Hatchet

by Israel Levy

  The minibus was already at the camp gate when she arrived. They waited a few more minutes for Yaniv to join them and were taken to their usual spot. Shahaf greeted them like any other day, his arms crossed. “Today we have a little lecture for you.”

  They walked up the stairs to the second floor which they’d never visited and entered a fairly large lecture hall. To their surprise quite a few people were inside, some in uniform, others in civilian dress, and several soldiers held trays of snacks, cookies and drinks.

  There was a podium with the Matkal insignia on it. Security guards in civilian dress circled the room. Naomi sensed that all the team members were feeling equally out of place, but Shahaf, sensing their discomfort, told them everything was fine and to wait a little longer.

  All at once, the conversations in the room came to a halt. Everyone faced the door. The military men in the room, most with ranks of lieutenant colonel or higher, stood at attention, while the civilians in the room simply stood quietly. An entourage of security agents entered the hall and behind them walked the IDF Chief of Staff and the Minister of Defense. They approached the podium.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please,” said the Chief of Staff. “Members of Hatchet team, come forward please.”

  Naomi was shocked to hear the code name being announced in such a public forum.

  “Attention please. Thousands of people take part in the war against the terror whose goal is to destroy us. These people work in intelligence gathering and analysis, strategizing, and forming tactical plans - employees in the General Security Services, the Mossad and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. At times this extensive, time consuming labor of so many, culminates in a few moments of action by highly trained teams prepared for a particular mission over a long period of time. These people work diligently around the clock and do not wish to be rewarded for their labor with medals. Some cannot be here with us today as they have devoted their lives to anonymity. Yet there are times when we who head the system feel that thanks must indeed by made to these nameless men and women. We thank you, on behalf of everyone taking part, on behalf of the citizens of Israel who owe them their ability to continue to live their lives in a free, independent country, These individuals – Shahaf pushed the team members closer to the podium – are worthy of our utmost gratitude. Their devotion and skill enabled the success of the mission. On behalf of the State, I invite the Minister of Defense to award each member of the Hatchet team with the Chief of Staff Citation.”

  The Minister of Defense approached the stand. “I am not allowed to mention their names. I am not at liberty to speak of their actions. I cannot share what they succeeded in doing. I can’t even say hello to them anywhere outside this room.” He smiled, sending titters of laughter across the room.

  “However, I can shake the hands of the individuals who will remain anonymous in their undercover holy work.” The minister stepped down from the podium and presented each team member a rolled certificate and a closed box, to the cheers and applause of the crowd.

  Naomi shook hands with the Minister and the Chief of Staff, accepted her certificate and opened the box she’d been handed. Inside were the citation medal and an inscription – in commendation of your contribution to the safety of the nation. Naomi lowered her head and wiped a wayward tear from her cheek, overcome with emotion. She looked up saw that the other team members were equally moved. The Chief of Staff raised a glass “to the State of Israel and the nameless soldiers who protect it.”

  Naomi was overwhelmed with pride to be an integral part of this group ethos (“It was all worth it, if only for this recognition and gratitude”).

  The entourage left the room, with Gideon and Abraham at the end of the line, patting the team members on their backs as they exited the building. “Okay, friends. Don’t think I’m going to let this go to your heads,” said Shahaf. “Let’s get going. Change into your training clothes. We have a lot of work to do to get you back in shape after your little Roman vacation.”

  Running seemed easier than ever before. The smell of the orchards filled their nostrils as they took their usual route passed the eucalyptus trees and toward the headquarters which appeared before them from between the trees. Naomi glanced at the other team members who just a few months earlier, knew nothing of each other. Now they were one cohesive, well-trained unit. They smiled back at her, letting her know they felt the same.

  “So I hear you’ve already proven your abilities,” said Effy at the start of their Krav Maga session. “And I hear you did pretty well. But, let’s keep everything in perspective, friends. We still have a lot to achieve. Naomi and Yaniv, take the mat.” The session was protracted and sweat flowed like water.

  “Come on, hit the open range, quick run,” commanded Shahaf after two and a half hours of Krav Maga. At the range they each received M16 rifles with telescopic night vision sights, as well as a few other weapons they were not familiar with, which looked like dart guns (“Wonder what those are for?”).

  Shahaf spoke, “What we have here is a micro camera launcher. Looks strange, doesn’t it? A bit like a bow and arrow. But this is an excellent tool for undercover activity. The arrow makes no sound as it carries the recording device to its target.”

  They began shooting practice with the M16’s, then turned to the camera launchers. Naomi had a difficult time stretching the bowstring taut, and it took her a few hours to successfully launch the arrow fitted with the micro camera.

  Her shower after the grueling rifle practice and Krav Maga session was a real pleasure. They stepped out of the building, climbed into the minibus and to Naomi’s surprise, Abraham was waiting for them there.

  “People, very few receive such recognition for their actions, but you earned it. We’re preparing for a new level of engagement, but before that, it has been decided you deserve a ten day break.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. The smiles on everyone’s faces turned into shouts of joy. They were like little children, embracing one another, with Abraham watching them silently, a contented smile on his face.

