by David Khara
With those words, Eytan’s muscles started to tense up, and his heart began to beat so fast, he feared it might fly out of his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He searched frantically inside his jacket and took out the case containing the syringes filled with the serum that kept him alive. His muscles were becoming stiffer by the second. He fell to the ground and felt himself convulsing. With his teeth clenched and his temples dripping with sweat, he struggled to maintain control. In a final effort, he tried to open the small case. No dice.
With his heart reliving the pain he had felt so many times during Bleiberg’s experiments, Eytan closed his eyes, and, just as he had years earlier, he begged for a quick death.
Chapter 45
In the forest, a few moments earlier
Tensions were rising inside the sedan as Avi began his countdown. The crucial moment for setting off the electromagnetic pulse generator was fast approaching. With their eyes closed, the four people in the car were as wired as a team of astronauts preparing for a shuttle launch. Avi had only added to their stress by revealing the possible effects of the weapon. But Jeremy, in fact, had asked for the information.
“We’ve known about EMPs for a long time,” Avi had explained as he took out the big black carrying case and began setting up. “Lightning, for example, is a type of EMP. It’s a burst of electromagnetic activity. Scientists began studying EMPs in earnest in the nineteen forties, when they discovered that they were a side effect of nuclear explosions. The pulses would mess with and even destroy all nearby electrical equipment and electronic devices.”
“The consequences of using EMPs on a highly industrialized country could be catastrophic,” Eli added. “No more means of communication, no more power. And for a very long time too. A collapse of all significant communications and energy systems could lead to chaos and a financial catastrophe. The world’s major power brokers have been developing EMPs in secret for years. Now countries like Iran and North Korea are threatening to use them.”
“We’re about to launch a small atomic explosion? Are you out of your mind?” Jackie exclaimed, terrified.
“No, we’re not nuts,” Avi said. “There are nuclear EMPs and non-nuclear EMPs. The device Frank gave us is the latter type. It would take too long to explain how it works in detail, but basically, it’ll create a pulse that’s strong enough to cover the area where Eytan is located. The soldiers equipped with prosthetics can say good-bye to their fake limbs. The toll on the rest of their bodies will be pretty rough too.”
“And what the hell is a college professor doing with this kind of contraption?” Jeremy asked.
“I also was surprised that Frank had this,” Avi said. “I’m sure the US government is quietly funding research on these things at major colleges across the country—at least the smaller versions. But even the smaller ones can do a lot of damage. That’s why we need to take cover inside the vehicle.”
They slid into the car, which would act as an improvised shield. Once there, they experienced the longest thirty seconds of their lives.
A sharp sound pierced their ears. A deep boom followed, and the car rose from the back to the front as if being carried by an invisible wave.
“Whoa, what was that?” Jeremy yelled, clinging to his seat.
“The shock wave,” Avi replied. “The mere fact that you’ve asked the question means the Faraday cage phenomenon wor...”
Before he could finish his sentence, the helicopter plunged from the sky and crashed.
“It worked,” Jeremy said as his wife silently slipped her hand into his.
“That was crazy,” she gasped, gaping at the wreckage.
“Great,” Eli said. “If everyone’s all right, we’ll move to phase two of the operation. Go!”
They all got out of the Ford. Eli leaned against the hood as he used his riflescope to check on Eytan.
“Come on,” Jeremy said to Avi. “We need to make sure the Audi’s still working.”
“It should be fine, as long as Frank was right about the wave’s range,” the doctor answered.
Sticking with the plan, Jeremy and he dashed through the forest while Jackie, pistol in hand, planted herself beside Eli to protect him in case any intruders showed up.
“So how does it look out there?” Jackie asked as the Israeli veteran scanned the area around his fellow Kidon agent.
“Eytan’s alive,” Eli sighed in relief. “He’s walking toward a man who’s on his knees, probably Bennington. I see a dozen soldiers on the ground.”
“What are they doing?”
“A few are moving. Others are writhing in the grass.”
“What a mess.”
