The End of Terror

by Howitt, Bruce

  This heinous crime shocked not only Israel but most of the Western world. Ari’s mission, given to him by the commander of the Mista′arvim himself, was to seek out these despicable men and terminate them wherever they were found.

  Ari knew that the terrorists had come down the coast by high-speed Zodiac boat from Lebanon, because Israeli naval radar had identified the passage of the Zodiac in both directions. Naval intelligence had been able to track the group of four jihadis fleeing up the coast and determined that the boat had originally commenced from and then returned to the small coastal village of Al-Sarafand.

  Six Mista′arvim under Ari’s leadership, Rasalim (sergeants) Micha Flosberg, Nahum Sharon; Rabatim (corporals) Alon Gold, Baruch Feldner, and Turalim (private) Avram Almein followed the same route up the coast into Lebanon. There they disembarked at a small cove a few miles south of Al-Sarafand and carefully concealed the Zodiac under some rocks and foliage.

  As-Sarafand was about 22 miles north of the border. The Israelis waited until daylight, then slowly and carefully made their way to the town. To any casual observers, the pairs of Arab men dressed in thobes and keffiyehs walking along the road toward As-Sarafand were merely workers journeying into town looking for employment. Once there, they walked about and began to gather clandestine intelligence on the four terrorists. This was not difficult to do. The terrorists had been hailed as heroes of the resistance and the townspeople were openly praising them. It didn’t take Ari’s team long to locate the terrorists with big mouths. When Ari and his men ambled through the town square in pairs — so as not to attract too much attention — they soon had their targets in plain sight.

  The young men of the area gathered to show off, discussing the terrible state of the poor Palestinians, passing out candy, and waving flags about their impending conquest of Israel. Ari and his group could hardly believe their luck; sitting at an outdoor café were the four perpetrators, front and centre and easily identifiable, smiling and boasting of their heroic feat. They were surrounded by several young men who ultimately, one day, wished to emulate them.

  Listening to their bombast and jubilation of their “heroic” mission sickened Ari and his team.

  Around noon, Sergeant Sharon and Ari meandered across the square to another café and sat at an outdoor table so they could observe the four individuals.

  Ari and Sharon ordered tea and pastries, keeping the four Arabs in sight. Ari spoke quietly on an open channel to Sharon, so all their men could hear. “Just look at these pieces of shit. They seem to think killing babies is heroic. Sergeant, we are about to change their minds for good. Listen up, everyone! Almein, you casually join them and get them comfortable with you. We will be watching to see if any others join them.”

  Private Almein, whose parents were Iraqi Jews, Mizrahim, looked more Arab than most Ashkenazic Israelis did. He was fluent in several dialects of Arabic. He wandered over to the four young men and congratulated them on their achievement. He was immediately embraced into their gathering and, for the next hour, they all regaled each other with tales of bravery and conquest. Avram Almein was at times the most boastful and soon was acknowledged as a leader among them.

  Ari and Sharon stood and left the café and slowly walked around the square looking for any threats.

  Sergeant Flosberg and the two corporals stayed in the background, awaiting a command signal from Ari via their earpieces, which were hidden by the traditional keffiyeh headdress they all wore. As the afternoon progressed, the men began to disperse, and the four terrorists and Private Almein were suddenly the only patrons remaining in the café they had been sitting in.

  Ari and Nahum Sharon soon recognized that a Toyota 4x4 parked adjacent to the café belonged to the terrorists. This would be most useful in their extraction from Lebanon.

  With whispered communications, Ari detailed the plan. “Gold, Flosberg, move on the café. Get close enough, wait for me and Almein to jump these bastards, and then do your part. Feldner, Sharon, you get that 4x4, it’s theirs. We’ll use it to make our way out of here.”

  Like in a well-rehearsed ballet, the Israeli commandos, led by Ari, moved in on the terrorists. Private Almein, Sergeant Flosberg, Corporal Gold, and Ari would each kill one of the terrorists with garrotes and the uniquely deadly two-edged Israeli commando combat knives.

