Hatchet

by Israel Levy

  “May I remind you, these Zionists, may they rot in hell, are well trained and will react and return our fire with great speed. So we must launch our grenades quickly and immediately open fire. Aisha and I will take out the guards first. After three minutes, drop your weapons and begin running as if you’re part of the crowd under attack. We’ll use the chaos to sneak out down the stairs, through the luggage conveyor and out to the front of the airport.

  “There we will get into the getaway cars and drive back to the hotel. We’ll meet here and wait till eight in the evening. Then we’ll call Musa, report to him in real time, return to the airport and fly to Baghdad as innocent passengers. Now, pay close attention, we must do everything in our power, and I do mean everything, to avoid shooting and killing Italian policemen. We do not want to spoil the good relations we have with the Italian government.”

  Naomi and the rest of the Hatchet team watched and listened intently to every word, noticing the change at the end of the plan. A feverish excitation raged through her at the cold and calculated description of the terror attack. Nerves (“Or is it fear?”) crept into her belly. The terror squad leader fell to his knees and the rest followed his lead (“If I’m not mistaken they’re kneeling towards Mecca”).

  “To the revolution, to Palestine, to freedom, death to the Zionists.”

  “To the revolution,” they all repeated in Arabic, “to Palestine, to freedom, death to the Zionists.”

  They rose to their feet, embracing each other.

  “Allah Maak, God be with you,” they blessed one another.

  They turned to the door and left the room at one minute intervals. Aisha was left alone, her nerves visible across her face. She sat in the armchair and fell asleep.

  The phone in Naomi’s room rang. It was Abraham, telling her to go straight up to Keren’s room.

  “Come in and take a seat.”

  The entire team was there, and with them Gideon and Abraham.

  “We have our action scenario prepared.” Abraham nodded and Aaron reached into a suitcase and pulled out a device which Naomi recognized as a wiretapping obstructer he had shown them during one of his lectures. He turned it on.

  Abraham assigned each team member their role (“God, this looks just like what we witnessed the terrorist squad doing a minute ago”). Naomi’s position was to be opposite Aisha’s, in the ladies’ room.

  “First of all, everyone sprays this on their hands,” Abraham handed out little canisters. “This spray creates an extremely thin film on your hands. It cannot be seen or felt in any way but actually works like a glove that will ensure you don’t leave any fingerprints behind.

  “Naomi, you confront Aisha once she retrieves her weapon. Take her out before she goes upstairs and fires a single shot. You’ll use a silencer so as not to alert the others. Once they’re all out, do a dead check, dump you weapons and join the passengers. You all have boarding passes and the bureaucracy has been taken care of. Our local guys here will dispose of all traces in the hotel, the cars and everything else.”

  The atmosphere in the room was so tense you could cut it with a knife. Abraham went to the bathroom and asked Naomi to follow him.

  “Despite the order you have just been given, you must make every attempt to take Aisha prisoner. She’s a weak link and we can likely get the information we’re missing about the Libyan basecamp from her. You have all the documentation needed here: a passport, the flight ticket and a boarding pass. Also, take this with you.”

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s an extra potent tranquilizer. She’ll look groggy but will be able to walk on her own,” he handed her the passport and boarding pass. “These are under the name of Tamara Mualem, with an up-to-date photo. You’ll join the other passengers and board the El Al flight with her but, if you can’t, take her out.”

  He noticed how pale Naomi’s face had turned. “I have the utmost confidence in you. I know you can handle this job.”

  Naomi’s heart beat at a frenetic pace in her chest. She was so nervous she could feel the adrenaline pumping to her temples matching the rhythm of her heart. They joined the others back in the room.

  “Everyone here, except Ziv and Yaniv, is experiencing the rush of adrenaline one feels before going on a mission for the first time. It’s completely natural. Go with it. Embrace your fear, make it a motivating force and it will help sharpen your senses for the mission. I wish us all luck. Everyone leaves the hotel following the terrorist they’ve been assigned to tail.”

  They left the room one by one, dispersing onto the different hotel floors, all faces somber and tense.