“That’s the nature of the beast. Hold on. Eytan is squatting in front of Bennington. Our little general doesn’t have much longer. Everything’s going perfectly. Now I have to find that sniper, assuming he’s in the area.” Eli widened his surveillance. “I’m sure he’s nearby.”
“In addition to the aerial support, they’ve got land coverage. That’s pretty standard for recon units, right?”
“Right,” Eli said absently, fully focused on locating the last enemy who posed a threat. “Got him. I found Terry!”
“Is he aiming at Eytan?”
“No, he’s moving to a new position. The Huey crash blocked the bastard’s line of fire. Good Lord, he’s running too fast.”
“His file mentioned serious leg injuries. He’s equipped with prosthetics. But I don’t understand why they’re working. He had to be out of range when we used the EMP.”
“Yes, they’re working, dammit,” Eli cursed. “I won’t be able to take him down at that speed.”
“Where’s Eytan? Is he okay?”
Eli pivoted slightly and straightened up. He pulled away from his riflescope for a brief moment and then looked through it again.
“What do you see? What’s going on?” Jackie asked.
“Eytan is on the ground,” Eli said. “The shock wave must have triggered an attack. He wasn’t able to inject his serum.” “How much time does he have?” she asked.
“Ninety seconds, tops.”
“A hundred feet, ninety seconds. Here we go,” Jackie let out as she set off in a sprint.
Eli tried to localize Tim Terry. No success.
“Dammit,” Eli muttered.
Everything had turned on its head. Avi and Jeremy were gone. Jackie was off on a desperate foot race. Eytan was knocking at death’s door. For a second, Eli was at a loss. But only a second. He sprang back and decided to kill two birds with one stone. He’d clear the field for Jackie while attracting the sniper’s attention. The circle formed by the SUVs and Humvee partially obstructed Terry’s line of vision but not enough to provide ample coverage for the Kidon agent.
The Israeli veteran inhaled as deeply as his weakened lungs would allow and mentally ranked his targets in order of importance, excluding General Bennington. Eli couldn’t take aim at him because he was behind Eytan. Game on.
He shot round after round, taking men out left and right. Those who tried to get up were executed first. In the space of seconds, four of them bit the dust, shot cleanly in the head. To eliminate all risk, Eli then took aim at the soldiers lying on the ground. Maybe they had already died from the pulse, or maybe they had just passed out. He couldn’t take the chance. Thanks to the precision and confidence gained from years of training and practice, Eli Karman continued to shed blood.
He spotted Jackie in her full sprint as she approached the zone.
He scoped the area. No sign of Terry. The man had to be crouching somewhere. Taking his speed into consideration, Eli determined the area where the sniper was most likely positioned and began examining each inch of it in order to flush him out.
Not even a car zooming into view from across the field was enough to distract him. Avi and Jeremy were on their way back, pedal to the metal. At least that was good news.
The Audi did a race car-style skid and stopped a few feet from Eli.
“I’ve alw
ays wanted to do that,” Avi shouted as he opened the car door.
“I’d just like the chance to drive the thing,” Jeremy complained. “Where’s Jackie?”
Without taking his eye off the riflescope Eli summed up the turn of events.
“Let’s take the car and get her out of there!” Jeremy responded. His eyes were filled with panic.
“Negative! As long as Sergeant Terry’s still alive, we’re sticking with the plan,” Eli ordered with finality.
~ ~ ~
Some eight hundred feet away, Jackie was pumping her legs and swinging her arms as fast as her little body would allow. Driven by the sole desire to reach Eytan in time and confident of Eli’s ability to protect her from the sniper, she was determined to push herself to the limit while ignoring the blasts going off behind her.
As she approached the circle of vehicles, all she could see were bloody corpses. She rushed to Eytan’s immobile body. Beside him, General Bennington was trying to lift himself up.
For a hot second, Jackie made vague eye contact with him. She pointed the pistol at him and coldly lodged a bullet between the eyes. He fell backward like a bowling pin. The young woman released her weapon and threw herself beside Eytan. He was wearing a serene expression that she had never seen on his face before.
