To Be An Israeli: The Fourth Book in the All My Love, Detrick series

by Roberta Kagan

  In his new life, when he dated a woman, he took her out to nice dinners, sometimes dancing because he still loved American rock and roll, and then to bed. That was all there was to the relationship. When she even hinted at wanting more, Elan quite simply disappeared.

  This most recent one, Marva, had really begun to care for him. She’d tried to show what a good wife she could be by trying to take charge of his life. He’d had enough of that with his ex-wife, Janice. Janice…when he thought about her, he felt a chill run down his spine. She was one controlling pain in the ass. It was strange, but he never, not even for a minute, missed his ex-wife after she left.

  He knew when Marva began showing up at his apartment with food, trying to do his laundry and telling him he smoked and drank too much, that she was going over the line. She’d cheerfully insisted on cleaning his kitchen and bathroom. As he watched her, on her knees scrubbing, he began to feel smothered.

  It was time to say goodbye. He’d let the phone ring, trying to avoid confrontation. But she was not giving up, so the next time she called, he would have to tell her firmly that it was over.

  Elan sorted through the papers on his desk. He locked up the ones that were top secret and put the others in a pile according to their priority for addressing the next day. Then he locked the door to the office and went home.

  The following morning, when he awoke at six o’clock, his phone was already ringing. He knew it had to be Marva. He was annoyed and quickly losing patience.

  “This is Elan Amsel,” he said into the heavy black receiver.

  “Elan, it’s Marva.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I hope you’re doing all right after the funeral. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Do you need anything? Can I bring some food to your apartment, maybe?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Marva had asked to go with him to his mother’s funeral, but he refused, telling her he needed to be with his family. It wasn’t true. Elan had grown such a hard shell that he didn’t need anyone anymore. In fact, he told himself that if he ever saw Katja again, he wouldn’t have any feelings left for her, either.

  “Elan, I know this is a hard time for you, so I am not going to bother you. Why don’t you call me when you need me? I’ll be here, waiting,” Marva said.

  Elan heard the tears that she was trying to disguise in her voice, and he was eager to get off the phone and away from this clutching, clawing, needy woman. “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he said trying to control the desire to yell at her, to tell her to leave him alone, to go away already, to quit grasping on to him, and to let him breathe.

  “I hope I’ll hear from you soon. Please, Elan, if you need anything…”

  She was still talking when Elan hung up the phone. Women! he thought.

  That night, Elan went to a nightclub a few blocks from his office. He was tired of Marva. It was time to find a new and less-demanding woman. As he sat having a drink, Elan glanced across the bar and saw a young Israeli woman. She wore a black dress that fit like a glove and had long, tight ringlets of curly, dark hair that surrounded an arresting face with olive skin and dark eyes. She appeared to be in her early twenties. Even on five-inch heels, she was as graceful as a deer.

  “Send that girl over there a drink, whatever she’s drinking. Tell her it’s from me,” Elan said to the bartender, tossing a bill on the bar.

  When she received the drink, the girl looked up at him, and her eyes sparkled like black diamonds. She looked him up and down then smiled. For a moment, she stared at him, and he returned her smile. Then she laughed and turned away. Without touching the drink he’d sent, the girl got up and walked out of the club.

  Elan was shocked, a little angry, but strangely intrigued. This girl’s behavior was highly unusual. Women usually fell at his feet. He threw another bill down on the bar to pay for his tab then got up to follow the girl.

  She wasn’t hard to find. In fact, she was standing outside with some guy. They were laughing and talking. When he looked at her, Elan felt his back stiffen. Then he chewed on the side of his lower lip. Fuck her, he thought. I don’t need this shit. Women are nothing but a waste of time anyway. Turning around, Elan headed back home to his apartment.

  But that night, he dreamed of the girl with the long, dark hair and the piercing, black eyes.

  Two days later, Elan was at work. In the back of the office, the employees had access to a kitchen. They had a coffee pot that boiled water, a refrigerator, and a few card tables and folding chairs. Elan was in the kitchen pouring a cup of instant coffee for himself. Harari walked into the room and patted Elan’s shoulder.

  “Amsel, I want you to meet Nina, our newest agent. She is brilliant. She served one term in the IDF and two years in training. Can you believe she’s made it into Mossad, and she’s only twenty-two?”

  Elan turned around to see the same girl from the club, the one who had spurned him. There was no doubt in his mind that it was her. He’d never seen anyone else with those laughing, diamond eyes.

  “Nina, this is Elan Amsel. You won’t meet a more devoted agent,” Harari said.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elan Amsel,” Nina said. He thought she sounded like she was mocking him…at least a little. Infuriating!

  “Nina has been trained for special ops.”

  “Impressive,” Elan said with just a touch of sarcasm, “for such a young girl.”

  “I’ve always wanted to be a part of Mossad,” Nina said.

  Elan nodded. “Well, here you are…”

  “Stay away from her, Amsel. She’s young and innocent.”

  Nina laughed. Damn, she was bold and sure of herself. Her confidence annoyed Elan. Her arrogance incensed but intrigued him. In many ways, she reminded him of himself and for some reason, that really got under his skin.

