Deadly Ties

by Aaron Ben-Shahar

  Producer & International Distributor

  eBookPro Publishing

  www.ebook-pro.com

  Deadly Ties

  Aaron Ben Shahar

  Copyright © 2020 Aaron Ben Shahar

  All rights reserved; No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, of the author.

  Translation from the Hebrew: Guri Arad

  Contact: bsaaron28@gmail.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Part Two

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Part Three

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Part Four

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Part Five

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Epilogue

  “Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.”

  Albert Einstein

  Prologue

  The prime minister was sitting at the head of the table with the minister of defense to his right and the science minister to his left. The chief of IDF general staff was sitting next to the defense minister, and next to him sat the intelligence affairs and strategy advisor. The head of the Mossad was sitting left of the science minister, and next to him sat the head of the General Security Service (GSS). This was Israel’s top echelon.

  The meeting was taking place in room X, whose exact location, four floors below the basement of the Mossad building on a hill north of Tel Aviv was known to precious few. There was a small antechamber right at the front, accessible only by an elevator, with an entry code known only to the head of the GSS security department, who had led the group into room X earlier.

  Prior to their entry into the room, each of the participants, without exception, was asked to leave his cellphone with the head of the GSS security department. The cellphones were disconnected from their batteries and placed into the safe at the lobby.

  The door leading from the antechamber to room X featured hidden magnetometers that monitored the participants without their knowledge. The room itself comprised a unique electronic system constructed by a select team of electronics engineers from the GSS operations department. This system foiled any means of gleaning information on the goings-on in room X through wiretapping, taking images or any type of surveillance.

  The participants were all seated when the prime minister began. His message, like those of everyone else, was not recorded, but rather taken down by the GSS security department chief in his own hand. He later filed the protocol in a specially dedicated safe whose combination was known only to him. A backup code was kept by one of the members of Israel’s security community, who was chosen jointly by the head of the Mossad and the head of the GSS.

  “Gentlemen,” the prime minister began, “we are gathered here today to discuss one issue and one issue only, namely – the removal of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps commander. I now call upon the head of the Mossad to provide us with a short briefing.”

  “We’ve had IRGC Commander Mehdi Mohammadi in our sights for many years now,” the head of Mossad began his review. “Mossad began compiling a file on him back when he was a junior university student in Thessaloniki, where he was also an operative for Iranian intelligence. He rose in the ranks all the way to the top thanks to his unique skills, uncanny ferocity, and extraordinary valor.

  “At some point, Mehdi caught the attention of the CIA, who soon discovered it was he who had shot dead point-blank one of their top agents in Europe. MI 6 also initiated a file on him, a little belatedly, after they found out it was Mehdi who was behind the elimination of one of their own, whose body surfaced in the Bosporus.

  “Our own security services have a bitter score to settle with Mehdi. He had one of our best field commanders, whose name is still a secret, eliminated. On top of that, he masterminded numerous operations against Israeli targets worldwide.

  “Today’s meeting was called urgently when we received accurate intelligence according to which he is planning a major terrorist attack on one of our important embassies in Africa.

  “Our joint efforts with the GSS Operations Department led to the conclusion it is high time we rid the world of this mass murderer.”

  “Now that we have heard from Mossad,” concluded the prime minister, “the concise message of the head of Mossad brings this matter before your approval. I would like your vote on the removal of the commander of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps by a show of hands.”

  Everyone present raised his hand.

  Part One

  Chapter One

  “Surprise! Surprise!” Estée heard Claudia’s lively voice over the phone. She was her cousin on her mother’s side of the family. “You thought you were going to get married and that’s it, nothing else?”

  Claudia lived in Thessaloniki, where she worked at a travel agency. They knew each other since childhood, but the year before, after spending six nights with Claudia and her girlfriends in Thessaloniki’s ouzo bars, where the staff poured and poured, and the playful music added further gusto to the festivities, Estée felt their bond grow stronger.

  “What are you up to, Claudia?”

  “We’re throwing you a bachelorette party!”

  “Who’s we? What’s the plan?”

  “We is us two and Celia, remember her?”

  “How could I forget?”

  Celia, Claudia’s best friend, was as breathtakingly beautiful as she was petite. A real chatterbox, she left an unforgettable impression on Estée. Celia knew all the Greek tunes that were playing there, filling Ladadika, Thessaloniki’s main entertainment district, with mirth to accompany all those wonderful seafood restaurants that catered to local and foreign thrill seekers alike. How was it that Claudia referred to Celia in a moment of elation? “The lioness of Thessaloniki’s roar of life.”

  “I am getting excited already,” continued Estée, and added, “So what’s the plan?”