This was no time for serenity. She grabbed the case that held the syringes and yanked it open. She took out a dose and pushed up the sleeve of Eytan’s jacket. A shiver ran through her as she felt his icy skin, and her heart sank when she saw all the puncture wounds on his arm. No time for feelings, either. She set her eyes on the biggest vein, which ran through the 302 inscribed in black ink, and jabbed him with the needle.
Jackie injected the entire dose of green fluid just as another bang went off. She felt a burning sensation in her leg. She looked at her thigh. Her jeans were covered with blood. It was too soon to tell, but she thought it was just a flesh wound. It was stinging, but not really hurting.
Fearing that she would be shot again, she grabbed Eytan by the shoulders and used all her strength to roll him over. Thank God the Humvee was at least partially shielding them.
~ ~ ~
“Target detected. Terry at three o’clock!” Eli shouted as he pivoted to his right.
Through his scope he could see Terry, along with his rifle and tripod. The weapon was pointed directly at Jackie and Eytan.
“Who’s he shooting at?” Jeremy yelled hysterically.
“At Jackie, but he didn’t get her,” Eli lied. “I’m not going to miss, though.”
He pulled the trigger twice.
“Did you get him?” Avi asked.
“I’m not sure. All I can see is the tip of his gun.”
Eli paused. His opponent’s tripod was rotating slowly. It was now pointing in the Israeli veteran’s direction.
~ ~ ~
Behind the improvised shelter, Jackie squeezed her fingers around the butt of her gun, fully expecting to take a second bullet at any moment. There was still no sign of life in Eytan’s pale face. She put a hand on his smooth skull. It was burning hot. She almost jumped when the giant opened his eyes.
“You scared me half to death,” Jackie said, sighing in relief.
He didn’t seem to be listening as he tried to sit up.
“What happened?” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“Eli killed all the soldiers, and when we saw that you were down, I came to help, as planned. I took Bennington out while I was at it.”
“How bad is it?” he asked, pointing to Jackie’s bloody jeans.
“It’s superficial. Terry shot at me once, then stopped.”
“That means he’s decided to go after Eli. Shit! Eli doesn’t have what it takes to go head-to-head. Stay covered. I’m on it.”
“Wait, do you think you’re in any condition to...”
Eytan leaped to his feet with cat-like agility and grabbed an assault rifle. He scrambled to the Humvee and jumped on top of it. Taking advantage of a clear view, he turned toward the spot where Eli was positioned to determine his friend’s line of sight. He shouldered his weapon and spun around. He spotted Tim Terry with an eye glued to his scope and his finger on the trigger. After taking a second to adjust, he pulled. Two simultaneous shots went off.
Chapter 46
A suburb of Rio de Janeiro, February 1953
From improvised bleachers made of cinder blocks and wooden planks, kids cheered as their favorite players fought their hearts out. The sun in the clear-blue sky was beating down on both teams and the hundred or so spectators. The soccer match had pinned two neighborhoods against each other. The green jerseys were beating the reds by a single goal with only a few seconds left. The heat, combined with the crowd’s enthusiasm, had brought the energy level to a boiling point. Maybe this was just a neighborhood game, but in Brazil, soccer was the national religion.
The final whistle sounded. The victorious team members leaped and hugged. The players on the other side straggled off the field. The kids waited nearby, hoping to get in a word or two with their favorite players.
Eytan watched the scene run its course. This was his first time in Brazil. Despite the vivid colors of the houses and the lush vegetation, what he saw all around him was the poverty.
And what he had felt since arriving the previous night was the heat. He was doing his best to stay in the shade, but that didn’t help much. He was exuding sweat from every pore in his skin.
Two young women, walking casually hand-in-hand, flashed the giant flirty eyes as they passed him. Entertained by their coquettish ways, he simply smiled back. Over the course of the last few years and numerous work-related trips, he had picked up on his effect on women. His teacher and mentor, Stefan Starlin, never missed a chance to tease him over his distant attitude toward the female species.