  Naomi was startled awake one minute before the radio transmitter buzzed. She put her earpiece in place.

  “Hatchet Two, switching to image.”

  Camera 1, the room was empty, her heart skipped a beat. She switched to Camera 2 and saw Aisha standing at the bathroom sink, staring at herself in the mirror (“She’s looking a little pale”). Aisha brushed her teeth, took off her clothes and stepped in the shower.

  (“Excellent time for a shower”) Naomi too stepped in the shower. She took off her radio kit and hung it in such a way that she could still see what was going on in Aisha’s room. Aisha stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom and Naomi hurried to do the same. She wrapped a towel around herself and switched to Camera 1 to continue monitoring what Aisha was doing. She took the clothes she planned to wear from the closet as Aisha pulled a shirt and trousers from her suitcase and began dressing. Naomi returned to the bathroom to put on her makeup in front of the mirror, with the radio kit by her side, and saw Aisha on the monitor in her bathroom, putting on makeup and combing her hair.

  When she was ready, Naomi returned to the room, collected all her clothes and scanned the room quickly to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She saw Aisha in the monitor doing the exact same thing, then heading for the door. She left her room.

  Naomi grabbed her bag, checked her pistol, choosing not to attach the silencer just yet as it was long and uncomfortable. Instead she placed it in her coat pocket.

  The silver car was waiting in the parking lot. Keren was already sitting in her car. It was nine a.m. when they arrived at the airport and Naomi’s stomach grumbled (“I didn’t even have coffee, not to mention a little pastry”). She saw Aisha at the exact position they had mentioned in the briefing. She checked in at the British Airways counter and turned to passport control and Naomi followed her like a shadow. She already had a boarding pass which meant she could move right through to security before passport control. She sensed an El Al security guard close to her. He nodded and the metal detector was switched off just for a second to let her go through. She went through passport control and into the duty free area.

  “El Al passengers on flight 386 to Tel Aviv are requested to proceed to Gate 11.”

  Naomi felt her nervousness turn into a heightened alertness. Her mind was clear and sharp. Aisha moved towards the El Al passengers’ sterile zone. The sign for the ladies’ room was directly across from the large window separating the passengers from the rest of the space. Naomi spotted Faris standing next to the duty-free carts and Keren on the other side of the corridor, peering at him over an Italian newspaper she was holding. Faris looked up and made the tiniest nod in Aisha’s direction.

  Aisha turned to the escalator going down in the direction of the ladies’ room, with Naomi at her heels. Aisha went into one of the stalls and Naomi screwed the silencer onto her gun locking the door to the bathroom behind her. The stall door opened and Aisha emerged, holding a grenade in one hand and the AK-47 with folding stock in the other. Naomi was waiting for her behind the stall door with her gun ready at hand. The second Aisha passed by Naomi gave a strong kick to her hand, sending the grenades, safety pins still on, rolling across the floor. Aisha was taken by surprise but reacted with impressive speed, sending a high swerving kick at Naomi
’s head but hitting her shoulder instead, driving her to the ground. Naomi was taken aback by the force of the blow. She rolled on the floor, protecting her gun. Aisha persisted, smacking her with the gun’s stock. Naomi ducked down and kicked Aisha in the knee with all her strength.

  They were both silent the whole time, neither one of them wishing to be heard by anyone outside the bathroom. The kick to the knee caused Aisha to fall, dropping the AK-47. Naomi kicked it away from Aisha’s reach, but Aisha reached for her belt, took out a knife and threw it at Naomi. Naomi moved to the right but the knife cut her left hand. Then Naomi raised her pistol and aimed it Aisha’s head. Aisha froze in place.

  “Aisha,” said Naomi. Aisha was clearly surprised to hear her speak her name.

  Do you really want your mother to lose you too? She’ll never get over it.” Naomi spoke to her in Hebrew and Aisha looked completely shocked. Her mind clearly racing with a thousand different thoughts. She tried to get up and punch Naomi, but Naomi moved quickly, stopping her punch and throwing Aisha back to the ground.

