by Dana Arama
"Okay, then, thief in law," Rafi said impatiently. He didn’t like being interrupted, but Leon calmly continued: "A thief in law heads up a group of criminals, who chose him. He belongs to them and they belong to him. Under their domestic law, they have to leave their family ties of blood and marriage and stick to their teammates. The very fact that she was able to get him to violate such a law points to her incredible charisma on the one hand, and on the other raises the suspicion that, in fact, she was the thief in law of this group, the real leader.” He let out a dry cough and sipped a glass of water.
"You have to understand the background to the election of thief in law: he was chosen by other criminals because he managed to overcome them all and take care of his people in the jungle, called the gulag. You’d describe these places as hell on Earth. But it's not the only Russian hell. Even the KGB train with torture. In the mid-eighties, the KGB started to recruit criminals to its ranks, and at the same time, intelligence officials have taken up the crime. She settled, amazingly, in both worlds.”
I’d just stopped thinking about the Russian mafia and what do you know, it comes back to me through the back door. Months after I left Gabi, I gave thanks for all the days my parents were not injured, and how my brother and his family remained intact, Hadas wasn’t raped, and that I was still alive. For months, I worried about Gabi, who went off to Europe. I continually checked Google for news about her. I never stopped looking over my shoulder every time I walked to university, and I always stopped to listen before I entered the apartment. It was a habit I kept up. The course I went through in the Mossad only made me more paranoid. Now, I was more careful when I passed women with strollers and elderly people with canes. They each became a potential attacker to me.
“She doesn’t keep select company," Rafi continued. "She’s in touch with neo-Nazi groups, Al Qaeda, anti-Israel students. We know that she was involved in smuggling nuclear materials from the Soviet Union. At the same time, she tends to connect with people with money - a lot of money. The combination of all of this means she’s bad news for us.”
The room went silent. Only the soft hum of the computer that projected real photos of her on the wall could be heard. In these real images, her face wasn’t visible. It just demonstrated even more how professional she was. In between them, the software slipped in the computerized images. They were our chance to identify her in real time.
“By the way, the software put together this composite sketch -" the cunning simulation stopped on a face I knew, “- that we put together with Guy’s help. He’s the only one who knows her well."
The looks of appreciation I drew were accompanied by suggestive smiles that suggested something lewd. I smiled. "Calm down guys. I’m not that familiar with her." I sat in my seat and I ran my hands over my head. I hadn’t yet gotten used to this longer, orderly mane, but I figured it’d come with time. The long hair contributed to my European appearance and, therefore, helped me blend into the country of my destination, where I was assigned to carry out my new role: to find and stop Alexandra Bogdanova, also known as Natalia Vlotzky, the wife of the man I killed with my own hands.
***
I received the encrypted SMS message when I was sitting in a taxi. I stifled a smile that began to spread across my face. It meant that, this evening, I was to report in a new form to a new place. Not that I’ve anything against yamakas, I just had a lot of feelings for France. Although I wanted Paris and I got Toulouse, France is France. I knew that notice of a deceased uncle in Israel had been waiting for me in the office of the principal of the school where I was working as a substitute teacher. There was no point in disappearing at once. The cooperation of the Jewish community with Israeli Mossad happened with or without their knowledge. This time, it was without. We knew that schools were on the line. I suspected that Natalia was involved. We wanted to grab her as quickly as possible.
Half an hour later, I received an additional message. An attack had occurred. Four killed, including children. I left school. I went back to the apartment that served as my home and I packed a suitcase. The third SMS came in when I was at the train station. I took the ticket in my hand, went to the cashier and I converted it to a new card, to Paris.
Meanwhile, Natalia continued to party. It was up to the Mossad to break up her party permanently, before any more innocents got hurt.
part 8 - Gabriella 2012
Chapter 27
I was alone again. Cream-colored drapes suited the walls of my Paris apartment well, completing the look I wanted: soft, solid, but feminine. It required a very high ceiling and extra-long curtains, and these took a little more time to prepare, but I waited patiently. I am way too private a person to live in a house with huge windows that face the street uncovered.
"They’re finally up?" asked Pierre, who was on the other end of the line. "I’m happy for you, my love. You sound more relaxed."
"I am. It’s beginning to feel like home.”
"It's not just a building. It’s the people who love you. Even here, with me, you have a home.”
"I know, Pierre. And you’ll never know how much I appreciate this love of yours… your unlimited generosity -”
"I hear a ‘but’ in your voice.”
“- But I have to overcome this alone, come to you clean, as it used to be. You deserve no less.”
"I can never help you overcome your son's death. I can do my best to help you overcome your lack of a partner. By that, I mean your husband and also the young man that was with you.”
"I know. I'm moving along in stages. My happy moments are longer, as my acceptance is growing.”
"And Paris will give you moments of excitement and forgetting. I’m very glad you’re here, and I promise to be available to you at any time.”
"Like a beloved friend does. Thank you, Pierre. We'll talk in the evening.”
