Hatchet

by Israel Levy

  They finished the tour and received the keys to the villa from the old man.

  “Is it OK to wander around here?”

  “Yes, of course. Just try not to trespass on anyone’s private property. But even if you do, you’d be welcome. Dinner is at seven.”

  They went back upstairs, changed into comfortable clothes and sneakers and stood next to the pool, gazing appreciatively at the incredible views - rolling green hills as far as the eye could see, marked by orderly rows of vineyards and dotted with little farmhouses.

  “It’s gorgeous here.”

  They stood there together, embracing one another, marveling at the magnificent scenery and endless tranquility. Then they descended down the path which led from the pool to the little valley, walking between the twisting vines.

  Soon they were quite some distance from the villa.

  “Don’t worry, I remember the way back,” said Moshe in response to Naomi’s concerned expression. “We’ll make it in time for dinner.”

  They continued up one path and arrived at a farm house with a sign that indicated this was a local winery. An elderly lady came out to greet them, chatting away in Italian.

  “No, non parliamo Italiano. Solo inglese.”

  “Ah, turisti,” she switched to English. “You are invited to try some of our wines.”

  “Thank you.”

  They followed her inside. The stone walls were covered with shelves and laden with dozens of wine bottles. In the center of the room was a makeshift table comprised of two barrels and wooden board. On it were vegetables, a few blocks of cheese, and several half empty bottles of wine.

  “Here we are. This vintage is from 1996.” The lady told them her family had been living on the farm for more than two hundred years, passing on traditional wine making techniques from father to son.

  “My father only had daughters, so I took over from him.”

  They bought two bottles of red wine which she recommended.

  Back at the villa, at precisely seven p.m., following a refreshing shower, they went down to the living room both wearing white. The table was set for two, laden with traditional dishes and two huge glasses of wine.

  The old man was in the kitchen next to an equally old woman wearing a full length apron and stirring a massive pot of stew (“They look like such a sweet old couple”). Dinner was delicious, a meat stew with potatoes that tasted heavenly and wine, glass after glass of wine.

  It was a magical meal and an equally magical evening.

  Over and over again Moshe whispered in her ear, “I love you, Naomi.”

  He caressed her more gently than ever and as he penetrated her she felt her whole being encompassing him with endless softness and love. Their motions were slow. They tried to savor every second. She could feel him filling her from the inside and tried to make him move faster but he stopped her, insisting on prolonging the pleasure, until neither one of them could wait any longer and slowly they built up speed, her body moving towards his again and again. She wanted him, all of him, he entered her time and again, “Oh, god,” her body arched with the sensation and they were one.

  The days flew by, in quiet morning walks through the lush hills, in cafes at this or that piazza, in Siena or Florence, swimming in the pool, naked if no one was around, napping in the sun, enjoying candlelit dinners, taking in the peaceful green all around them (“This is the perfect place for love”). All this quiet calm was replaced, in an instant, by the honking of cars as they made their way back on the autostrada to Rome. They said nothing almost the entire way, with Naomi simply holding Moshe’s hand and looking at him lovingly.

  Checking in at Fiumicino and waiting at the boarding gate brought back images of her previous ‘visit’. She tried to make eye contact with some of the security guards whose faces she remembered. As the airplane touched ground at Ben Gurion airport she felt an inexplicable sense of sadness.

  “Vacation’s over, Moshe. All good things must come to an end.”

  “Right, vacation’s over. But Naomi,” he turned to her in the car on their way back to the city, “always remember my words of love to you. We’ve made so many memories to cherish for the rest of our lives, and not many people have that.”

  “Hey, enough with the sad face! We’ll have lots more moments like them, if not better.”

  He gave her a generous, though somewhat forced smile. “You’re right.” She dropped him at his house and saw him as he watched her drive off, until she was gone from sight.

  Shuli greeted her with hugs, squeezing every piece of information she could from her.

  ”Sis, you’re so in love! Do I hear wedding bells?”

  Naomi tried to shut her up and change the subject, knowing her mother would be so excited at the very mention of a wedding she wouldn’t let her hear the end of it.

  “How’s everything at the office, Yael?”

  Yael sounded a bit confused over the phone.

  “Let me tell you, Naomi. I’ve been noticing Leibowitz giving more and more credit to Rami on the case you’re heading. I really think you need to cut your vacation short and set things straight.”

  “It’s alright, Yael, we decided it together. I’ll be away from work quite a lot soon. Don’t worry, thank you for looking out for me, but my place is safe.”

  Chapter 7

  “Hey, guys,” it was hugs all around and pats on the back as the team members met at the gate, all looking well rested and ready for their training to resume.

  “Listen up, everyone,” Abraham said. “We’re entering the last stages of preparation and planning for our main action. In fact, countdown has already begun. Starting now you will begin working together with the other units taking part in this operation. As of today you’ll be attached to Matkal- the elite commando unit and will receive all orders directly from its commander. You will train alongside them for the action. I hope you will make us proud again,” he smiled.

  The minibus continued south, passing two more gates, arriving eventually at the entrance to another base, the Matkal camp.

  A young soldier led them to a barracks building. “Get changed, you’re expected outside shortly.”