  Elan couldn’t help but watch Nina as she moved through the office. She wore a full, colorful cotton skirt and a white sweater over a black camisole. He noticed that she wasn’t particularly curvy, and he usually liked his women curvy. She was slender, with muscular legs and thin, strong arms. He knew she’d gone through rigorous training to be accepted into Mossad, and he had to admire that. But most of the other women he’d worked with had not been so damn delicate and feminine-looking, so strangely irresistible.

  This Nina appeared to be an odd mixture of opposites, a mix of both strength and frailty. How was that possible? Elan found himself pondering that question as he stared at Nina several times a day. For some reason, she seemed to be unaware of his attention. It was odd. Most women were flattered if he even looked their way, usually enough to fall into his bed. So what the hell was wrong with this one? Maybe she’s a lesbian? he thought as he soothed his wounded ego.

  After she’d ignored him for several days, Elan couldn’t stand it anymore. He walked over to her desk.

  “I’m sorry if I made a bad first impression. I’m Elan.”

  “I know who you are. Remember, we were introduced? Besides, your reputation with women precedes you,” Nina said, not even looking up from her work.

  “Listen. I’d like to take you for lunch today. Would you consider it?”

  She laughed. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

  “Never. I’m an Israeli. We don’t give up.”

  She laughed even louder. “Touché,” she said. “That’s the truest statement I’ve ever heard.”

  “You look Sephardic, are you?”

  “Yes, I am a Sephardic Jew of Spanish descent.”

  “So am I…”

  “I can tell. Your dark features sort of give it away,” she said.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

  “Only men who want to get into my pants.”

  He was shocked by the boldness of her answer. Elan was at a loss for words. He just stared at her.

  Nina laughed again. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? That is what you want.”

&nb
sp; “I can’t say I don’t. But it’s not all I want. I want to get to know you,” Elan said, and he meant it. This girl was different. She was, well, she was fascinating.

  “I won’t go to lunch with you today.”

  He looked at her, disappointed.

  “But…”

  Elan hung on her every word.

  “I will…allow you to take me to dinner tonight. I will expect that, if you want to see me again, you will take me somewhere nice and then behave like a perfect gentleman. If you find it too difficult to be on your best behavior, then it will be our first and last date,” Nina said, looking up into his eyes.

  Was there such a thing as a black star? Her eyes sparkled like the stars, but they were as black as the night. She was mesmerizing.

  “I will be on my best behavior. I promise.” He bowed slightly in mock servitude.

  “Good. I’ll give you my address, and you can pick me up at eight.”

  “Yes, princess,” he said, smiling.

  “And, Elan…be on time.”

  He laughed. What a bold woman.

  Elan made reservations at the finest restaurant in Tel Aviv. It was above his price range, but he wanted to show this girl that he had class and sophistication.

  He arrived at Nina’s apartment at exactly five minutes before eight. She invited him in. He was surprised to see that she still lived with her parents. It was not a fancy place. In fact, from what he could see, the family was lower-middle class at best. Nina looked lovely. She wore a simple, fitted, black dress, just an inch above her knees, and a single strand of pearls. Her usually wild hair was tamed into a sleek knot at the nape of her slender neck.

  “This is Elan,” she said to her parents. He works with me.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Elan said.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Nina said. “I won’t be too late,” she told her mother and then bent to kiss her cheek.

  Elan wasn’t sure what to say as they drove to the restaurant. It wasn’t like him to be at such a loss for words. There was an awkward, uncomfortable silence.

  “Do you like American music?” he asked, thinking he might turn on the radio.

  “Not particularly.” Damn, this girl was difficult.

  When they arrived at the restaurant, Elan jumped out of the car to open Nina’s door. It had been years since he’d done that for any woman. She got out, and he followed her inside. They were seated by a window overlooking the street. She didn’t pay any attention to what he ordered, and she didn’t ask him to order for her. In fact, she ordered the most expensive dish on the menu.

  Hmm, she doesn’t like me, Elan thought. She doesn’t think much of me at all. He’d heard that if a woman ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, it meant that she didn’t care if her date liked her or not. But instead of being discouraged, Nina’s inconsiderate behavior only drove Elan’s desire to make this woman want him.

  “You’re a lot older than me. Maybe, something like fifteen years?”

  She saw the worried look on his face, and then she laughed again. “Don’t worry so much, Elan Amsel. It’s okay. I like older men. They know what they want. Not like the boys I’ve dated who are wishy-washy mama’s boys,” she said.

  “Well, I’m glad you like older men. Then perhaps I might have a chance?” He didn’t tell her, but he was actually seventeen years older than she was.

  She laughed. “Who knows?” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll have to see.”

  She was clever and witty. The banter kept him on his toes. But when the food arrived, and he saw her tiny, delicate hands as she held the fork, his heart ached. What was it about this small-boned, big-haired girl that touched something deep inside of him?

  “I’d like to ask you a serious question.”

  “Already, Elan? You want to get serious already?” She smiled and winked at him.

  “No, I mean, yes…”

  “Wait a minute…now I thought you weren’t wishy-washy.” She giggled.

