by David Khara
In the shade of an olive tree, Eli was smoking a cigarillo and amusing himself by watching the flow of clients, suppliers, and employees. These people were going about their daily business, unaware that many of the companies in these buildings were fronts. Behind the doors of the bogus firms, the Kidon conducted its most-secret meetings.
The Mossad organization’s headquarters were in Herzliya, fifteen minutes north of the city center. It was here that intelligence information was gathered, processed, and analyzed. But for obvious reasons of discretion and anonymity, those running Kidon wanted meetings with their operational agents to take place in another location. This office park was a natural choice: secrets were often hidden in plain sight.
A noisy motorcycle pulled into the parking lot, scattering the birds perched in the nearby trees. The biker did a full tour of the lot in search of a free space. No dice. The vehicle and its massive rider headed toward Eli, who could never understand the machine’s appeal. He watched as the giant pulled onto the grass, parked, and flipped down the kickstand. He dismounted and took off his black helmet.
“Parking’s always a bitch at this place,” Eytan said.
“Why do you insist on coming here on that thing?” Eli asked. “You know it’s impossible to find a space.”
“Blame my eternal optimism.”
“You should take the bus, like me. It’s better for the environment, and you don’t have to deal with angry drivers.”
“After five hours on a plane, I was hoping you’d spare me another spiel about saving the planet, Eli.”
“Well someone needs to educate you. If not me, then who?”
“Hey now, I’ve been nice enough to avoid bringing up certain embarrassing moments from your childhood, but I could get mean,” Eytan threatened with a grin.
Eli was used to this gentle sparring with the man who was his father figure and like a son at the same time. How could this unbelievable relationship feel so natural? As a sickly seven-year-old orphan, Eli had been put on an Israel-bound ship in 1953. Fate had thrown him together with the exceptional colossus. A gregarious kid named Frank had met Eytan on the ship, and one thing had led to another. Eytan had wound up in the room below deck with all the orphans and their overworked nurses. Eli would always remember the moment he laid eyes on Eytan. He had grabbed the man’s hand. Eytan had looked down on him, and his face had softened. “So, little Eli, how about we go for a quiet stroll, just the two of us?” Of course, he would go on that stroll. Their bond was forged.
In the years that followed, Eytan was frequently absent. He was off taking care of business, as he put it. But he made sure that Eli had a father’s love and an education at the very best schools. When he was thirteen, old enough to understand, Eytan told him about his past—his deportation as a child, the exceptional physical traits acquired against his will, and his lifelong mission to find, stop, and eliminate war criminals.
Eytan had wanted Eli to have a simple, worry-free upbringing. He had given Eli the life that had been stolen from him. But as the sickly child became healthy and entered adolescence, he made it known that Eytan’s plans for him weren’t his own. He was devoted to his adoptive father, and he wanted to be just like him. After serving in the Israel Defense Forces, Eli joined the Mossad.
For some thirty years, Eli and Eytan scoured the planet together. But as Eytan became even stronger and more effective at his job, Eli succumbed to the effects of aging. Eventually he was forced to face facts and hand in his weapon. And so his fight took another form. He began coordinating the missions of his father-friend-mentor under the assumed title of Mossad’s keeper of the archives.
Eli had found time for a marriage. He and his wife had divorced, but not before having a baby girl. The daughter, Rose, was an adult now and living in Boston. She had recently given birth to a child of her own. Fatherhood had marked a decisive turning point in Eli’s relationship with Eytan. The protected had become the protector.
“Eli,” Eytan said, “we should go in now, or else we’ll be late.”
“You’re right,” Eli replied, relieved to be shaken from his reflection. “It wasn’t too hard to leave your little island in Ireland?”
“Nah, it’s all good,” Eytan said as they headed toward Building No. 5. He shortened his strides so Eli could keep up. “I used my vacation to make some repairs on the house. At this rate, that shanty might be a comfortable place to live someday. You should visit.”
“Any news from your London informant?”
“Still no word. I’m laying the foundation for taking out the Consortium and our little friend Cypher. But Rome wasn’t built in a day. We need to be patient.”
“And God knows you’re good at that,” Eli said as they entered the building.
“Sometimes,” Eytan corrected. “But not always.”
~ ~ ~
Thirty minutes later, the two men were waiting in the lobby of a law office where not a single attorney had ever set foot. Slouched in a chair that was much too low for him, Eytan crossed and uncrossed his legs, trying to get comfortable. He could see Eli watching in amusement. He finally got up and walked over to the window. Eying the cars searching for a parking space was as good a way as any to pass the time. And here he had thought they were going to be late. Finally, a door opened.
“What are you doing here?” Eytan heard Eli ask.
Eytan turned around and wound up face-to-face with Avi Lafner. He was wearing faded jeans, sneakers, and a red-and-white striped rugby polo.
“I was summoned,” the latter replied, He seemed equally surprised.
“You look like you’re going on a picnic in those clothes,” Eytan said.
“And you’ve got a lot of chutzpah to dress like that...”
“Touché.”
“So okay, what are the two of you doing here?”
“We thought we’d be getting a new mission,” Eli said. “Let me see what I can find out.” He left the office.