I hung up. I took my handbag and went, like a true Parisian, to the café across the street. During the renovations, I had gotten to know it well. I already had a favorite table. The weatherman promised a warm day today and at this hour, I already knew warm rays of sunshine would descend from blue skies.
***
Something hid the sun from me. I opened my eyes.
"Gabriella, what are you doing here?"
"Natalia!" As always, when I thought of her, my face flushed with shame. The memory of my suspicion weighed on our continued relationship. "Come join me."
I had elegantly avoided her for a long time, but she continued to leave me messages on various occasions, especially during the holidays. Last year, I found the courage to call her from Paris, but the call led me to voice mail. I left a message.
"With great joy, but only for a moment. You’ve no idea how much I’ve thought of you."
"Me too. You received my good wishes for Rosh Hashanah?"
"Sure. We were in the Caribbean."
"In September? It’s hurricane season there."
"We took a risk. My son started taking diving lessons and my husband decided that it’s a wonderful place to dive."
"Your husband’s right. Where did you stay?"
"Martinique. We love the marina there. We rented a yacht for the entire period.”
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." I tried sincerely to feel happy for her. I knew I would no longer have any family vacations. "These are experiences for life."
"You're absolutely right. You know, it was only recently that I found out the story of your family. I found it really shocking." She put her hand gently on mine. "I want you to know that whenever you want to have family around you, you’re welcome to do it with us."
I appreciated her honesty and the simplicity of the way she addressed the issue. I also appreciated the fact that she chose not to stay away from me like I had the plague, as did my friends with their ‘perfect’ families, as if my bad luck would stick to them, too.
"That's why I'm here. The change of atmosphere."
"There’s no more pleasant place than Paris in the spring!" s
he exclaimed. "I think this is the nicest time of year. By the way, you look great. Something’s changed in you.”
"I'm much more relaxed here.”
"What are you doing these days?”
"Just today, I completed the renovations on my new apartment.”
"How did you find an apartment here?”
"With great difficulty. It was also outrageously expensive!”
"You moved for good? You left the house in Savion?”
"It isn’t sold yet, but I’m certainly ready to get rid of it. It’s full of negative memories.”
"Starting afresh is wonderful. Good for you. How are you getting on?”
"Just like every fresh start." I smiled. I had a new apartment, millions in the bank, and another handful of diamonds tucked away in Hong Kong. This spring was definitely a good time for new beginnings.
A ringing cell phone interrupted our conversation. She answered quickly and slid from French to Russian without any problems.
"We have to keep in touch," she said before she left, "especially now, when I'm around in the coming days." I really wanted to ask her what she was doing here, but she was quick to go.
I hugged her. "Tomorrow afternoon, here in the coffee shop? We’ll catch up. You can tell me what’s going on with you, too."
"I’ve a better idea. How about dinner – boozy and tasty?" She laughed. "Champagne and caviar on me – we’ll celebrate your new apartment! I'm sure it’s amazing."
"Great!" I was thrilled. I had my first guest. "Tomorrow at seven. Meet me there,” I added, pointing to the building opposite. "I’m on the top floor."
part 9 - Guy 2012
Chapter 28
Alex and I were sitting in a prestigious district of Paris in an apartment serving as an observation point. On the streets below us, prowled Itay on a motorcycle that was fitted with an elaborate detection device. We three were in search of two phone numbers, but both with more hope than certainty. We were fumbling about in the dark, blind. Anything was possible. She probably used other lines. It was possible she transferred the ones we knew to a third person. We knew that once one of them was used as Alexandra Bogdanova and the second was used by Natalia Vlotzky. Yesterday, our headquarters in Tel Aviv was able to locate one of them in this area. We’d hoped that she’d return here today. It was a desperate move.
I knew Itay was cursing now. Every fifty yards, he stopped, pulled out the computer and turned on the detection software. It was irritating and tedious work, but it was our only hope, until we got new information. There was no news from him yet.
"Listen," I said to Alex. "I have an idea. Remember Gabriella Korman, who was involved with Natalia's mobster husband? They were friends. It’s possible they’re still in touch." I paused for a quick breath, feeling slightly hesitant about my idea. “Let’s try and track her. We’ll go over Gabi’s phone records and cross-check. I know it’s like throwing everything up in the air and hoping to find an answer, but we don’t have much to do anyways.” I decided not to share with him my concern that if Natalia knew about the diamonds, she’d keep after them and put Gabi in danger. That card, I was keeping very close to my chest.
Alex looked at me with a smile. "If she’s 'Gabi' to you, why not just call her and ask?"
I ignored his hint. "We’re in the middle of an operation," I said reproachfully.
"You have a private phone and excellent coverage. She’s an Israeli citizen above suspicion. We’d have to get approval for phone records.”
I looked at him a moment and pulled my phone out. I installed the battery and dialed.
"Wow, what a pleasant surprise!" she said.
"Hey Gabi. What's up? I'm in Paris and I couldn’t help but think of you." I was stretching things out for the sake of gaining operational data. I hadn’t paused to think about her feelings or my own since the day we broke up.
"That’s wonderful to hear… that you’re near me and thinking of me. I didn’t know that you’re in Paris. Are you alone in Paris?”