  She strode into the office.

  “Hi, Yael. Is Leibowitz in?”

  “Yes, he’s in his room. What’s up? You look really happy about something.”

  “I’ll tell you about it when I have the chance (“Yeah, right”).” She knocked on Leibowitz’s door.

  “Yes!” he cried.

  She pushed the door open and entered the room. Seeing it was her, Leibowitz immediately rose to his feet, and approached her for a handshake. She closed the door behind her.

  “I knew you were made of the right stuff. Well done, take a seat.”

  Yael called to see if they wanted anything to drink.

  “Just get us two cognac glasses from the cupboard in the other room.” Naomi could hear Yael gag and could almost picture the expression on her face.

  “That’s fine, thank you,” Leibowitz chased Yael out of the room as soon as she placed down the glasses. He opened the cupboard full of legal tomes and reached for the bottle of fine cognac on the bottom shelf, uncorked it and poured the exquisite stuff into both glasses.

  “Here’s to you, Naomi,” he raised his glass.

  “To you, Mr. Leibowitz,” said Naomi, and they sipped on their drinks, knowing smiles on their faces.

  “I hear Abraham is giving you some time off. If you like, what am I talking about ‘If you like’? Take time off from here too. Go somewhere far away, unwind. You have some tough days ahead of you. We’ll take care of everything on this end.”

  Naomi was so thankful she couldn’t resist giving Leibowitz a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He smiled, embarrassed. “Go on, have a great time.”

  She noticed she’d parked her car on the dividing line between two parking spots (“The neighbors will kill me”), pressed the car alarm and sprinted up the stairs, kicking off her shoes and lunging at the pho
ne the minute she was in her apartment (“Pick up, pick up, c’mon. Please be home, please, please, please”).

  There was no answer. She checked her emails and found a love filled message from Moshe. She hit reply and wrote ‘call me back ASAP. I need to talk to you about something’ – her phone rang immediately.

  “Naomi. What’s up?” she heard Moshe’s voice.

  “Yes!” she let out a cry of joy. “I’m so glad you got back to me so quickly.”

  “What’s going on? We said we’d meet tonight, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, yes, but listen,” she was so excited she could hardly catch her breath.

  “Naomi, calm down, what’s going on?”

  “Listen, I got a week off from work (“I have to spare at least three days for Shuli and Mom”) and I was thinking maybe, maybe you could get time off too and we could go somewhere, far away from here? Please.”

  Moshe said nothing. No sound was coming from the other end of the line and it was as if she could hear the wheels spinning inside his head.

  “Moshe, are you there?”

  “Yes. You just caught me by surprise. Let me think about it. You know what, let me call my boss and see what I can do.” They said they’d talk again in half an hour and meet later that night no matter what.

  Naomi felt as if her body was on fire. She ran a bath and poured in a bottle of bath foam she’d taken from the hotel in Italy. She removed her clothes. Her body had become so muscular. She admired her flat stomach and firm abs (“That grueling training has really paid off”). She dipped her toe in the water, it was warm enough, and she slid all the way in, letting the water encompass her.

  She lay still for a few moments, relishing the sensation. She reached for the sponge and rubbed it over every inch of her body until her skin started to turn red. Then she shampooed her hair (“My god, I look like a Neanderthal”), stepped out of the tub, leaving puddles on the bathroom floor, grabbed her razor and got back in the tub. The water was starting to cool down so she turned the hot water tap back on. She loved the feeling of the razor against her legs and rinsed herself off when she was done.

  She put on her white bathrobe and wrapped her hair in a towel and was just about to dry her hair when the intercom buzzed (“Someone must have pressed the wrong button”). She couldn’t see anything on the intercom monitor.

  “Hello? Who’s there?”

  A blurry bouquet of flowers appeared on the screen. Her heart began to pound. Behind the bouquet she saw Moshe’s face. “Is this the residence of Ms. Erez?”

  She laughed in excitement. “Come on up.”

  Naomi buzzed him in and a minute later opened her door, hiding behind it (“Wouldn’t want any neighbors to see me like this”). The huge bouquet preceded Moshe. She pushed it aside and gave him a massive hug.

  “Weren’t we supposed to meet later tonight?”

  “We were, but you asked me a question and I thought it would be better to answer face to face rather than on the phone.”

  She sensed a serious tone in his voice. She held his hand and led him to the sofa, tossing the cushions to the floor. She sat down, covering her bare legs with her robe and Moshe sat across from her, looking quite stern.

  “What is it, Moshe?”

  “Look, I feel bad. You asked about going away together.”

  He paused and Naomi could feel her heart burst (“What’s going on with him? Something isn’t right”).

  “I decided,” he paused again. “I decided a villa in Tuscany would be just right.”

  She thought she was about to faint. What if she didn’t hear him right (“Don’t get too excited, there might be some kind of catch”). “Wait, wait, what are you saying? I don’t understand.”