  Ari positioned himself behind the largest, oldest, and undisputed leader, whom he recognized as Ali-Mohammad Abu from some earlier Mossad file he had seen. Quickly, Ari pulled Abu’s head back, exposing his throat. One firm slash with his knife and Ari ended Abu’s life. A gush of arterial blood spurted from Abu’s neck all over the table and the three remaining terrorists. Gold used his serrated garrote on one of the other men, who didn’t even have a chance to stand up from the table as his buddy Abu’s blood covered everything. The other two jumped to their feet as soon as Ari slashed Abu, each attempting to grab a Makarov pistol from their waistbands. They were dead before they had their hands on the butts of their weapons.

  Private Almein and Sergeant Flosberg each expertly stabbed the two terrorists in the eye with their commando battle knives, instantly penetrating their brains and killing them. As soon as the four killers were dispatched to the seventy-two virgins, all six of the Mista′arvim piled into the Toyota with Corporal Feldner at the wheel. They headed back to the cove where they had landed 2 miles from the centre of town and uncovered the Zodiac they had hidden on the deserted beach. Ari ordered his men to carry the Zodiac down and into the water. As soon as they had launched the vessel, Gold and Sharon lowered and started the twin 200hp outboards and the squad headed south at maximum speed. They had exited the town square undiscovered and easily evacuated the beach.

  Within fifteen minutes of assassinating the four terrorists, the Israelis were riding at high speed back to Israeli waters. An Israeli naval patrol boat was assigned to watch over them, shadowing them offshore and providing cover in the event Hezbollah or Lebanese armed forces attempted to intercept them.

  When Ari and his team returned to their base, there was a debriefing and congratulations from their commander, Captain Herschel Zimmerman.

  “Nice clean op, Lazarus. The intelligence we’re getting from across the border is that all four were about to be feted as heroes. Now the locals are all pissed that they are also martyrs. Apart from the usual trashy claims about the Zionist occupier and evil enemy, neither the Lebanese nor Hezbollah have a clue as to what actually happened. Well done.”

  Ari and his team were satisfied that they had sent a warning to future terrorists. The news out of Lebanon was that four heroes of the resistance had died while valiantly fighting off an overwhelming force of Zionist bandits who had attempted to occupy Lebanon. The four had easily fought the enemy before being overwhelmed by a much larger force of Zionist interlopers.

  Naturally, the leaders of Hezbollah and the Palestinian Authority named the dead terrorists as martyrs of the occupation resistance, cried to the world about Israeli brutality, yet had not a shred of proof, since there were no witnesses.

  As is the Israeli way, there were no celebrations or even declarations of Israeli participation in the assassinations. As far as Israel claimed, the terrorists had been killed in a tribal dispute.

  Abu’s very large family put on a week-long mourning event in the traditional grieving tent, garnering sympathy and condolences from far and wide. Of course, Israel was blamed, but strangely there was not a shred of hard evidence to connect to the Israeli commandos. There were no spent shells, only assumptions woven into the biased narrative of the anti-Israel media, which did not mention the butchered Israeli family.

  For Ari and his squad of Mista′arvim, it was sickening to watch the anti-Israel media. At the UN, the EU Ambassador accused Israel of war crimes and completely ignored any mention of the beach attack and the murders of the innocent family. Even more repugnant was an op-ed in The New York Times calling for sanctions against Israel for war crimes. Joining the fray were two left-leaning congress
men, one from New York and the other from California, demanding that the United States cut off all aid to Israel and have the Prime Minister of Israel charged before the ICC in The Hague for Human Rights abuses.

  If ever Ari needed a motivator for his later actions, it was these partisan attacks on his country and fellow Israelis.

  CHAPTER 11

  Montreal, Quebec, September 2002

  After completing his tour of duty, Ari entered the Technion and excelled at all of his studies. After two years, at age 23, he elected to take a break and go to his mother’s alma mater, McGill University in Montreal, Canada. Ari arrived in Montreal eager to explore and understand life in North America.

