Hatchet

by Israel Levy

  As the lights came back on everyone in the room sat erect with stern expressions on their faces.

  “As of tomorrow you are to inform your places of employment that you will be working only half days. We won’t be able to give you backing on this. Starting tomorrow, you are to report to ‘Yodfat’ base near Sirkin at 14:00, every day. See you all tomorrow. Naomi, please stay behind for a few more minutes with Jacob.”

  His last few words hung in the air as he shut the door behind him. Without a single word everyone shook hands and left the building separately as they had been instructed, leaving Naomi with Jacob.

  “Naomi, please repeat your conversation with the accountant, in detail.” He could not miss the surprised expression on her face.

  “It’s alright. I just want to get another recording and cross reference it with the first one. You might mention new details you perhaps forgot when speaking in front of everyone.”

  Jacob opened a large silver, metal case which contained a built in sound system. He took out two microphones – one, external, which he placed in front of her, and the second, a headset, which he placed on her head.

  “Alright, let’s start from where you sat across from him.”

  Within half an hour he had again recorded every detail of her conversation with the bald accountant (“I’ve never seen anyone with the kind of memory this girl has. She’s repeating the last recording almost word for word”).

  “… and then he grabbed the radios and left,” she concluded her report.

  “Well done, Naomi. It looks like, and this is before a more in depth inspection at the lab, that you succeeded in memorizing what he told you almost word for word. Amazing.”

  She left, nodding to Leah sitting behind her desk, catching an almost imperceptible nod in return, smiling as she made her way out to the street.

  Yael, ask Leibowitz if I can come see him for a few minutes.”

  “Yes, he’s free. You can go in.”

  She knocked on Leibowitz’s closed door.

  “Come in, Naomi, and please shut the door behind you.”

  She entered the room and Leibowitz got up from his seat to welcome her with a handshake, grinning from ear to ear.

  “I knew I was right about you! I’m so pleased” (OK, so he’s been brought up to speed about everything”).

  “Thank you, thank you, I must admit this is exciting but there’s something delicate I have to ask…”

  “It’s okay, Naomi. You have my permission to work part time.” She smiled at his quick response to her unanswered question.

  The members of her office team were surprised at how easily Leibowitz agreed to let their leader switch to half days.

  “I have to support my sister and mother, they’re really struggling. Once she makes a full recovery I’ll go back to working full time, and then some.”

  Rami tried to express his resentment at having the entire workload on his shoulders, but one look from Leibowitz made it clear that the matter was closed. Naomi called Rami to her office and started passing on everything about the case to him.

  “You’ll be fine, Rami. I trust you, and I’ll be here too,” she tried to reassure him, but Rami looked positively distressed at the sudden change.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked Shuli, her face on the white pillow, now looking better after the removal of the tiny metal shards that had dotted her face. Even with no makeup she looked full of life.

  “Mom should be here soon. She was watching the kids and the babysitter just arrived to take over. She’s been asking about you. What’s going on, Naomi? What’s up with you? I tried to reach you but your phone was off.”

  “I’m just working really hard with this case. There’s a lot of pressure. Promise me, when we both feel better and all this is behind us we will go back to the gym together.”

  Naomi told Shuli about leading the team on the big case and smiled at the sight of her sister’s proud grin (“If only she knew…”). Her mother started crying as soon as she entered the room.

  “Oh, good, you found some time for your sister, never mind me.”

  “And hello to you too, Mom,” hugging and kissing. “Alright, Mom, alright. Everything’s fine, no need to cry all the time.”

  Her mother reached inside a plastic bag and took out candies and chocolates. “I also brought you the gefilte fish you love.”

  “Mom, stop. We can’t turn this place into a picnic.”

  Naomi leaned back in her chair, relishing the comfort of the family situation. She couldn’t remember the last time she enjoyed her mother’s nagging so much. She got up and gave her a hug.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “Oy vey, something’s happened.”

  Both sisters burst into peals of laughter, Shuli grimacing, as laughing was still painful.

  “Stop, it hurts.”

  That day, Naomi stayed at the hospital until 8 p.m. Night had fallen by the time she returned to the parking lot. She got to her car and without intention drove straight to the sea. She stood, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness, an easy breeze stroking her face, and smelled the salty odor which accompanied the sound of the waves. The city lights twinkled in the distance, dotting the skyline with the silhouettes of office buildings, the tallest of the Azrieli towers breaking through the sky with its red warning lights on the rooftop.

  Far away in the sea blinked the lights of fishing boats, out to catch tomorrow’s gourmet dinners.

  She sat on the hood of her car, her legs crossed, the pleasant warmth of the engine underneath her, allowing the wind to clear her mind of all stress. (I’m most at home right here). She checked the voice mail on her phone, but it was empty. She checked her email and saw three new messages, one from Moshe.

  “- Hello, Naomi. I must admit I never thought I’d miss you this much. I miss hearing your voice and seeing you. You make me feel like a teenager again. I hope to see you soon.”

  At home she jumped in the shower. Not hungry, she just slouched on the sofa and turned on the TV (“I’ll just catch a few minutes of some reality show. If they only knew how much more exciting reality can be…”).