  “I found this great spot in Sithonia,” replied Claudia. “It’s one of those treasures Greece received as a gift directly from the gods. An hour and a half’s drive south of Thessaloniki. An eight-room boutique hotel. You’re gonna love it. Celia took it upon herself to take care of all of our culinary delights. She’s promised us an experience like no other.”

  Estée, a mere bank clerk from Haifa, who had never tasted seafood until the year before, got fidgety. “Everything sounds great, but isn’t all this a bit too much?”

  “What is up with you?” Claudia was her usual confident, joyful se
lf. “You don’t get married every day. Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

  One quick phone call, and Estée found out that there wasn’t a direct flight from Tel Aviv the day she and her girlfriends were going to meet.

  “Claudia, it’s me,” Estée called her up. “I am pushing my flight up to Monday, the day before we meet. The idea of having a day all to myself appeals to me. That day is on me. No point arguing. Just update the hotel and have them book me a room for another day prior to your and Celia’s arrival.”

  “Got it. Don’t worry about the room. We’re arriving at the end of the tourist season, so we’re going to be the only guests in the entire hotel. I’ll arrange everything with Maria, the resort manager. See you in paradise.”

  ***

  The red-eye flight from Tel Aviv to Thessaloniki took two hours. On arrival, Estée boarded a local south-bound bus serving local commuters from Thessaloniki to the Sithonia Peninsula. After a bumpy two-hour drive, she finally arrived at the hotel, where she met Maria in a modest room that served as the reception. Maria handed Estée her room key. A few short steps, and there was Estée’s room.

  The moment she got it, she threw what little luggage she had on the single armchair and immediately fell asleep on the comfy bed, where she slept soundly for three hours.

  Estée woke from her dreamless slumber, took a shower and got into an Arab galabia. She had picked that robe up on a trip to Jerusalem’s old market. She was now ready to explore this place her girlfriends got her to.

  The views and sights were amazing. The front of the hotel had an infinity pool with waters that seemed to merge with the blue bay yonder. This bay stretched across from the Sithonia Peninsula to the nearby Athos Peninsula.

  “If you’re thinking of trying to get to the Athos Peninsula, forget it,” Maria told Estée as she came out of the kitchen, while offering her a glass of ouzo, her first for that day. Maria was about forty, as beautiful as she was kind, with a pair of piercing eyes. She poured Estée and herself a glass of ouzo each and downed hers in one gulp.

  “They call the Athos Peninsula ‘the Island of Men’ as well,” she told Estée. “It has dozens of monasteries and women are prohibited. There are no roads, so the only access is by ferry. Besides, what business does a pretty girl like you have there? The monks are celibate, isolated from civilization. They don’t even allow TVs and cellphones. Owning them is strictly prohibited.”

  “I really have no business going there,” agreed Estée, smiling.

  “Take the path down, and you’ll find what you are looking for,” Maria winked whimsically.

  ‘How could she know what I was looking for?’ Estée asked herself. ‘I wish I knew myself,’ she grinned slightly and went down to the beach.

  ‘Amazing!’ was the first word that occurred to Estée as she got to the cove that was right next to her hotel, but she immediately purged it from her vocabulary for seeming too small, too bland to capture the scenery for, to her, the inlet seemed like a droplet of azure that had dripped from the Creator’s pallet at the moment of creation. Round and surrounded on three sides by cliffs, the bay’s eastern side opened up to a wide mouth. The bay itself consisted of tiny patches of islands that formed a zipper-like line. Soundless sailboats traversed these tiny islands in search of a path to the open sea.

  The Athos Peninsula lay across, on the other side of the cove. Towering over its southern tip, the mountain it was named after, in honor of a giant mentioned in Greek mythology, stretched all the way to the edge of the peninsula, where white cliffs dropped in a magnificent angle right to sea.

  Lying on a comfy chair, her must-have glass of ouzo in one hand, Estée watched the sea’s changing hues right before her tear-filling eyes as the day went by and as the sun cast the cliffs’ shadow around the bay.

  The deep blue of the cove turned into a crimson. All the different tones seemed to be produced by this huge crystal ball. Responding to the color of the white cliffs above and to the sandy bottom of the bay, the water seemed to turn clearer every now and then. The water was so clear, she could count every grain of sand.

  Evening was drawing nearer, so only few holiday makers remained at the beach now. Perched on her chair, Estée was considering whether to take off her galabia, the only thing she had on, and go native. Rather than join the other bathers and lie naked, she let her laziness prevail. Clad in her robe, Estée downed her third glass of ouzo that enchanted afternoon, right after the teenage waiter catering to the guests at the beach had served it to her.

