The Peace Killers

by Ty Patterson

‘You have five hours.’

  * * *

  Zeb split from the sisters and investigated the main admin building for himself. The twins walked with Carmel and Dalia, who showed them around.

  The three of them hadn’t checked out the base the previous day. They had spent most of it, after their arrival, with the base’s commander, and Moshe Abhyan.

  He joined them an hour later and gestured to a vehicle that was waiting outside.

  ‘Want a tour of the base? To the areas that no one sees?’

  A resounding ‘yeah’ was his answer.

  Driven by a tight-lipped captain, the four of them went to the exercise grounds and watched a drill in progress: IDF teams attacking what looked like a Syrian terrorist training camp. A chopper flew overhead and a drone made passes, as the soldiers went from stealth mode to aggressive attack, from house to house, as enemy fire tracked them

  ‘How did you wrangle this?’ Beth asked in awe, as they halted at a distance. A hundred yards away there was a team of uniformed observers, watching through binos. They didn’t make any attempt to stop their vehicle. Nor did they approach it.

  They are tolerating us.

  That didn’t surprise Zeb. No military commander liked the presence of externals in his camp.

  ‘You have met the prime minister,’ he reminded the younger sister.

  Carmel and Dalia looked at them sharply. ‘You have, what?’

  ‘It was accidental,’ Zeb assured them. ‘We met in passing.’

  Carmel gave him a long, disbelieving look. ‘Really?’

  ‘Even we, and I know Dalia and I have security clearances at par with them,’ she jerked a shoulder at the soldiers, ‘aren’t allowed entry. Just who are the three of you?’

  ‘Friends of Avichai,’ Zeb shrugged, and the kidon had to settle for that.

  Alice Monash and the ramsad were at the base when they returned.

  ‘We arrived yesterday, but didn’t see you anywhere. Checked out the place? It doesn’t look like even a fly can enter this base unauthorized, at least not to my untrained eyes.’

  ‘Seems like that, ma’am, but we can’t take anything for granted.’

  ‘You are satisfied?’ Levin queried.

  ‘Yes, but it is Abhyan you should ask. We are careful watchers, nothing more.’

  * * *

  At seven pm, Zeb joined Carmel, who was briefing her team in front of a drinks’ stand in the open space. There was still foot traffic in the building, despite the hour. It looked like the base didn’t sleep. Time merely slowed in the night.

  Meghan looked back at him. ‘Nothing yet on Raskov’s file. He’d encrypted it. Werner’s trying out various algorithms that the Russians normally use.’

  Zeb nodded absently. He was counting heads and came up one short. He started again.

  Eliel!

  ‘Where is Eliel?’ he asked Carmel, once the operatives broke up.

  ‘Gone to Haifa. His mother’s condition is deteriorating. Someone from his home called, said she wanted to speak to him.’

  ‘Someone?’

  ‘Cross-checked, Zeb. The caller is genuine. He does have a mother. She is ill. Critically.’

  Navon was with Yakov, the two men talking softly, cradling drinks in their hands. Nachman was with a soldier. Other operatives sprawled in lounge chairs. Some were heading to their rooms.

  Carmel had arranged shifts. Six kidon in twelve-hour rotations. She and a few others would be on watch till the early hours, till other operatives replaced them.

  Zeb found no fault with her system. He had nothing to complain about in terms of security arrangements.

  Still, something niggled at the back of his mind.

  He reviewed the investigation he had carried out on the twelve kidon in the compound. Nope. He was sure they weren’t involved. It wasn’t just his gut feeling; the twins had gone through their data and given them a clean chit.

  I trust their judgment better than mine.

  He listed the various events that had occurred since he had arrived in the country. Found nothing that worried him. That time outside Beit Aghion, when I thought we were being watched. Should I have dug deeper? How?

  He shook his head impatiently. It was behind him now, and in any case Masih had been killed. He continued thinking, staring unseeingly at no one in particular, unaware that Levin had joined the sisters and the three were watching him.

  No. Something else was worrying him, just at the edge of his consciousness.

  He gave up. It would come to him. He hoped it would be well in time and would turn out to be a harmless thought.

  ‘Let’s walk and talk,’ Levin said, tapping his shoulder. ‘You need some fresh air.’

  The four of them went out into the night and moved away from the admin building until they came to a check post. A guard stopped them, while another trained his weapon on them.

  They handed him their credentials. He made calls and waved them past the barrier.

  ‘It’s dark out there, sir,’ Zeb told Levin.

  ‘We aren’t going far. Just to stretch our legs.’

  Levin stopped and glanced at the sky. A pale moon was partly hidden by clouds. A few stars looked down at them.

  ‘I hope what we are doing is right,’ he exhaled loudly.

  ‘What’s that?’ Meghan sat on the ground and rested her back against Beth’s legs.

  ‘You will know in less than forty-eight hours. If Zeb hasn’t told you …’ he gestured apologetically.

  ‘He never tells us anything,’ she said snidely. Then smiled, and all was good.

  ‘No one told me anything, either,’ Zeb protested. ‘I worked it out for myself. What’s worrying you?’ he asked the Mossad director.

