“Udi, we have to get ready. Get up, right now.” Yaniv was ready and eager to finalize the week. He had been personally involved in planning some of the upcoming projects. “Come on, we’ve got to get ready.” he called Udi again.
Udi was relaxing outside on the terrace in a hammock, unwinding from his workouts in the hotel gym. His deep tan glistened as beads of sweat sparkled and shimmered on his skin. The sound of exquisite Arab melodies was ringing in the air just outside. There were belly dancers performing poolside, accompanied by an ensemble of various string and percussion instruments. Udi was captivated by their alluring, graceful movement and their colorful, exotic outfits.
As a gesture of good will and continued respect, King Hussein had made accommodations at the Aqaba Palms Resort Hotel available for our leisure and official conferences any time we wished. This was done in recognition and appreciation for the intelligence division of our Organization uncovering terrorist cells and providing dates and exact locations of their intended targets within Jordan.
“Udi, get on your feet. I’m giving you three seconds, or your head’s sure to pop from the pressure hold that’s coming your way.” Udi knew that this time he had better get his ass in gear, or else. The undulating Red Sea waters had done well to distract him from the missions and goals they had been working on.
Yaniv and Udi had enjoyed a great day, basking in the sun, swimming, and enjoying a Swedish massage, but now it was time to get back to business. There was definitely plenty of work ahead for them. “I’m going to mess you up so badly that you won’t be able to remember the time of day. Seriously. Get the hell up,” Yaniv commanded emphatically.
Yaniv was a short, stocky 32-year-old, with curly, golden hair. His sea-lion mustache was a blast from the past, resembling the style preferred by British commanders in the days of Lawrence of Arabia. He was rather short for someone with his combat profile, but that was no point of weakness for him. His low point of gravity served him well in hand-to-hand combat, and his strong disposition made up for his seemingly feeble appearance. Yaniv was considered one of the best of the team. Everyone looked up to him; even the higher-ups who mostly wished that they could be as agile and energetic as he was in the operations arena.
“Udi, get up we’re going to be late,” he called out vehemently. “We’ve only got 15 minutes to get to the meeting. You know how important this is.” As firm and demanding as Yaniv might have been, Udi would not have wanted a different partner. They had shared some great accomplishments through the years. Their achievements had been an exemplary working model straight out of the operations manuals for all new recruits. During preliminary training courses, the Organization showed videos of Udi and Yaniv in action, recorded via satellite, as examples of proper maneuvering in the field. Things were getting hairy lately based on national security assessments, and they both looked forward to the many missions on the horizon. Our Organization was highly charged with the impetus to correct the damage that had been done to the integrity of our nation; on both the domestic and the international levels. The hostilities perpetuated by the Jihadists and Palestinians were sure to continue, and it was essential to eliminate those behind the spread of violence, and disorder.
After Yaniv’s many calls compelling Udi to prepare for the upcoming meeting, he finally snapped into a sitting position, immediately jumped up like a spark of energy and got up and ran to dress. He knew better than to test Yaniv’s patience, assured that all hell would break loose if he did not prepare himself promptly. They rushed out the door and grabbed the elevator just in time. Luckily for them, it was on its way down. They knew very well that I would not take any shit from them because of technicalities the likes of elevator delays or malfunctioning alarm clocks. I was all business, and because they enjoyed their leaves, it was always better to keep on good terms with me and their other superiors. I never had any feelings when it came to insubordination. When I was pissed, you would be docked, and that was it.
The meeting hall had a breathtaking northern view of the Israeli Arava Desert and the Jordanian Edomite Mountain Range with their exquisite crimson, reddish hues. I was the high-ranking operations manager in this particular meeting, having set up all the necessary protocols for the afternoon’s meeting. My staff was already buzzing around the redwood post-modernist tables in the conference room. I watched them while they carefully placed the elaborate display and presentation material in their proper positions.
The Jordanian guards positioned at the doors of the meeting-hall greeted the agents with a salute. They knew them all well. Udi’s sweat was flowing down his face as he and Yaniv sat in their designated seats, gathering their breath. Minutes later, members of the Organization’s support team entered the meeting room. I eyed each one as they walked into the room. These recruits were some of the best soldiers we had, and they were ready to move on and make an important statement in their lives. When they all settled in, I began my briefing.
“Welcome gentlemen. Good day to you all. I know that you are all in top readiness!” I stated firmly. “Let me begin by wishing you all lots of success. These are going to be some of the most important missions we will be having for quite some time, whose outcome will be the monumental in the permanence of our people, both in Israel and with our partners in the free world. When all goes well, you will be proud as hell that you had been part of the action,” I commented firmly. I myself felt a sense of pride being in such a meeting with these brave soldiers and operatives.