He came back a few minutes later with a good-looking woman who appeared to be some sort of administrative assistant. Her long legs caught Avi’s eye. But she seemed to have eyes only for Eytan.
“Please follow me,” she said. “You’re expected.”
She led the way, followed by Eli, Avi, and Eytan. Avi hadn’t taken his eyes off the young woman’s shapely calves, and Eytan elbowed him playfully. The woman knocked on the door of a conference room and ushered the men inside.
Eli flinched when he saw who was waiting for them. “This isn’t a meeting,” he whispered.
Avi turned his attention away from their female escort, who was going out the door. “Oh really?” he asked. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but what else could it be?”.
Eytan felt the blood rush to his face. He was furious. “Eli’s right. It isn’t a meeting. It’s a trial.”
Chapter 13
Eytan’s assessment gained traction with each introduction. Three masterminds of Israeli intelligence were sitting side-by-side at a brown melamine table. Their faces were cold and expressionless. Eli recognized two of them from debriefing sessions years earlier. The third man was no small fry. Chief Geopolitical Specialist Simon Attali was in charge of coordinating the intelligence of various clandestine agencies and services. The thirtyish man with dark hair and olive skin had a lean physique and hard-to-read eyes. As an administrator in the shadows, he kept track of intricate networks that gave him intelligence on anything and everything. His knack for staying two steps ahead of the most informed politicians was highly valued. He was powerful and dangerous.
Eli and Avi, glancing warily at Eytan, pulled out chairs at the table. Eytan remained on his feet and leaned nonchalantly against a wall, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes glued to a plasma screen.
“Agent Morg, please take a seat,” Attali insisted.
“I can’t,” Eytan responded. Attali looked taken aback.
“And why is that?”
“Your tiny chairs would collapse under my weight.
”
Avi chuckled, and Attali seemed to lighten up a bit.
“Now that some of us are in a more relaxed mood, let’s begin. So, Karman, do you have anything to tell us?”
“I don’t believe so,” Eli replied. “We haven’t been informed of the purpose of this meeting.”
Attali turned to Eytan. “Morg, does anything come to mind?”
The Kidon agent shrugged. “Ya got me.”
That did the trick.
“Okay, I gave you all a chance,” Attali said.
Eytan heard a click, and a photograph appeared on the plasma screen. He felt a chill run down his spine when he saw the image. It was Eli with his hands tied behind his back and a mask covering his eyes.
“Does this jog your memory?” Attali asked, a smile on his lips.
The room was silent.
“No worries. Let’s continue.”
More clicks, and a series of photographs appeared on the screen. In the first one, four Israeli soldiers were sprawled on a tile floor, drenched in their own blood. In the second image, an unconscious woman with red hair was lying on a gurney.
“Since you have nothing to contribute, and this investigation has already wasted months of our time, I’ll do a quick recap. Shortly before all of this, Eli Karman was scheduled to fly to Boston. He never got there. It seems that he was taken hostage by some unidentified kidnappers. At that same time, Morgenstern was on a mission to return a prisoner—the very same woman who had killed four of our soldiers in front of Dr. Lafner. Then, for unknown reasons, Morgenstern freed this killer with complete disregard for our protocol and without informing the chain of command. But that’s not all,” Attali continued as he removed a document from his briefcase. “According to a confidential message from the Czech Republic, there was a raid on one of its army camps the following day. One soldier was killed, and more than thirty were wounded. I have here the testimony of a survivor who described the incident in detail. She mentions, and I quote, ‘a fully armed titan with a shaved head’ who appeared to be bent on blowing up said camp without giving anyone a chance to escape. Naturally, I immediately thought of...”
Simon Attali stopped and looked at Eytan, who didn’t respond.
“I’ll explain,” Eli intervened.
“Too late,” Attali replied, his voice raised. “You had your chance. It’s over. The fact that you’ve used Mossad resources to conduct a personal vendetta is one thing. But fucking with international relations is completely unacceptable.” Attali pounded his fist on the table. “You can bet your sweet asses there’ll be consequences.”
“Wait, let them at least...” Avi was trying. Attali shot him down.
“Dr. Lafner, this is how you answered my administrative assistant’s call. I loved it so much I had to write it down: ‘You’ve reached the Golda Meir Veterinary Clinic.’ Hilarious! And after examining an IDF soldier, you suggested that he be committed to a psychiatric ward. You also wrote, ‘The patient presents numerous intellectual deficiencies indicating a serious learning disorder. Re-enrollment in a primary-school program is advised. And, he’s a prick.’”
“I remember that jackass,” Avi responded, shooting a glance at Eytan. “He was the worst!”
Eytan grinned at his ally.
“That jackass is a respected general and has the ear of several influential politicians.”
“It’s not my fault you recruit so many whack jobs.”
“That we can agree on, but it’s never too late to fix the mistakes. Karman, we’re ordering you to retire. Lafner, I strongly encourage you to go into private practice, preferably abroad.”
Clearly outraged, Avi and Eli rose from their chairs and started arguing. But the judge remained firm.
“Morg, you’re being transferred to a special operations unit that’s infiltrating Hezbollah.”