  She was woken by the voices of two morning show hosts. “You need two eggs and…” she turned off the TV, stretching her limbs after the night’s stiff sleep on the sofa.

  “Yael, I would kill for a coffee. And can you please ask Rami to come in here?”

  Discussions, discussions and more discussions. Just before one in the afternoon, she started to get excited and ten minutes later left the office and drove toward the orchards near Kfar Sirkin, to the ‘Yodfat’ base, which she knew from her military service. She parked her car at the marked visitors’ section ten minutes before the prescribed meeting time, and stood outside the gate, waiting.

  Within minutes she was joined by the other team members who smiled to each other and nodded. They each carried equipment bags, some even brought small suitcases. At exactly two p.m. an army minibus emerged from the camp. The driver said a few words to the guard at the gate and they climbed aboard and were taken inside the base.

  The winding road took them through the camp which, like most IDF bases she knew, was comprised of one story buildings with asbestos roofs, interspersed with tall, wide eucalyptus trees. There were male and female soldiers walking here and there and a platoon in sportswear came running across their path.

  On the basketball court a group of soldiers was practicing something that looked to her like Krav Maga. The stones lining the paths were painted white and Israeli flags waved at each of the little courtyards along their route. They passed through three checkpoints, the gates opening to let them through without a word.

  The minibus stopped outside an ordinary looking military building, three stories tall and painted grey. Behind it she noticed a landing strip and two helicopters (“Those are Black Hawks”). She w
as pleased with herself for identifying the model.

  They climbed out of the minibus and were met by a young, burly man in shorts and a brown shirt, his hands on his waist and a gun on his hip.

  “Hi, everyone. Welcome. I’m Shahaf, and I’ll be your head instructor. We have a lot to do today so let’s move into the briefing room.”

  All the team members smiled at young Shahaf’s serious attitude, feeling he was forgetting they weren’t in the army anymore and were probably all officers of various ranks.

  They stepped inside the briefing room and saw two female instructors and one male, dressed identically and all wearing the same stern expressions.

  “Heads up, (“Come on, enough with that military pose already”) some general rules for starters,” said Shahaf. “We’re in one of the IDF’s top secret bases. Therefore, no one is allowed to move anywhere inside the camp without specific authorization. We don’t know, don’t need to know and don’t want to know what organization you belong to. We were given a very clear mission, and that is to make you fit for combat within two months, and that’s what we’re going to do, even if by the looks of you it may be ‘mission impossible’ (“Going for the insults, I see”). Your training will include running and fitness workouts, cardio-vascular exercises, stamina and strength training, Krav Maga, knife practice, usage of a range of firearms, setting up field observations, including the operation of classified equipment, and finally, surveillance training by civilian guides at a different facility.

  “I have to be honest with you. We usually spend six months training the very best people in these skills. I really hope that two months will suffice for you to absorb everything and get into shape. It means you’ll have to put in a lot of hard work. You’re to report to the gate every day at exactly two p.m. Training will take place from 14:30 to 20:30. Any questions?”

  No one spoke after the long speech.

  “Well, in that case, you’ll find lockers in the next room with your names on them. Go get dressed and report back outside in ten minutes.”

  They found sneakers, sweatshirts and sweatpants in their lockers and were surprised to see each had received exactly the right size. As soon as they stepped outside the instructor, named Yael (“She couldn’t be more different than ‘my’ Yael at the office”) told them to follow her, and immediately broke into a run.

  The team members tried to keep up. They ran across the driveway and onto a side road that led them through eucalyptus trees and into an orchard. The smell of citrus blossoms filled the air.

  Naomi found the ease with which Yael ran quite irritating. Her legs, on the other hand, were already starting to feel heavy and she wished she had started going to the gym regularly with Shuli a year ago when she first asked her to. They crossed paths with a small group of soldiers jogging with ease and great speed ahead of them before disappearing behind a bend in the road (“Oh, fuck, I’m definitely too old for this shit”). She noticed Ziv jogging next to Yael effortlessly, while Gila, Aaron and Yaniv straggled behind, a little out of breath. The rest of them were clustered in one group, trying to keep up.

  Minutes passed, sweatshirts became sweat-soaked, until about an hour later they were back at the building. They kept running and turned to a double door marked with the number 115, and Naomi was surprised to find herself inside a large gymnasium with parquet floors. In the middle was a square of about five meters by five meters covered in firm blue mattresses. Ladders were positioned along the walls and punching bags hung from the ceiling.

  “Keep doing laps around the court and slowly shift to a walking pace.”

  “OK, line up everybody and follow my lead. We’ll do some exercises to relax your muscles and prevent them from cramping”. Yael was extremely flexible (“Let’s see how she does when she’s my age”).

  Naomi lost track of time. They finished stretching.

  “OK, I want you all to go get a drink of water. No, actually, that’s an order. Even if you don’t feel thirsty.”

  They all went to the shower rooms. The line of faucets above the elongated stainless steel sink brought a smile to Naomi’s face, reminding her of her army days. She drank and stuck her head under the tap, letting the cold water wash away the dry sweat. She took a glimpse of herself in the mirror (“Oh my god, I look like a wreck”).