  “Hello, team. You’re all looking refreshed. Let’s see what kind of shape you’re in.” They were delighted to see Yael again. She smiled at them and began jogging with the whole team at her heels. Naomi felt light and full of energy. The team ran as one, close together, pressing in on Yael from behind.

  “Good, good, keep to my pace. We’re not in any hurry.”

  Effy was there too and he greeted them as they entered a gymnasium almost identical to the one they had used before. At the edge of the hall stood a few young soldiers in army sweats and sneakers, warming up.

  “Let’s see what you remember,” Effy gestured towards the soldiers.

  “Listen up. I want you to split into pairs, each team member picks a partner from the younger group. When I say the word you begin three minutes of free fighting until surrender.”

  The soldiers looked quite uncomfortable, facing people who were considerably older than them, even women, but it took them no more than a few seconds to realize these were well trained individuals and they needed to put up a fight.

  Ziv was the first to take out his partner. Keren surrendered, lying on the ground with the soldier on top of her. Naomi got kicked but it only made her angry. Before her partner had time to react she sent a swerving kick his way and then came in from behind his legs, knocking him down to the mat. When he was down she lunged at him, sticking her fingers in his eyes until he surrendered.

  Effy was watching from the sidelines and Naomi caught a glimpse of him smiling at her ferocity.

  They spent the following week training with the Matkal unit ; running, shooting, practicing Krav Maga, studying topography. It felt strange, working with guys who were more than ten years her juni
or.

  “People,” Abraham began when the training week came to an end. (It went by so quickly she only now realized that she hadn’t called Moshe).

  “People, we’re splitting into pairs. Each pair should go to the quartermaster’s and armory for equipment: a duffle bag, class B uniforms, a pair of boots, a battle vest, and a weapon. Then join the activity to which your team has been assigned.”

  They received their gear and put on the uniform and vests. The minibus crossed the entrance gate to the camp and turned towards an old landing strip. At its edge were three Black Hawks, engines running and their propellers turning lazily. A young first lieutenant ran up to them, bypassing the rotors, and turned to Naomi and Ziv.

  “You’re on that one,” he pointed to the helicopter on the right. “Keren and Yaniv are in the one in the middle, and Aaron and Gila in the one on the left. You’ll receive further instructions from the team commanders once you’re on board. From now on, you’re officially attached to this group and listed as reserve personnel.”

  Naomi embarked first, followed by Ziv. Inside the helicopter they found five young soldiers in class B uniforms and vests, their faces made up with camouflage paint. She recognized three of them from the past three days’ training. They wore earpieces and tiny wire microphones, and a black band around their foreheads with night vision equipment, their automatic weapons resting on their knees.

  “Hello, I’m Yaron, the team commander,” said one of the soldiers. No one’s uniform was marked with rank insignias. He tried to overcome the noise of the rotor, which grew louder and louder as the chopper began to rise from the ground.

  “Here are your radio communications gear and night vision goggles. Put them on. I need to stress that today you will be observing. Do nothing except watch. Naomi, you’re number 5, and Ziv, you’re 6” (“He knows our names and probably has a lot more information about us, this kid. Looks to be about twenty six, probably a captain”).

  “Try to keep up and follow everything we do. From this moment until we return to base, no questions, no talking.”

  When the team commander finished speaking Naomi grabbed her weapon and checked it. She glanced at the others and saw that their magazines were inserted. She inserted hers and sat down. The soldier next to her opened a box of face paint, handed it to her and she applied it.

  The helicopter gained height, flying in formation with the other choppers. It was dark inside, the outer marker lights, the only things shining. Naomi could make out the lights of Rishon LeZion and Nes Ziona and knew they were headed south. Yaron, the commander, spread out a map on his knees, his finger trailing the flight route. Everything was quiet except for the sounds of the rotor.

  Every now and then the chopper’s radio gave out a location notice. The pilot said little as well. Eventually she felt they were beginning to descend. Through the darkness she could see they were flying at the level of the treetops. After ten minutes flying close to the ground the marker lights were suddenly turned off, the radios silenced, and Naomi noticed even the rotor wasn’t as loud (“They must have some sort of silencer for that”). The chopper kept flying in that mode for about forty more minutes, with Yaron checking the ground conditions. Without warning, the chopper turned sharply northward and landed.

  Before the wheels touched the sandy ground, the soldiers began jumping off and running into the darkness, securing a perimeter of about twenty meters.

  Naomi jumped off last and ran in one direction, then knelt down on one knee, attempting to see through the darkness. The minute she was off, the chopper rose back into the air, its nose toward the ground, made a circle and disappeared behind the ridge line.

  Naomi noticed now that tonight there was a full moon. She estimated it was about ten p.m. There was a slight chill in the air and the silence was overwhelming. Slowly but surely, her eyes began to grow accustomed to the darkness and she became aware of hunched figures around her.

  “Pssst,” someone whispered at her. With a wave of a hand everyone approached him, until the whole team was kneeling around Yaron. He checked to see that everyone was present and without saying a word got up and started a quick march away from the landing area. Naomi’s vest wasn’t properly adjusted and she spent several minutes fiddling with it while trying to follow Yaron’s quick step.