“What?” Eli stormed.
“The World War II criminals who are still alive are too old to get out of bed. From here on out, Morg’s talents will be better served on other fronts.”
“May I remind you,” Eli shouted, “that Winston Churchill and David Ben-Gurion personally commissioned Eytan? He is the only Israeli agent who’s allowed to determine his own assignments, and he is permitted to refuse any missions.”
“They agreed to that in secret well more than half a century ago. The world has changed. Agent Morgenstern is a big boy. He can tell us what he thinks himself.”
As everyone looked on, Eytan opened his jacket and carefully removed his gun from its holster. He unloaded the magazine and put the gun on the table.
“So you’ve made your choice,” Attali said, his lips pursed. “I’m suspending your accreditations on the spot, and your employment will end as of today. There are a few papers that you’ll have to sign.”
Attali gave his two colleagues a nod and told them he would join them shortly. Without a word, the two men got up and left the room, closing the door behind them.
“All right then,” Attali said as soon as they were gone. He turned to Eli, Eytan, and Avi. “My associates will relay what has just been said here to the ministry. Now that you three have officially been fired, retired, and asked to leave, we can tackle the terms of your new mission in peace.”
Chapter 14
Simon Attali was an expert in the art of deception, but Eytan was nobody’s fool. The agent had to give Attali his props. The man had thrown him off his game. He suspected that Eli was even more shocked. And Avi, who had so little experience in this sphere, had to be struggling to wrap his head around the elaborate masquerade.
“What is the meaning of this farce?” Eli asked, stepping up as spokesman for the group.
“Sit down, Karman,” Attali ordered. “Lafner, one word from you, even the slightest hint of a joke, and I will make your punishment effective immediately. As for you, Morg, take back your little plaything. You’ll need it.”
Avi mimed zipping his lips. Eli sat down in his chair, and Eytan reclaimed his gun.
“To give you this next assignment, one that chiefly concerns you, Agent Morgenstern, I had to sever your official ties with our agency and, more important, with our government. But let’s start at the beginning.”
Attali turned back to the plasma screen. Eytan, Eli, and Avi followed suit.
“Here we are,” he said as two photographs appeared side by side. “On the left, we have Morg in 1975. This photo was taken by a surveillance camera at Langley Air Force Base during a training program with the Americans. On the right is Morg photographed in Switzerland more recently by a certain...”
“Jacqueline Walls,” Eytan sighed. He threw his head back, closed his eyes, and rubbed his neck.
“Exactly. An anonymous and experienced source passed along some information about a little CIA genius who’d been having fun correlating database photos and ended up stumbling across a few long-forgotten files. It was an innocent search, and bam! The Holy Grail. Can you imagine his surprise when he discovered two photos taken decades apart of a man who looked as young in the second photo as he was in the first?”
“The Americans didn’t know about Eytan?” Avi asked.
“Until now, they’ve thought Eytan Morg was a code name used for several of our agents over the years. At this point they believe he’s a single person.”
“I can see a few reasons for concern,” Eli said.
“The worst-case scenario would be Eytan getting kidnapped by a foreign party and being used as a guinea pig again. I can see by the look on your face, Eytan, that you also see that possibility. You would never let yourself get captured without putting up a good fight, but we don’t want to let that happen. There’s one thing that’s complicating the whole matter, though.”
“Go on,” Eytan ordered. He could feel his muscles tensing.
“According to my source, it’s not the CIA that’s after you. They’re a single link in a complex chain that extends to the highest levels of power. The problem is, I don’t know anything about this chain. It’s up to
you three to identify the links and, if possible, break them.”
Avi cracked a child-like smile and raised his hand.
“Lafner, this isn’t English class,” Attali said. “You can speak when you want.”
“I didn’t want to test my luck. How do you expect me to help? This isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”
“Glad you brought that up,” Attali said. “Our source has told us that the people interested in Eytan are connected to some medical project that the military is spearheading. I’m counting on you, as a physician, to help us find out what the Americans are up to.”
“I have a question too,” Eytan said. “How did you get that account from the Czechs?”
“That’s another puzzling question in this whole affair. What I said earlier wasn’t true. We actually haven’t spent months on this investigation. I simply found a file on my desk with all the information, which leads me to believe that you have upset some powerful people.”
Eli gave Eytan a look that was full of meaning. “Cypher,” he said quietly.
The giant nodded in agreement.
“Put that on the back burner for the time being,” Attali said. “We’ll deal with it, but right now we have to focus on our main goal.”
“What’s first on the agenda?” Eytan asked.
“According to my informant, there are plans in the works to capture Jacqueline Walls and her husband, Jeremy Corbin. It’s supposed to go down within the next seventy-two hours. Those two appear to be our opponents’ primary means of getting at you. Karman, you’ll coordinate everything on site. Lafner, you’ll be our scientific conscience. Agent Morgenstern, do whatever it takes to stop the kidnappers. I believe that’s right up your alley.”
“I have some experience in that department.”
“Keep in mind that your photo has been sent to the US immigration service. You run the risk of being nabbed if you enter the country by plane.”