  When they emerged back onto the court, Yael was standing next to a burly guy dressed in white (“Must be a karate or judo outfit”) with a black belt embossed with gold numbering tied across his waist.

  “Everyone meet Effy. He’s a Krav Maga instructor and karate master, dan grade seven.”

  “We will not be learning karate,” said Effy in an authoritative voice. “Karate is a way of life that cannot be taught in two months, or in thirty years. What we will be learning is some fighting techniques. You’ll be using your bare hands, your feet, your head, your knees, and every other part of your body or random objects we can lay our hands on to use as a fighting instrument. We aim not only to learn techniques but mostly to instill you with internal fighting spirit. Some call it Krav Maga – contact combat. I don’t like that definition. Let’s start getting a feel of bare hands fighting. You,” he turned to Ziv.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ziv.”

  “And you?”

  “Naomi.”

  “Please step onto the mat.”

  Naomi and Ziv assumed their places with a somewhat bashful expression (“Why do we need these kung-fu games? This stuff is for kids”).

  “Ziv, please tackle Naomi and push her to the ground.”

  Ziv was clearly uncomfortable going up against a woman. He started circling Naomi with a big smile on his face.

  “I see you have trouble hitting a woman. OK, Yael, come here please.”

  He called Yael and asked Naomi to step down and sit by the side of the mat. Yael took her place opposite Ziv and again Ziv stalled. Yael attacked him and he found himself flat on the mat with a knife at his throat within two seconds. The smile on his face now turned to a look of utter shock.

  “So you think a female terrorist will have any guilt or stall before jumping you? Snap out of it, the sooner the better.”

  Effy brought Naomi back up to the mat to face Ziv. He lingered for a split second but after a shout from Effy put his arms around Naomi and gently dropped her to the mat.

  “OK, nice. Now come at her with punches or kicks or whatever you want. I want to see her surrender.” Once again Ziv took his time, trying to find a gentle way to attack.

  “Shit, you just don’t get it. Yael!” And again Yael took Naomi’s place on the mat. Ziv circled her and tried a tentative punch towards her stomach, careful not to hurt her. Yael blocked his ‘punch’, diverted it, drawing Ziv to one side and sending a swivel kick to the back of his head. Ziv fell to the mat but Yael wouldn’t let go. She gave out a battle cry and sent a punch to his face, stopping just a half inch short of actually hitting him.

  Ziv was left lying on his back, totally stunned.

  “You got that, Mister Ziv? Now go after Naomi. Naomi, take the mat.” Ziv began circling Naomi, sending a punch here and a kick there, trying to take her down to the mat. At first she didn’t know how to defend herself or attack him but after taking a few blows to the stomach and face, Naomi began to retaliate and even managed to hit Ziv a few times.

  One after the other, the team members paired up and mounted the mat. When each round was over and Effy made each duo step down, they all sported big smiles, like children playing some rough game.

  “Listen up. Any connection between what you just did and Krav Maga is purely coincidental,” said Effy. “Any kid with a bit of skill would have slaughtered any one of you. The terrorists have many skilled kids, not to mention adults. So if you want to survive for more than one minute out there I suggest you keep your eyes open and practice. And wipe those stupid grins off your faces.”

>   He started giving them their first Krav Maga lesson.

  At the end of practice every muscle in Naomi’s body ached. The showers had no hot water so she decided to wait until she got home. She sat down with the rest of the female team members on the shower room benches. Keren and Gila couldn’t hide their tears.

  “My god, you know how long it’s been since I did any kind of sports?” said Keren, slouched across the wet bench. Naomi changed back into her work clothes even though she reeked of sweat. The minibus returned them to the main gate. Everyone was silent. It was dark out. She got into her car (“Oh this feels good,”) and after just sitting there for a few minutes turned the key and drove toward Tel Aviv.

  She realized she hadn’t eaten all afternoon. She could barely drag herself out of her car as she parked outside the building. The warm water in the shower helped her body relax a bit. She did not check her answering machine, but turned on the TV and opened the fridge, which was completely empty except for some leftovers from the Chinese food she’d ordered with Moshe.

  She sat on the living room couch, eating straight from the take away boxes, and washed down the rice that stuck in her throat with a drink of tap water (“It might be time I finally got a water cooler”). Then she checked her computer, but saw no new emails and went back to the TV.

  The Matrix was on, which she’d already seen about a dozen times. Then she was surprised to see it dubbed into Hebrew, before realizing she was actually watching the morning news. She’d fallen asleep on the couch again. She took an extra hot shower to ease her tense muscles, threw on whatever was still in her closet (“I must do some laundry, I’ve got nothing left to wear”), and even found the time to talk to her mother on the way to the office. Then she checked her home messages. There was one from an old high school friend letting know about an upcoming reunion, one from Rami happily reporting a new legal find, and another one, the one she was most pleased to hear, from Moshe, saying he was back from Europe (“Then I definitely got it wrong at the airport”). He wanted to know if she would like to meet up and she decided to call him back that night, after training.