  “I wanted to know…why you, such a pretty young girl, would want to join Mossad? It’s such a dangerous job.”

  “Yes, well,” she said, and her face suddenly grew very serious. Her eyes met his and held the stare. “I am an Israeli. For me, life is always going to be dangerous.”

  He nodded. “Yes, but Mossad will only make it more so…”

  She sat looking at him silently for several minutes. Then she began to speak:

  “Four years ago, my sister and I were supposed to meet at an outdoor café to have a quick lunch. She had called me earlier that day to tell me that she had a surprise, and she wanted to tell me in person. We were going to meet at twelve-thirty. The restaurant was in the middle of town, so it was very busy. She said that if she could, she would try to get there early and get a table, so we wouldn’t have to wait.

  I had an appointment earlier that morning for physical therapy on my shoulder and arm. I had hurt them when I fell off my bike, and I’d been going to a therapist. My therapist was late that day. It was unusual for her to be late. But because she was not on time, I was running late to meet my sister.

  I was rushing through town, first on a bus, then on foot, trying to get to the restaurant when I heard all kinds of noise and commotion. There was a loud, thundering roar that filled the street. People were everywhere, running in every direction. I had no idea what was going on. I grabbed the sleeve of a man as he tried to race by me, and I asked him what was happening. He said that there was a bombing at a café right on the main street. I ran as fast as I could toward the café where I knew my sister was waiting, but it was too late. She was blown to pieces along with over a hundred other people. If I had been ten minutes earlier, I would have been one of those people.

  I stood on the street feeling as if I would faint from the smoke, and I kept calling out my sister’s name as if she could hear me. No one stopped to look at me. They were all too terrified. I finally found what was left of her body. I screamed until I fell to my knees and cried. Nobody came to help me, no one at all. There was nothing else I could do, so I picked myself up and with chills running down my back, I walked to the bus stop and went home.

  The following day I found out what the surprise was that she had wanted to tell me. Her boyfriend had been notified that she was dead by the police. He called our house. He wanted to help with the shiva. When he told me that they had just gotten engaged, I knew right away that it was the surprise that she was going to tell me.”

  “My God,” Elan said.

  “Yes.” Nina nodded her head, a sad expression in her dark eyes. “And from that moment, I knew that I wanted to be a part of Mossad. I decided then that I was willing to risk my life to protect the people of Israel. I didn’t see combat when I was in the IDF, but once I finished my term, I went back and worked hard to pass the special training.” She smiled, but the sparkle had left her eyes. “And so that brings me to right now. And here I am, sitting with you and having dinner.” She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s it. That’s my story.”

  When Elan was with a woman, his mind was always on sex. But here with Nina, he didn’t think at all about seducing her. He reached out and took her hand to comfort her, never thinking that she might get the wrong idea. “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  “Yes, so am I. Anyway, let’s not talk about sad things.” She pulled her hand away. “So tell me, Elan Amsel, what’s your story? Why are you in Mossad?”

  “I’m not sure what you want to know. After that I was married to an American girl for a while. It didn’t work out, and I joined Mossad.”

  “That’s it?”

  “I suppose I always knew I belonged working in service to Israel in some capacity. I love this country, and I love our people. When I was called up to fight in the Six-Day War, it triggered something inside of me, and I knew that I wanted to join Mossad.”

  “You had to retrain?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t mind. It felt good to get back into shape. I served a lot of time in the a
ir force, much more than one term. And even then, I was always interested in special ops. So for me, Mossad felt like the right choice.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, nodding her head.

  When Elan walked Nina to the door of her apartment building, he leaned over to kiss her goodnight. She gently covered his lips with her palm.

  “Not on the first date,” she whispered, and her voice was so breathy and soft that he felt himself getting an erection. He was embarrassed. It was unlike him, but Elan was afraid that she would notice the bulge in his pants and start laughing at him, so he turned and left quickly.

  The next day, Nina did not come to work. Elan kept watching the door to the office wondering where she was. By the end of the day, he was distraught. Had he done something wrong? He wanted to call her, but he didn’t have the number. If he asked for her number at the office, everyone would question why he wanted to contact her. Elan wasn’t ready to share his feelings for Nina with anyone. These things were best kept to oneself. That way, if things didn’t work out, he wouldn’t have to bear the shame.

  Elan went home from work that evening angry with himself for allowing Nina’s absence to bother him but discounted the idea of going to her house, to check on her. Elan didn’t want to screw this up by appearing overly needy. He knew firsthand how that affected him from experience with his former girlfriends. He was too upset to eat, so he poured a drink and then another, hoping it would help him fall asleep. It didn’t. He lay awake most of the night and finally drifted off into a fitful but deep sleep at four o’clock in the morning.

  It was a little after six o’clock in the morning when Elan’s phone rang. The sound of the phone shook him awake. He cleared his throat and took a sip of water from the glass by the bed, not wanting to sound like he just woke up. Then he picked up the receiver.

  “Amsel. It’s Harari. Get your ass out of bed and get into the office. Some fucking terrorist group has broken into the sleeping quarters of the Israeli athletes at the Olympics in Munich. The terrorists have taken the athletes hostage.”