“Before the Inkasar movement in Palestine obtained their initiative, my commando units were the only forces that exterminated evil players in the territories and in some of the surrounding countries. Our main goals had been to target individuals while they were in the process of meeting with one of their benefactors. In general, the job of elimination is done out in the open, whether it be day or night. At this point in time, the collaborators in Palestine are more than willing to rid their land of these parasitic, evil fanatics who have been destroying everything good about life in their region, including the Palestinian national pride and self-esteem. Now that we have a true partner for peace, we no longer have to directly initiate covert infiltration. We have finally attained the functional alternative, that being engaging the enemy through direct cooperation and conveyance with Inkasar - which is presently doing the job that Sahib Dachlawi should have done decades ago. In addition, our intelligence divisions are still very busy tracing the money flow, as well as the arms and materials being purchased by terrorist organizations worldwide. Tracing those that handle the money is the key to knowing who is where, and who is planning what with whom.” Everyone at the meeting was very attentive and eagerly waiting to hear more about their mission.
“The ever-growing terror and instability in the region has forced us to take additional action against our neighbors’ internal and external threats. From here on out, we will hit our targets at random sequences of time and location. There will be no warning of any kind, and the magnitude of the attacks will increase ten-fold. We will provide unyielding assistance to our newly established Palestinian partners. Total order and equality will be reached only after we have successfully put an end to the terrorist and militant foundations, not excluding their well-known financial supporters abroad.”
The teams knew that there were going to be some major changes, but never thought that it meant directly working with some kind of an underground Palestinian organization. There had been cooperation in the past, but it had always been with individual collaborators and not a structured body like Inkasar.
“Last week, as an important first step, the Command decided to initiate an assault on the Palestinian regime’s main sources of finance. That means some long distance travelling for some of you. This coming week will be your last week of leave for quite some time. Make the best of your time off; I know I will.
“Each team has a specific mission in which to partake. The missions have been carefully
planned and fully coordinated with all the acting parties, both in the Organization and those who have been contracted.” I could see the excitement embedded in their gazes. “No single objective is more relevant. As always, the lifeline of our nation and the balance of power in the region will be in your hands. All protocols will be provided to you by 22:00 tonight, with the transportation modules and mapping encoded in your laptops and palm-modules. Satellite contact and control communications will be with you at all times by means of the micro locator-receiver-implants you all have had injected under the skin of your neck. Needless to say, you will have air and ground relief, should you require it. For those of you with local missions, air relief will be handled by Special Forces helicopter support. Once a warning signal requesting assistance is picked up, your support will arrive in minutes. This is quite an improvement over the covert aspects of any of the previous operations. We are very proud of the heroic work you have done, and I wish you all the best in accomplishing your goals in the future. Please make sure the folders you have are complete. If you have any questions, this is the time to raise them.” No one spoke, as the plans were always clearly laid out and very specifically detailed.
“National security and the conditions under which our army and Organization work under are of the utmost importance. The outstanding obligations we have to the people of our nation and the free world are at the core for our persistence. So, in closing, I hope you enjoy the little time you’ll have together with your friends and family. I definitely don’t intend to mix business with pleasure in the next few days. I am glad you enjoyed your break and got to unwind. Good luck to you all. The meeting is adjourned.”
The five teams, two agents in each, stood and saluted before turning and leaving the room in a synchronized manner. As they strode down the corridor, Udi turned to Yaniv and said, “Man, are we lucky? I can imagine there would be no tomorrow had we missed our entrance. Sarah would have been pissed with me. She has had her fill of all this army business for a long while, and not seeing her before I go off on another mission would have been curtains for us as a couple. She is on the edge, as it is. I am going to make her feel like a queen and buy her a nice gift to cheer her up. I am planning a fancy dinner at La Corona. You know, that fancy restaurant in Tel-Aviv. She really loved the food we ordered the last time we ate there. She also enjoyed being around all the jet-setters and celebrities who had been dining there at the time.”
“Have a great time, buddy,” Yaniv expressed sincerely.
As I was walking down the corridor on the way to the elevators, Shlomo, one of the young recruits; very excited and quite energized, approached me and began complimenting and praising me. “Sir, can I call you by your first name now that we are off-duty?” Shlomo asked respectfully. I nodded. “Sir, I mean Yair,” he shook his head. “I want to ask you some questions about your past. I am curious about the details of your military background.”
“Sure, Shlomo,” I replied. I was touched by the adoration and curiosity. “Let’s go down to the lobby. We’ll sit over a few drinks and talk. I’ll have to keep it short, but no matter what, you’ll have a good idea about what I’m made of, and what I expect of all of you.”
I was always willing to share my past experiences with others. It is important to focus the energies we have and pass them to our colleagues, friends and family. The constant attempt by the many radical Islamic organizations around the world to demean us as a people has strengthened our determination and resolve to hit back and to do away with these primitive, barbaric enemies. We have been going on and on about the dream and we hope for peaceful coexistence. Since the recognition of the Palestinian State by the international community, that dream has turned into a continuous nightmare for the citizens of Israel. On a daily basis, rockets have been fired from Gaza, and Hamas operatives cross Israeli borders through tunnels, attacking innocent civilians. This was something that the Israeli government was concerned with from the beginning of the peace initiative. The Europeans, who had been behind the peace initiative, finally understood that they had made a grave mistake in believing the Palestinian leadership when they signed the binding peace agreement that had been drafted under their scrutiny.
