the turmoil raging in his head. This passage allows true insight into an otherwise stoic and unemotional soldier.