  “Maybe this will explain it better.” He reached in his pocket and took out a few pages he’d printed from a travel site. The first page showed a photo of a stone house with a pool surrounded by woodland. The other pages contained information and route maps. She threw herself at him, kissing his face, forehead, cheeks, lips. He tried to push her off, laughing in amusement at her reaction.

  “Wait, wait, let’s plan what we want to do.”

  “Never mind planning right now, you’ve knocked me off my feet!” she pulled him into the bedroom, allowing her robe to drop to the floor.

  Evening found them sitting cross legged on the floor, hunched over three maps of Italy.

  “I see you‘re an accomplished map reader,” said Naomi.

  “Well, I am an architect, after all,” he smiled.

  They drew a route from Rome to Tuscany. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening (“I have to remember to call Shuli and mom”).

  Naomi picked Moshe up from his place. He was waiting for her outside the house, wearing a pair of jeans and a crisp, white t-shirt, his tanned skin accentuating his muscled arms. sunglasses and holding his carry-on, he jumped into her sporty yellow car and kissed her. She hit the gas and they were off to the airport.

  “Naomi, slow down, Italy isn’t going anywhere,” he laughed, revealing his sparkling white teeth. She parked her car in the long-term lot and they boarded the shuttle to the departures hall. When they stepped inside she realized she was automatically scanning the room for security personnel and suspicious looking individuals (“I need to shake off this habit, I deserve a real vacation”), sending a courteous smile at the ground attendant.

  “I don’t feel like doing any duty free shopping. I just want to be in that villa in Tuscany already,” she smiled and held him close. They went to the currency exchange counter to buy Euro.

  The wheels of the Alitalia plane finally touched the ground with a harsh squeak and the engines gasped as the pilot pulled on the brakes at Fiumicino airport (“It drives me crazy that I can’t tell him what happened here”). As the plane approached the jet bridge she looked out onto the building that so recently had been the scene of the most exciting event in her life. She noticed the security guards standing around an El Al plane at the edge of the airport, guarded by two Carabinieri armored cars.

  “Did you hear what happened here recently with El Al passengers?”

  His face was turned to look out the window. “Yeah, I heard something. I hope the rental agency reserved us the car I booked.”

  And indeed, the vehicle Moshe had booked was waiting for them. He paid cash and they left the airport, onto the autostrada, north towards Tuscany. They decided to stay on the highway to Florence and turn south towards Sienna. There, between the rolling hills of Tuscany, the villa was waiting for them. Moshe’s face softened and he smiled at Naomi. She leaned back in her seat, rolled down the window (“This feels so great”) and as night approached they arrived at a small town on the southern edge of the Tuscany province.

  “The GPS doesn’t seem to recognize the villa’s address. Tell you what, instead of driving around and looking for it in the dark, let’s just find a little hotel and spend the night here.” They found a room at a local farm.

  Naomi thought she was still dreaming when the rooster called for the third time. She sat up in bed, startled awake, and then saw Moshe standing at the open window, staring at the blue sky and fruit trees. The cries of the rooster mingled with the cackles of ducks. She wrapped a sheet around herself and approached him softly. He started when she clung to him from behind, then held her hands.

  “Good morning, Naomi,” he turned to her.

  “If only we could freeze time, if only we could stay right here, right now, forever.”

  His eyes grew misty and a single tear dropped down his cheek. Naomi wiped it with her finger. “I love you, Moshe.”

  “I love you, Naomi.”

  They embraced with great pain and passion. She could feel her heart aching in her chest (“Why is such a happy moment making me so feel so much sadness and pain?”). She pushed him away and saw him smiling beneath the tears.


  “Are we crazy or what? Let’s get some breakfast and drive to the villa.”

  Their breakfast was already on the table, prepared by the old lady who owned the farm - two eggs sunny-side-up, a large chopped salad, and bread with homemade butter and cheeses (“This is amazing”).

  They resumed their drive north, and after checking the map took a turn onto a small dirt road that wound up a hill, between trees and patches of grass.

  They followed a few carved wooden signs through the woods and suddenly, the villa appeared before them.

  “Buongiorno,” an old man standing at the gate, holding a wooden pitchfork, greeted them (“He looks like a character from a period painting”). He led them inside. The villa had thick, stone walls and green wooden shutters. He drew the curtains and opened the window and a burst of natural light and air flooded the huge room. One large open space housed the living room, decorated with heavy furniture and a modern stainless steel kitchen (“I just love this combination of old and new”).

  They felt like little kids, holding hands, following the old man as he ambled up the stairs to the second floor, which had two bedrooms each with a double bed. The bed frames were made of iron, with tall springs lifting the soft mattress high. Naomi jumped on it, letting her whole body sink in, as Moshe and the old man laughed. Facing the bed was a carved, wooden dresser and a large mirror. On either side of the bed stood two small night stands with brochures about the villa and its surroundings, and a New Testament as well. Naomi noticed Moshe taking the book to place it in the bottom drawer, and smiled to herself (“That’s so Jewish of him”).