  As she lay there, marveling at the mighty Athos that dominated the view in front of her, she watched the sun setting down, filling the mountain range with dark, heavy brushstrokes. The scenery grew grayer, their lighter shade fading, succumbing to the tenderness of dusk.

  Suddenly, the whole world seemed to grind to a halt. The Athos mountain range turned black, while the summit, far and lofty, remained golden in the distant sun, lighting the world like a huge lantern.

  Then, transfixed, Estée saw the Lord turning the summit off as well, all the way from the foot of the mountain. It took several minutes, and then, in a split-second, the mountain gave off one last flicker before descending into indulgent darkness.

  ‘Time for my fourth ouzo,’ Estée whispered to herself dreaming, as though in a daze. The beach was now lit by dim lanterns. Estée finished her glass of ouzo along with the Greek salad she had ordered, bid a heavyhearted farewell to the beach and made her way back to the hotel. Euphoric and saturated with ouzo, she strutted to the small chamber that Maria used as the hotel reception.

  ‘She isn’t here. But who’s this?’ Estée spotted a tall, dark, blue-eyed man with flowing curly hair all the way to his shoulders. ‘Is this Athos?’ she wondered to herself. His presence dominated the room and caused Estée to go silent. She couldn’t even utter her room number. All she could bring herself to do was raise three fingers of her left hand. Athos, or at least the person she thought was Athos, didn’t utter a single word either as, with his long fingers, he handed her the key to room three.

  Estée crawled to her room, opened her door despite her quivering hands, removed the key and replaced it on the other side of the keyhole, from inside the room, but as she proceeded to lock the door, her hand slipped and she sat on the bed, catching her breath.

  A few seconds passed, and then she heard a knock on her door.

  In came Athos.

  Estée knew.

  He took his blue t-shirt off, and before he removed his shorts, Estée had already removed her robe. All at once, their bodies clung to each other. They moved over to the bed, embracing. Estée could not tell whether this took a moment or whether this lasted an eternity.

  Not a word was uttered, not a sigh was sounded.

  Athos disappeared suddenly, much like that mountain that vanished along with the sun.

  Estée was a beautiful young woman. A bit short, clear-skinned and sporting a pair of shining blue eyes, she was one of those teenagers who find it hard to come to terms with their own beauty, repressing it from their minds. Until Athos came along, that is. Before he turned up, her sexual experience had been scarce and sparse: the odd hand over her breast there, fingers fumbling, lips pert, and her virginity lost in some summer trip she took to the desert with a classmate. Oh, to be sure, she and her girlfriends spent a great deal talking about sex but actually had very little of it.

  Estée had spent her compulsory military service out in the desert, in a completely desolate spot, with nothing but fellow women soldiers around. But for a chance encounter with Avram, a soldier she met at a hitchhiker’s stop right before his own military service was drawing to a close, she had had no sex at all. Avram was of average height, his black hair was combed to either side, showing off his soft brown eyes and prominent chin. He was hardly the leading man type. Nothing about his outward appearance could make Estée boast about him or even consider show
ing his picture off to her friends. Nevertheless, his inner peace endeared him to her, and the attention he bestowed on her appealed to her. More than anything else, she loved his home back in the valley, amid fragrant orchards and green fields. They began having sex shortly after their first encounter. Nothing thrilling, though. Satisfying and regular was the most she could say about it.

  Nothing of all this had prepared her for the tumultuous, earth-shuddering, unworldly time she had with Athos. Their torrid romp filled Estée to the brim, leaving her in a daze of passion and pleasure the like of which she had never known. He vanished just as suddenly as he had appeared. Estée was still lying on her bed, weary to the point of falling asleep, suddenly recalling an experience she had a few years back.

  One day, she had gone to the beach by herself. After a short swim, she had decided to go home and had waited for a good strong wave to carry her back to the beach. Then, this great swell had suddenly grabbed her by the back, thrown her up and slammed at the back of her neck to the bottom of the sea. She lay there, motionless, under the water, unable to count the seconds. She felt her mind was going blurry, she was losing control.

  This powerful experience stayed with Estée her entire life. She marveled at how she could still accurately retain so many details of what had happened despite her daze and partial loss of consciousness. She recalled a seashell she had seen on the sea floor, the tones of the water that had forced her down and the color of the swimsuit strap twirling about her neck.

  The experience with Athos reignited the memory of Estée drowning. The same daze and sense of blur came back, along with the memory of several details she knew she would always remember. The muscles on his back felt like living beings under her quivering hands; his long fingers, dark skin, well-defined thighs, going up and down over her so amazingly… She remembered it all in and of itself, and above all, she recalled his scent, so much like that of the sea itself. Estée kept feeling his touch and the weight of his body all through the night, long after he had gone. Not wanting to lose any trace of this, she did not take a shower.