Chapter Two
We went downstairs and sat in an open area of the lobby overlooking the beach. A smiling waiter approached us and we ordered some soft drinks. Shlomo was shifting around in his seat and I could see that he was anxious by his body language.
“Let me start way back in the beginning. I was just eighteen at the time when on a hot July afternoon, two friends from my platoon were abducted by Hezbollah fighters who had infiltrated the Lebanese-Israeli border. There were three Hezbollah abductors, trained in Iranian bases which were especially designed for that type of situation. Somehow, no one knew how, but they managed to break through the well-guarded fence without being spotted. We were especially agitated when we found out that the UN observers saw the whole incident, but refused to hand over a tape of the abduction. Our army administrators, embarrassed by the event, released minor details about the incident, and what they conveyed was released only weeks after the military investigation. By the evidence at hand, it was apparent that an enemy observer – near the border, within Israeli territory – divulged the pinpoint locations of Israeli patrol movements to the Hezbollah units operating in the area. He had set up various vantage points in order to map the area, including the point where the abduction took place.
“I knew what had to be done and accepted the fact that the political forums would limit the capacity of the army to do anything tangible that would bring about the release of my friends. After a brief meeting I had with three soldiers in our platoon, we all decided to take the matter into our own hands. In military terms, our actions would be categorized under the heading of insubordination; yet in historical terms, it was a prodigious military move, universal to heroes.”
“I read about this somewhere,” said Shlomo, “but I didn’t know that you were involved. But of course, the names were never mentioned in the material I had read.”
“Let me continue!” I interrupted. “I found out that the actual Hezbollah collaborator had been captured while trying to smear some tracks of his footprints near one of the observation points from which he had operated in the security zone. The whole incident would have never taken place back then, if the army had the current IsraEyes satellite-surveillance-defense program up and running.”
“I travelled alone to the Damon Military Prison where this Hezbollah collaborator was being held. I came prepared with some forged authorization papers; enabling me to observe and interview some of the prison operations. When I got to the security wing I was looking for, I went into the lavatory and changed my uniform into a prison guard’s uniform. I located the prisoner, entered his cell, and placed a knife to his throat. This was the only language these animals understood. I sternly hushed into the prisoner’s ear in a foreboding voice: You are going to meet your maker if you don’t reveal the whereabouts of the abducted soldiers. I had no problem dealing with the illegality of masquerading as a prison guard, or breaking in like some kind of a criminal. If suicide terrorists could dress up as Israeli soldiers, pass checkpoints, walk freely in open and closed areas populated by locals, and shoot automatic weapons indiscriminately at anyone, or turn themselves into fatal bombs, I was not going to let my army profile get in the way and affect my infiltration into a maximum-security military prison. I was enraged; while feeling my heart beating briskly, my veins bulged from the higher than normal blood pressure.
“‘I’m going to kill you slowly, you fucking piece of rotten shish kebab, and after I get through with you, I’m going to send your body parts to your low-life terrorist friends in a box filled with your shitty brain cells.’ I could well imagine some of those Amnesty International assholes gasping in horror had they have heard my passionate, forceful words. The prisoner was sweating profusely, gasping for air.
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��‘I swear to Allah that I know nothing about them,’ he grunted, showing signs of panic. He was already in physical distress, notably exemplified by the fact that he was sitting in a pool of his own urine and sweat. I grabbed him around the jaw and commenced to twist his head and neck to an almost lethal, excruciating breaking point.
“In my mind, I had images of the bodies and remains of Israeli soldiers which clearly showed signs of sadistic brutality after the PLO, Hamas, and Hezbollah handed them over to the Israeli Authorities in a prisoner-for-bodies exchange. As usual, the bodies of the dead soldiers were traded for the release of terrorists with blood on their hands. I remember how disgusted and infuriated I was upon seeing some videos that had been sent by these terrorist groups, displaying militants playing soccer with the heads of those they beheaded, their internal organs torn-out for others to kick and spit at after they were scattered. With all this in mind, I had absolutely no problem or guilt about being tough and hard with my interrogation in order to get the information that I needed. I let my resolve come forth with no holds barred; applying just the sufficient amount of pain necessary to get the results I was looking for. At any second, I could have easily taken vengeance on this prisoner with all my might had it not been for my self-control and rationale.
“It took only a few seconds, between the whining and moaning, for the pertinent information I needed to come flowing pitifully from the prisoner’s mouth. Once I got what I had come for, I left him there, sitting in his own shit. ‘So much for the Geneva Convention,’ I thought as I continued down the corridor, completely oblivious to the gasps and groans I could still hear coming from the tormented prisoner’s cell. I took off the prison guard uniform and changed back into my own uniform. By the time the guards realized there had been an actual incursion into one of the prisoner’s cells, I was ordering lunch at the counter of Mustafa’s Iraqi Pita Stand, a popular eatery just a few kilometers from the prison. With every bite of shawarma wrapped in Iraqi pita, I was thinking about the future rescue operation. I was content with my success in getting what I came for and relished the thought of releasing my friends from their abductors.
Broken Lands Page 2