  ‘It will divide my country in half. Maybe forever.’

  ‘Nothing’s forever. Twenty, fifty years from now, people will have forgotten.’

  ‘This is the Middle East, Zeb,’ Levin snorted. ‘Centuries of history are remembered as if events happened yesterday.’

  ‘What do you believe in?’

  ‘I would have resigned if I thought the prime minister was wrong. On something as significant as this.’

  ‘Many people call me a killer, Avichai.’

  Meghan got to her feet abruptly. This statement, that voice, was unlike Zeb. Beth grabbed her forearm and urged her to silence.

  ‘There are probably kids out there who will not know their father; women and men whose lives broke down because I killed their partners. I shed blood because I believed it would further peace. I would do so again, without a second thought, if I believed in its rightness. If what Cantor and Baruti announce will help millions of people get certainty in their lives … that they will definitely see another sunrise and sunset, it is a worthy cause.’

  He stopped suddenly when he became aware of three pairs of eyes on him.

  ‘Let’s head back,’ he said, laughing in embarrassment. ‘This fresh air is making me light- headed.’

  Unknown to any of them, Shiri wasn’t far from them.

  He had a flashlight in his mouth and was reading a letter.

  Chapter Sixty

  IDF Base

  Nine days after Assassinations

  Two days to Announcement

  * * *

  Shiri had found the letter in his pocket when he was in his room, as he was changing.

  He took one look at it, recognized the handwriting, and hurried out.

  He found a secluded spot far away from his residential building, propped himself against a boulder and opened it.

  ‘My brother,’ Magal began.

  Shiri blinked. The two men were close friends, but his partner had never addressed him in that manner.

  ‘I have lied to you.’

  His grip on the letter tightened.

  ‘You once asked who I was. Whether I was Israeli. I replied I was Eliel Magal. I lied about that.

  I am …

  Shiri peered at the letter, but it looked like his partner hadn�
�t completed the sentence.

  He drew a sharp breath when he read the next line.

  ‘I am from the same country as the handler. You know that. You are, too. I belong to that country, however. It is a feeling I have never had about Israel. It is something that has grown on me as we worked with the handler and spent time with him.

  Yes, I have lied about that, too. I met him on three other occasions. I didn’t tell you about them. I gave the excuse that I needed to visit my foster family in Haifa.

  I reached out to him all three times. I wanted to know more of that country. Not from the Mossad dossiers or from our missions to it, but to experience it for myself like an ordinary civilian.

  The handler took me to a mosque; he accompanied me as we visited historical sites. He was with me while I watched their Supreme Leader give a speech to thousands of cheering people.

  I felt at home, Navon. It isn’t something I ever experienced in Israel.

  You must be wondering, now, if I have become a Muslim.

  I haven’t. I still remain unreligious, like you. But I think one doesn’t need to follow some religion to belong to some country.

  Obviously, I now feel differently about Israel. I don’t hate it. I don’t dislike it. I feel nothing about it. It is why I have no problems in acting against the ramsad, even though he is a man I respect.

  And it is because all these newfound feelings in me that I have accepted what happens next.

  This is something you should know, Navon.

  There is no escape from that base.

  We are up against too much. Too many soldiers. Too many eyes on the ground and in the sky. Too much remoteness.

  We cannot kill those Palestinians and get away alive.

  Levin, Abhyan, Carter, though I am not sure how much input the American had in this decision, have beaten us by moving the negotiators to this base.

  But they don’t know I will have the last laugh.

  Because I am prepared to die.

  That might sound strange to you, because we are kidon. We might die in a mission and are mentally conditioned to accept it, but we don’t blindly go into an operation where the only surety is that we will die.

  I intend to carry out the mission of killing the Palestinians. It is my way of getting back at the country that took us in but never made us regard it as home.

  Given what I have written so far, you might wonder why I still want to kill Palestinians. The answer is simple.

  I distrust the handler. You are right. He will come after us if we fail. However, he is right in this mission’s objectives and its impact on Israel.

  It will do maximum damage to the country and to its relationships with Middle Eastern countries and the world.

  I will return, Navon, in the morning, with what we need.

  You have two choices with you.

  In your left pocket is another letter.’

  Shiri patted his pocket. Something crinkled. There was a letter.

  ‘In that one, I have confessed to the first killing as well as what we are planning on the base. I have taken sole responsibility.

  You can hand that letter to Carmel. She will arrest me when I return. I will never be seen again, but you will be free. No attack will happen in that eventuality, but you must get the handler. Otherwise he will ruin you.

  The other choice for you is to join me. If you make that decision, keep an eye on the shift patterns.

  Don’t forget that we will die.

  But I think we will be the most lethal suicide bombers ever.’

  Magal signed off with, ‘Your brother.’

  Shiri looked at the sky, something deep welling inside him. He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly.

  He folded the letter carefully and put it back in his pocket.

  At two am, he had finished thinking.

  He burned both letters, buried the ashes in the ground and went to his room.

  He had made his decision.