  He entered McGill University in awe of the beautiful setting among the trees and the mountain, the dominant feature of the Montreal landscape. He stayed with his grandparents, Arnold and Rhoda Grantzman, who were happy to have him with them.

  Ari studied French literature, since his French language skills, acquired from Sophie, were excellent, and he perfected his English while taking a philosophy and bioethics course. The philosophy course was one of the most sought-after classes on campus. The professor, Dr. Jackson Aronstein, was well renowned for his brilliance, but besides being a masterful lecturer and author, he was one of the funniest individuals Ari had ever met.

  It was during his year under Dr. Aronstein’s tutelage that Ari honed his analytical skills and power of reasoning. Dr. Aronstein, through the use of incredibly effective humour, drew Ari out and forced him to think about and debate any subject he turned his fertile mind to. The teacher and mentor was a unique character; an oenophile and a gourmet. Every session he taught usually began or ended with a quick funny commentary on a dinner he had enjoyed in a cozy little restaurant in Old Montreal or an incredible wine tasting he experienced in the Italian district.

  At the end of one lecture, Dr. Aronstein asked Ari to remain behind. “So young Lazarus, I understand the Grantzmans are your grandparents and you live in Israel. Now that is a wonderful country! I’ve travelled there several times, always fascinated by the ever-changing demographics and culture; yet it always remains Jewish in a way we here in North America can never replicate. Tell me, besides getting to know your grandparents, why are you here taking my courses?”

  Ari was a little taken aback by this direct and intriguing question. “Professor Aronstein…”

  “Ari, when it’s just us you can call me Jack.”

  “Professor… I mean, Jack, I heard of your course and felt it would help me reconcile my thoughts and actions from when I was in the military.”

  “Interesting. I do not believe I’ve ever had a student on active service in the military. You were in the Israeli Army, I gather?”

  “Yes. I spent almost four years in the IDF. Killing has not traditionally been the Jewish way, but I have learned from you to settle my conscience. I am at peace with all I’ve done.”

  “How so?”

  “If my country is attacked as it has been, from all sides, by countries intent on destroying us just because we are Jews, and even with international support, I cannot allow it to happen. So, Jack, you helped me determine that if a man kills another in the course of protecting his family and countrymen, he has the right to do so.”

  “Ari, did you enjoy taking those lives?”

  “Not at all. In fact, the knowledge that I was going to have to kill sometimes made me sick to my stomach. I would lie awake the night before an action and debate if I really had any right to terminate another’s life.”

  “So how did I help?”

  “You were specific, and careful to describe essential differences between killing and murder. Your explanations made sense in the context of the commandment ‘Thou shalt not murder.’”

  “Interesting. Here you are in a McGill course, reconciling your actions on the battlefield with the impact of my teachings. I will not pry into where you were and what you did in your IDF, but let me assure you that the very fact we are discussing this here and now is a great testament to your character. I want to thank you for sharing your thoughts.”

  “Profess — I mean, Jack. Thank you, your support means a great deal.”

  “I’m glad. It’s rare that I am able to have such a discussion with a student. Thank you, Ari. Now I have a rendezvous with a magnificent bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé and an exquisite sole meunière at my favourite establishment in Vieux-Montréal. We shall discuss again. Bonsoir, Lazarus.”

  “Goodnight, Jack. Enjoy.”

  As he made his way home, Ari reflected on his meeting with Dr. Aronstein, and for some reason felt more at peace with himself than he had in several months. His belief in his country and his contributions were reaffirmed.

  One Shabbat evening not long after, at dinner, Arnold Grantzman asked Ari, “What do you think of Professor Aronstein?”

  “Opa, without doubt this man is one of the most brilliant I have ever met.”

  “How so?”

  “He gets a whole class of fifty-plus students in a lecture hall to hang on his every word while he lectures on philosophy. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. There is no irritating background noise of paper or feet shuffling. No whispered side conversations. Just rapt silence and attention.”