  “Your beloved Musa won’t forgive you either.” These last few words made Aisha crumple to the floor. She broke down in bitter tears, tears of frustration, of pain, of fear. She smacked her fists against the floor and Naomi moved closer, holding the silencer to her temple. She restrained Aisha’s wrists with plastic cable ties.

  “Hatchet Two. She’s alive, I’ve got her!” she practically yelled into her radio kit. Then she opened the door and ran up the stairs, putting on her yellow cap. She heard a gunshot, looked up and saw Keren in a firing position and Faris lying lifeless on the ground. The Hatchet team stuck out conspicuously with their yellow hats. The El Al security guards also had their guns out and their yellow hats on. Hysterical screams came from every direction. She saw policemen and Carabinieri officers running to the scene from the far end of the hall, their weapons drawn. Naomi sped back down to the restroom, reached into her pocket for the syringe and stuck it in Aisha’s right shoulder before she could resist. The effect was instantaneous. Aisha became apathetic and groggy, and Naomi removed the cable ties from her wrists.

  “Your name is Tamara, you hear me? Your name is Tamara. Don’t say a word, if you want to live. All you friends are gone.”

  Aisha nodded her understanding with utter apathy. Naomi washed and wiped Aisha’s face. She forgot about the spray glove and picked up the weapons, wiped them clean of any fingerprints, and tossed them to the floor of the stall. She grabbed Aisha, holding her around the shoulders, and quickly went up the stairs, blending into the other El Al passengers. She pushed her way to the stairs going down to the bus which would take them to the plane and did not look around to see if the other team members were in the crowd. The flight attendant checked her boarding pass and pointed to the seats closest to the door. Naomi noticed that they were seated right next to the airplane’s undercover security guard.

  Naomi was ravenous and accepted the food tray offered to her by the flight attendant. When the plane was in the air, over the sea, facing east, Naomi noticed her hands beginning to shake. She couldn’t make them stop and had to cover them under a blanket that she threw over Aisha and herself. Aisha was asleep the whole time, crying to herself quietly.

  The wheels touched the ground at Ben Gurion airport. A minibus approached the plane to transfer the passengers to the terminal. Gideon was by the bus door, dressed as an airplane mechanic. The other team members boarded the bus one by one. A young man and woman dressed in jeans and t-shirts took Aisha from Naomi’s hands and led her to a private car that was parked nearby.

  The street lights blinked on a if to welcome them home. The driver turned on the radio to catch the news on the hour.

  “This just in: at Fiumicino airport in Rome, El Al passengers were unharmed as Italian security thwarted an attempted terrorist attack. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs has congratulated the Italian forces for a daring and professional action.”

  “So, how was the B&B?” Shuli greeted her.

  She paused for a minute before coming to her senses. “Rest, rest, rest. A good book - a thriller - good food, and that’s it. Now I’m refreshed and ready to go back to work (“If only that were true, I could really use a good rest right now”).

  Shuli said she was being discharged from the hospital the following day.

  Seeing Yael at the office was truly a delight.

  “Oh, look who it is. Good to have you back.”

  She called in the case team. The past few days had all but erased the first court hearing from her mind. It was scheduled for the following day. She needed to be fully prepared to face the judge as co-counsel to Rami.

  Passing by the Victoria on her way home, she saw that neon lights were shining once again and people gathered on the sidewalk. She rolled down her window and caught a few notes of the music playing inside.

  Everything was as it had been before the attack, no traces of the screams of the wounded or the silence of the dead. Her heart swelled with pride for her part in thwarting the Rome attack. (“My god, I was one of those who saved so many lives. I wonder if those people realize how lucky they are to be with their families today”). What an incredible feeling.

  She knew her fridge at home was completely empty, so she dropped by a kiosk to grab a sandwich, soda and newspaper. She was so happy to be back in her apartment. She threw her bag on the living room sofa and let her clothes fall to the floor on her way to the shower. The warm water washed away what had been the most exciting drama she had ever experienced. She checked her computer. The main headline on the news announced peace talks with the heads of the Fatah. She noticed a few emails from Moshe but couldn’t muster the energy to read them (“It can wait till tomorrow, I’m just too tired”). She smiled as her head touched the fluffy pillow and was fast asleep within seconds. She hadn’t even touched the sandwich.