“If I were tall like you, I’d be heating up bedrooms all over the world,” Stefan sometimes told him.
“You mean there are some bedrooms you still haven’t set ablaze?” Eytan would reply. It wasn’t flattery. The man had quite a reputation with the ladies.
The giant grinned as he remembered the man who had watched over him for almost a decade.
He turned his attention to the winning team’s coach. He was Eytan’s sole reason for visiting the country. Of average height and in his fifties, the man with graying hair was wearing light-colored cotton trousers and a white shirt. He was congratulating his players with his left hand. His right arm was dangling by his side.
~ ~ ~
The loose gravel in the courtyard crunched under the tires of the black convertible driven by Karl-Heinz Dietz. The man got out of his flashy new car and shut the green entry gate. He paused at the front steps of his opulent-looking abode in the high hills of Rio de Janeiro. He had been living a beautiful life here for more than five years and had never tired of it.
He had bought this land for next to nothing as soon as he was absolutely certain of the Reich’s downfall. For another ridiculously low sum, he had built his two-story provincial home amid the lush vegetation. A jungle of exotic plants kissed the ocher walls. Wild orchids grew from tropical trees whose broad branches stretched above the tile roof. But the home and its location weren’t what he prized most. His true treasures were Juliana, his wife, and Milene, his daughter. They were the only people who mattered to the man who was now going by the name Carlos Diaz.
Karl-Heinz entered his house and placed the soccer ball, which he had been carrying under his good arm, on the tile floor. He headed into the dim living room, where shutters on the windows filtered out the sunlight. He called for his wife and daughter but got no response. He switched on the ceiling fan and opened a cabinet door in search of a glass.
“There’s already a whiskey awaiting you on the coffee table, Colonel Dietz.”
Karl-Heinz jumped. He hadn’t heard a word of German in ten years. And no one in Brazil was aware of his past, not to mention his standing in the SS. He turned around slowly to peer into the sitting area where
the mysterious voice was coming from. He could make out a massive silhouette that was taking up practically all of the green loveseat.
“Come sit down. It’s your home, after all,” the stranger said. “I took the liberty of pouring myself a drink too. I’d feel bad making you drink alone.”
“Who are you?” Karl-Heinz asked, regaining some of his composure.
He closed the cabinet door and walked toward a high-back chair that faced his visitor.
“I’m the sum of all your victims.”
The stranger leaned forward to let Karl-Heinz see his face.
“Morgenstern?”
“Let’s toast, Colonel!” Eytan replied as he picked up one of the glasses. “Let’s toast like two old combatants who’ve survived the horrors of war.”
Karl-Heinz sat down and picked up his own drink. He clinked his glass against Eytan’s.
“You’ve become a man,” Karl-Heinz remarked. “More than a man. And yet I can still see your childish features. So tell me. What have you been up to all these years?”
“After our encounter, I left for England with Stefan Starlin.”
“Who’s that?”
“He’s the Brit who snatched me from your claws when you attacked our camp. He also happens to be the man who gave me this spiffy ensemble.”
Eytan showed off the cargo jacket he was wearing.
“Starlin had it on him when he made me part of the SOE. It’s important to him, so it’s important to me. Anyhow, with some help from the Polish resistance, he got me to London. Then he brought me into the MI6, where I have autonomous-agent status. The intelligence agency provides me with files on war criminals. I study them. I choose my targets. And I go after them. Some have to be put on trial. Others...”
“I see. Can you believe the irony?”
“It’ll be even more ironic by the end of the year. The British want to disband their cleanup brigade. So I’m getting transferred to Mossad, where I’ll enjoy logistical advantages while keeping my autonomy.”
“A Jew-turned-Aryan will be working on behalf of a Jewish state to hunt the very war criminals who created him. The Nazi regime perfectly embodied all that is absurd in this world. So you ended up a hunter just like me. Have you taken many of them down?”