  “You know he is very well known inside and outside of McGill. Within our social circle, there are several professionals who attended McGill, as well as their children, and they all speak of Jack Aronstein in glowing terms. As a matter of fact, a number of your grandmother’s lady friends vie with each other to have him as a dinner guest. We have been at one such dinner and I have to grant you he is brilliant, but along with that sharp mind is an incredible sense of humour. We were rolling in the aisles listening to him, and after dinner on the way home, we discussed the most entertaining lecture we had received on bioethics that we didn’t appreciate until we had departed.

  “Indeed, Ari, you are most fortunate to be one of the lucky students to attend his classes.”

  “Opa, I know that. We all so look forward to his classes. The best part is that he knows every one of us by name, even our backgrounds, and is quite prepared to stay after his lecture and debate or counsel us. Always with a wonderful overriding sense of humour. He is an amazing man.”

  CHAPTER 12

  After two years of the harsh Canadian winters, Ari returned to Tel Aviv in 2004. He was overjoyed to see that his grandparents were now living in a small apartment close to his parents.

  Ari was not so sure of what he wanted to do now that he was back home, so he went back to the Technion for two years and finished a degree in electronic communications. After graduating at twenty-seven, he began a search for a job with one of the many new high-tech companies springing up all over Israel at that time. None of the companies or jobs really caught his interest until he joined a small start-up that was manufacturing software for the Air Force. They were taking anti-missile electronics out of the US-supplied fighter aircraft and reconfiguring the software; this would enable IAF pilots to identify and evade multiple missile threats with a greater degree of speed and accuracy.

  As he was being shown around the facilities, he noticed a stunning young woman peering through an electro-microscope in one of the test labs. Later that day, he caught up to her in the commissary and introduced himself.

  “Hi, I’m Ari Lazarus and I know you are Leah. Hi, Leah.”

  Taken aback, Leah ignored him. She was diffident, but since he had noticed her name on her ID tag, she knew he knew her name was Leah Friedman.

  Following in his brazen, direct manner, Ari sat at her table and began a conversation, albeit one-sided. “So, beautiful Leah Friedman, you are being really cold toward me. That is totally unacceptable. I would suggest before you completely brush me off and send me on my way that you at least do me the honour of agreeing to a coffee date at a nice café. Then, if I am not your type, I will unhappily say goodbye and that will be the sum total of our relationship.”

  Leah could not be
lieve the nerve of Mr. Ari Lazarus. She appraised him in silence for about a minute and then shocked herself by standing up, smiling, and saying, “Since you put it that way, yes, I’ll have coffee with you. Tomorrow at six, at the Origem coffee house.”

  She turned on her heel and walked away, bothered by the effect he had on her. Uhmm! He is certainly captivating. Nevertheless, Leah was convinced she would have her coffee and then politely be on her way.

  Things did not work out so simply. Ari’s sophistication and good looks lowered her resistance. She was enthralled.

  Ari stood when she approached his table. “Hi Leah, I half believed you wouldn’t show up.”

  Conversation was easy. Time stood still for both of them and the quick coffee date became a two-and-a-half-hour discovery tour of each other. Leah finally had to go home to her parents for dinner, but not without exchanging phone numbers and addresses with Ari. When she arrived home, she described him to her parents, something she had never done before.

  Ari and Leah began dating and shortly after, Leah invited him home for the first night of Passover. Ari had to plead his case to be excused by his parents, since Eli and Sophie always made a big Seder, which was very important to Ephraim and Miriam.

  Ari also captivated Leah’s parents. Her father, Max, had served with the Sayeret Matkal and immediately bonded with the young man, even though they both knew that they could not share stories about past missions. Leah’s mother, Ruth, was smitten by Ari’s demeanour and caring attention toward Leah. They had never before felt so connected to a stranger. It was obvious to both families that Ari and Leah were head-over-heels in love.

  Ari’s parents, especially Sophie, were constantly insisting that Leah visit at any time. As the relationship between the two families grew, the three women — Sophie, Ruth and Leah — would embark on shopping expeditions or charitable events at Hadassah Hospital together.