  The group walked quickly, Yaron stopping every now and then, kneeling, and checking his surroundings using the night vision goggles. Whenever he did, the other team members spread out and secured the perimeter. They were moving inside a valley. Naomi could feel the air become cooler. When Yaron climbed up to the ridge line, the soldiers followed him up two thirds of the way. He crossed the ridge line running and each soldier in turn did the same.

  The ground was sandy but tough (“Like the soil in the Aravah”). Naomi would stumble on a rock now and then but tried her best not to emit a sound. All she heard was the soft padding of the soldiers’ red combat boots, marching in a quick step. After about an hour’s walk her feet started to feel like they were on fire and she began to breathe heavily. She glanced at the soldiers’ next to her and noticed they were watching her to see how she was coping with the effort. They were breathing heavily as well.

  After two additional hours of walking they reached a ravine that stretched down towards a black ribbon through the valley ahead. A road, and beyond it the lights of a small town (“I wonder where we are. Might be Yeruham, or one of the Negev Bedouin settlements”). She saw lights from houses and cars and heard voices, carried through the wind, of people, music, and shouting she couldn’t make sense of.

  They skidded down the slope, progressing on all fours, descending to a spot about two thirds from the top. Yaron signaled for the force to stop and position themselves on a small plateau behind a large, thorny bush. Four team members scattered looking for cover. Two soldiers, carrying large backpacks, removed shovels and spades and began disrupting the night’s silence with the sound of digging. Two soldiers dug at a point two thirds up the slope, and a third dug a bit farther up. They traded places every now and then. Occasionally the lights of civilian cars and army trucks moving north and south on the road blazed through the darkness. The soldiers would then stop what they were doing, lie flat on the ground, and resume digging once the vehicle was out of sight.

  By now there were tall mounds of dirt testifying to the depth of their trenches. The soldiers reached in their bags for pegs and stakes and after jamming them firmly in the ground covered them with a perforated canvas similar in color to that of the earth. They poured the soil they had collected in their digging on top of the canvas, leaving a small part of the cover, closer to road, exposed. They sprayed some sort of adhesive substance onto the canvas and covered it with more soil, and after about three hours of work there was no way to tell that the ground had been disturbed.

  They scattered the remaining, unused soil, disguising it with old twigs so as to make it blend into the scenery. A cue from Yaron, who had been lying higher up observing the road the entire time, and Naomi, Ziv and four of the team members climbed into the trench.

  Naomi went first, followed by Ziv and the rest. The trench was large but still quite cramped for six people. The sixth soldier climbed inside the higher dugout, keeping watch beyond the ridge line.

  No one uttered a word the whole time.

  “Two, do you copy?” whispered Yaron into the microphone. Naomi heard the response in her earpiece.

  “Two, copy. I’m in position.”

  One soldier reached in his backpack and took out night vision binoculars. Facing the slit he attached a camera with a large lens onto the goggles.

  “Five and Six, you can rest up for a while. We’ll wake you at dawn.”

  Naomi laid her head on the ground, trying to find a position that made sense after wrestling with the weight of the vest on her hips and the weapon on her chest, and finally fell asleep like a bag of potatoes. She dreamt of the
airport in Rome. Planes were landing and taking off and she was surrounded by passengers talking loudly. A flight attendant approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “Five, good morning.”

  She was startled awake by someone grabbing her and shaking her by the shoulders. She smiled at the young, handsome man, lost for a split second as to what he was doing at the airport. Instantly, she was awake and alert. She sat up quickly, her head touching the dugout cover, and hunched back down. Ziv was already awake, chewing on something that looked like a snack and sipping water from a canteen. She heard the sound of airplane engines in the background (“Wait, am I still dreaming? What’s going on?”). She felt disoriented.

  Her mouth was dry and filled with a bad taste. One of the soldiers handed her a snack and a canteen. She took a sip of water and tried to rub her teeth clean with her fingers. Then she took a bite of the snack and drank more water before realizing it wasn’t a good idea to drink too much as her bladder was already about to burst.

  Yaron kept watch, using the binoculars and taking a few photos with the camera every now and then. It took stills as well as videos, and was hooked up to a laptop one of the other soldiers was operating while lying flat on his stomach next to Yaron. The soldier typed away at the computer and Naomi saw the videos and stills Yaron took flash across the monitor before being forwarded to an online address that appeared on screen.

  The sun was beginning to shine. Rays of light entered the dugout, strips through the dust filled air. Yaron called her and she crawled towards the slit in the trench. She saw the road stretching before her eyes at the foot of the hill from north to south, only about a hundred meters away. Five hundred meters or so away from the road, on its eastern side, she saw the camp against which they were positioned . It was an airforce base.

  A tall fence with guard towers surrounding the base and jeeps circled the inner perimeter. She noticed buildings that she assumed were barracks concentrated on one side of the camp and further to the west, two landing strips and hangars housing fighter planes. There were only a few soldiers around the tents and sheds next to the strip. On the strip were two fighter planes, their engines ready for takeoff. For a second she thought she must be mistaken when she noticed a Jordanian flag on the planes’ wings.