  Chapter 6

  A crowd of people waited outside the court holding signs that read ‘Punish the families’, ‘Stop the terror, stop the occupation’, ‘Education to hatred breeds murderers’, ‘Who’s going to bring back our children?’. She made her way to the court entrance, smiled at the familiar faces of the guards and entered the hall. As always a sense of awe came over her as she entered the grand edifice, with its impressive columns and marble floors. Many people were already inside, lawyers in black robes, representatives from the organization for the victims of terror, Knesset members from right and left on the political spectrum, reporters and curious observers. She deftly avoided the cameras and found Rami and Michal next to a trolley packed with legal files.

  “You can talk to Adv. Rami Barlev, who is leading the case,” she told the nettlesome reporters.

  Rami was pleased to give interviews and saw it a sign of respect. “Thanks for giving me the credit,” he said to her.

  The hearing took no more than two hours (“I didn’t expect it to take longer than that”) and as they walked back out she again sent Rami and Michal to deal with the reporters to give their opinions on the court’s decision to allow the family of the suicide bomber an extension to file any objections.

  Nirit asked her if she wanted to join them for lunch, but she preferred spending her break at the beach. The summer sun was hotter now, harsher. The beach looked a little different too. The shrubrush had turned yellow and the little sandstone hill that bordered it was gone, washed away by the stubborn waves. Her patch of sand had become a bit smaller due to the tides. She kept her clothes on and kicked off her shoes, walking the line between the dry and wet sand, allowing the flat little waves to lick her feet (“It’s so good to be alive”).

  She called Moshe before leaving the office.

  “Yes?” It was so good to hear his voice.

  “Hey, Moshe? How’s it going? Did you miss me? Remember me? Naomi? A lawyer? Your girlfriend?

  “Hi, I’m really glad you called. Where have you been?” she could tell by the
tone of his voice he was feeling down about something.

  “Moshe, what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve been trying to reach you and thought maybe you didn’t want to see me again. How’ve you been? It’s been so long.” She could sense he was avoiding the real issue. They decided to meet at her place.

  The minute she saw him waiting outside her door, she knew something was really wrong. She held his hand and led him to the sofa. She sat on the armrest and made him rest his head on her knees. Her heart shrunk to see the man she loved in so much pain and not able to share it with her.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No, no, I can’t. There are some things in my life that I cannot share with you, Naomi. Some difficult things happened over the past few days that are frustrating for me as a person and as the man who has fallen in love with you and still, I can’t bring myself to talk about them.”

  “You lost your job!”

  “Yes, it’s about my job. The project I told you about, it failed. The entrepreneur went bankrupt and my boss got in trouble. You have no idea how many hours, how much of my soul I put into this enterprise. Add to that the fact that I’ve been having some trouble with my family and, well.... But you know what, let’s forget about that, the important thing is that we are here together.”

  “I think I know what you mean,” she said softly. “We all have some facets of our lives that our private. We can’t always share every situation with each other. Sometimes, not knowing everything is the best thing. I really think that, until we decide to build a life together (“Oops, that came off a little too strong”) we should keep things intimate without bringing in the outside world. When the time is right, we’ll be able to share everything and connect completely.” She held him tight, nestling between his strong arms. “Until then, hold me. I’ve missed your touch so much.”

  They slid to the carpet and for the first time she felt she was supporting him more than he was supporting her. He clung to her like a lifeline, his touch full of pain and despair. His hands were so gentle, warm and loving as they moved together like two butterflies fluttering around one another, hardly touching, and when he entered her and their bodies became one, she felt something warm and wet on her shoulder. He was crying (“Such an amazing man, so strong and so sensitive”). She couldn’t hold back and also burst into tears, releasing some of the tension from events that had rattled her life so much recently. They were together in their hurt and their love.