  He had made peace with himself and Magal.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  IDF Base

  Ten days after Assassinations

  One day to Announcement

  * * *

  Magal arrived at six am. His eyes were red and his face drooped. He looked the picture of exhaustion.

  He wasn’t.

  He had slept in Lipman’s office while the forger worked on the masks, and he was well-rested.

  The base was a hive of activity even that early, and the admin office was jumping with people. The first person he saw was Shiri, who rushed over to him and hugged him.

  There were tears in his friend’s eyes when they separated. He thumped Shiri’s back and was about to speak when Carmel joined them.

  She thrust a coffee mug at him. ‘What happened? Why’s Navon crying? Your mother—’

  ‘She’s still alive. Tomorrow. That’s what doctors say.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be here, Eliel.’

  ‘There’s no other place I would rather be. I thought your shift ended?’

  ‘It is, but I stayed back. Don’t change the subject.’

  She tried to persuade him to go to his mother, but he didn’t budge. She gave up and told him to join the morning shift. ‘That way, you can go to Haifa in the evening if you need to, your conscience clear.’

  The morning shift was precisely what he wanted.

  ‘Can I shower, first?’ he asked her.

  ‘Sure. Navon, go with him.’

  * * *

  ‘You shouldn’t—’ he began in the privacy of his room.

  ‘Stop. Say nothing more. We have grown up together. We have gone on operations together. There isn’t much I would do without you. Even dying.’

  The two men embraced again and got to work, their professional selves taking over.

  ‘You got them?’ Shiri asked.

  Magal held up the masks in reply.

  They were made of a special rubber that allowed the skin underneath to breathe. They covered the entire face, with nose holes and openings for eyes.

  ‘Try yours.’

  Shiri fitted it over his face and looked in the mirror.

  ‘Face me.’

  He turned to Magal, who snapped his picture.

  The two men looked at his image and then at the particular server’s it replicated.

  The faces looked identical.

  ‘Who did this for you?’

  ‘Someone I know in Beersheba. These look good in the pictures. In reality, up close, they will be detected as fake.’

  ‘They will pass a quick check?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Put on yours.’

  Magal tried his. The results were the same. He looked similar to the second server.

  ‘Didn’t the security at the check post ask you about these?’

  ‘I told them it was for a surprise, fancy dress party. I asked them to keep it to themselves. They laughed.’

  ‘They didn’t recognize the faces?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you bring any weapons?’

  ‘No,’ Magal shook his head, removed the rubber and wiped his face. ‘Those would be harder to explain. We will use what we have and take the grenades from the two men.’

  ‘I know you said you feel nothing … I don’t, either,’ Shiri said hesitantly. ‘But I don’t want to kill the other kidon. Not without good reason.’

  ‘We won’t,’ Magal assured him. ‘Unless they cross our paths.’

  * * *

  Seven am

  * * *

  Magal and Shiri returned to the admin office. They went to the coffee stand and bought themselves drinks. Dalia, Nachman, Yakov, Uzziah, Danell and Shiri were on the morning shift. Carmel and Magal were additional members.

  Magal drifted to where Carmel and her partner were chatting with Danell. I like these women. I hope I don’t have to kill them.

  He felt free, knowing what was coming. He no longer had the burden of working out their escape. It was as if a weight had been li
fted off him.

  ‘Eliel,’ Dalia plucked at his sleeve, ‘what do you think? Danell says the ramsad wanted to give us a vacation. That’s why he brought us here. There’s nothing to be done here.’

  ‘I doubt the director knows what a vacation is,’ he replied, drily. ‘Isn’t he here?’

  ‘Yes. He, the ambassador and the Americans are staying in a different building. He will show up.’

  * * *

  Eight am

  * * *

  Zeb came to the admin building. He had set off for an early-morning run, and before he had gone far, two pairs of footsteps had echoed behind him.

  He looked back. The twins.

  The three of them had proceeded silently and, after a light workout, headed back to their rooms.

  Carmel brought him a coffee; Dalia brought two for the sisters.

  ‘You don’t need to serve us,’ he chided her.

  ‘Enjoy,’ she mocked him. ‘You can boast how Mossad was at your service. You won’t get any other opportunity.’

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘Nothing. A few visitors in the night. IDF civilians who are security-cleared. They are in the tech department, working in shifts. They never left their office.’ She waved toward a hallway.

  Alice Monash came in, along with Levin. The ambassador spent a few minutes with them and introduced herself to the kidon she didn’t know.

  At eight-thirty am, the negotiators arrived. They were escorted by six soldiers, who led them to the conference room. Alice Monash followed them, and the door closed behind the two teams and the U.S. ambassador.

  * * *

  Nine am

  * * *

  Magal went to the kitchen and helped himself to a glass of water. He made idle talk with the cook while he observed the servers from the corners of his eyes.

  The men were at the call of the negotiators. They served beverages and soft drinks when needed. The lunch service began at twelve and ended at one pm.

  ‘It’s busiest then,’ the chef said, wiping sweat from his forehead and washing his hands. ‘I have cooked for larger groups, but I have also had more help. Here,’ he turned around in a half-circle, ‘it’s just me and him.’ The assistant waved lazily at Magal.