"No. I'm here with friends." I suddenly remembered her conversation with Pierre. "You moved here?"
“Yes. A few months ago. I’ve finally found an apartment I like and the renovations were completed yesterday.”
"You sound happy. I'm pleased for you.”
"Is there a chance that your friends will let you off for a night and you could come over?”
"How are you fixed tonight?" In the name of the operation, I could break my promise to Hadas that I wouldn’t meet Gabi again.
"Tonight, I can’t. I made plans with Natalia for champagne and caviar get to together to celebrate the completion of my renovations.”
I froze. "Natalia Vlotzky, Sergey’s wife?"
She laughed. "No way… I thought we were done with these allegations. She was never Sergey's wife. Her name isn’t Natalia Vlotzky. She’s married to a Russian businessman and is the mother of two sons. Her real name is Natalia Bogdanova.”
My blood froze. I wanted to shout at her, “You stupid woman, don’t bring Natalia home! It’s a trap!” I wanted to give her all the information I had on that woman, but it wasn’t an option. "What time did you make plans for? Maybe I'll come over later?"
"Great. She’ll be with me around seven. I guess by ten, maybe eleven, she’ll be ready to go."
"Good. I'll come at ten.” Alex raised his head and looked at me in surprise. I must have sounded too enthusiastic. I wrote down the address on a piece of paper. She lived a half-block from our hiding place.
"Good. I've missed you."
I said nothing. I was about to break a promise to my future wife for something much bigger, but I knew it was just an excuse. "Me, too. See you soon."
"So?" Alex was amused. "I understand that it’s difficult to ask for a phone number. It’s easier to penetrate the target, to break into the phone."
"Alex, it’s easier to just wait for Natalia.”
His eyes widened. “What are you saying, Guy?”
“She’s meeting Gabi at seven tonight. I looked at my watch. It was five-twenty. "I have an exact address. Headquarters in Tel Aviv should be able to provide us with a list of her neighbors. We can’t afford a repeat of the Zurich blunder.” I still cringed at the anti-Israeli propaganda that had caused, especially from US citizens, who were perpetually misinformed as to what it was like to be an Israeli, and to face what we always had to face.
Alex grinned. "You have more luck than brains, Guy. You must notify Itay that he should be located nearby."
“Will do,” I replied. “We can use an extra man too.”
***
Information from headquarters did not make life easier. On the contrary, from what we learned, even one stray shot might provoke an international incident. A Swiss representative for agriculture in France lived on the first floor. The second floor belonged to one of the princes of the UAE. The third floor was shared by a Russian expert, a French press expert and an anonymous French person. The fourth floor housed a Russian diplomat, whose official position was managing trade relations between France and Russia, and a Russian-born physician, a US citizen, who coordinated the volunteers for the Russian organization, Doctors Without Borders.
The entire fifth floor was recently bought by an Israeli, Mrs. Gabriella Korman.
We had no way of knowing if Natalia was already in the building or not. I knew with confidence that Gabriella was in real danger, however. Alone with Gabriella, nothing could stop Natalia. We examined the main entrance, and the front and rear. Both were covered by security cameras.
Frequency reports from Itay changed every fifteen minutes. Satellite pictures of the roof of the building were spread out on the table between us. Alex and I both pored over it and tried to understand what we saw. The roof was full of a mixture of old and new. Satellite dishes, cellular antennas, and chimneys of different heights, leftovers from the days the building was part of a palace. I hoped it wasn’t armed with weight sensors, but given the tenants, there was little chance of that. The
top floor had an iron railing around it, which left about four inches between the windows. My best chance came from this direction.
"Her bathroom window will be open."
"I really hope you know her very well," Alex muttered. He turned to the radio and called Itay. "See if you can catch some pictures that focus on the rail of the top floor. Look for an open window."
Within two minutes, our screen flooded with images of decorative railing around the decorated windows. "She has good taste, your girlfriend."
"Not girlfriend. Boss."
"I've never been in my boss’ bathroom."
"Behold, I told you: an open window." I ignored his words. "I can surf from the building next door straight there. I use the chimney, jump on this gable, and climb into the window above."
"It’s not easy, but not impossible.” I heard the hesitation in his voice. "The problem is that if you miss or slide, you end up in someone else’s home."
At six-thirty, I was located on the roof of the building next door. Outside, the temperature had dropped to five degrees Celsius and the wind was blowing at variable speeds.
"I'm afraid the wind will blow you off course," I heard Alex calling in my earpiece. He had stayed at the command center in the apartment. Itay and Jean, who was called at the last minute to join the team, waited near the entrance to the building. We’d rather catch her when she was out of the building and avoid having to enter the apartment. We agreed that we’d wait for her till seven-fifteen.
"It is already seven-ten," I said into the earpiece. "Maybe I should call her?" I didn’t know if she still remembered the training, but I was sure she wouldn’t be able to deal with Natalia alone.
"That’s crap. Stick to the plan. You know that if Natalia’s with her already, and if she suspects anything, it would be a death sentence for Gabi."
