by Ran Weber
I tried to push his pistol hand. He fired a bullet that hit the wall behind me. He raised his pistol wielding hand, intending to strike at me. He looked like a monster, the most terrible thing I’d met. The dim light intensified the experience. I felt like I wasn’t facing the Binyamin I knew, but a personification of pure evil.
“I’ll kill you,” he shouted, raving like a lunatic, “I’ll kill you all. You’re all going to pay.”
“What do you want from me, Binyamin?”
“You came here to kill me. What do I want? Playing the innocent lamb, eh? You came here to kill me. Rami sent you, didn’t he?”
I didn’t answer.
“He wants to poke me full of holes, just like the fat man?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Call the fat man, see if he answers. I guess Rami’s hunting season has started,” his eyes blazed with fire. “Rami the liar, stabbing me in the back and letting me bleed. He was very into it. What happened? He wants all the glory to himself, or is it a matter of money? But don’t you worry, soon, everything will be good with the world, I’ll see to it myself. If no one else sees to it, then I will. Pretty soon, we’ll have world peace.”
“World peace?” I shuddered. “What peace? You are trying to destroy the world. You will help Iran send a nuclear missile, tens of thousands of people could be killed? You call that peace? It’s pure evil!”
He waved the pistol at me, then said quietly, “What can you do, Yoavi. Sometimes, you have to choose death. Not that it’s the best thing in the world, but which do you prefer? A few tens of thousands of people, or saving humanity? I’m going to bring it, Yoavi.”
“Bring what?”
“The war. The Gog and Magog war. And the Messiah will closely follow, but in the meantime…” Binyamin smiled a terrible smile and pointed at a printed picture on the wall. It depicted an Iranian nuclear weapon, bearing the word “The End-Time,” written with a red marker.
I froze.
“That’s my baby. The Iranians don’t know I call it that, but that’s my baby.”
“How dare you?” I asked. I glanced at the remote Binyamin had tossed next to me, two and a half minutes. “Killing so many people?”
“Me? What about you, didn’t you come here to kill me?
“I was sent by the government of Israel.” I pointed the pistol between his eyes.
“I was sent by the people of Israel,” he said, his eyes blazing.
I burned with anger. All I could see in him was evil, a pure evil I had never encountered before. Everything turned upside-down. From the most wonderful, deep and sensitive man I’d ever met, he had turned into the worst hateful enemy I could imagine. How could he have deceived me?
“Don’t believe the lie,” said Binyamin and stuck his pistol under my jaw. I began to sweat.
“You’re a liar!” I shouted. “Everything here is a lie.”
“That’s not true, it’s just that you believe Rami.”
“At least he was right about that,” I screamed. “You…”
“No, he wasn’t. That murderer.” His pistol shook in his hand. “How can you believe that murderer? Yoav, you have to wake up from your fantasies. You have to!”
“Stop it. The game between us is over, Binyamin.” I felt my heart shrinking, I felt a chill fill it, making me completely detached. That was his end. Enough games. The remote showed a minute and a half remaining.
“Who do you believe?” Binyamin shouted madly, “Rami or me? Who do you believe?”
Who do I believe? I looked at him. There wasn’t even a single spark of goodness in him. He was a monster. Suddenly, his words echoed in my mind. “Even someone who is completely wicked, you need to search and find any little bit of good.” Perhaps he wasn’t evil? Perhaps I was simply… I felt sweat drenched on my forehead. I mustn’t believe anyone here, I thought. Sixty more seconds and this would all be over. I’ll jump outside at the very last moment.
My heart kicked against my chest. I had no idea what was going on. I knew that Rami was a liar, what about Binyamin?
A terrible struggle was taking place inside me. In my eyes, I saw Binyamin as the embodiment of evil, all the facts had indicated that he was evil. But in my heart… in my heart something else was taking place. I love him, I thought, I believe him. I couldn’t take it. Yoav, stop being soft, I said to myself, be a man and do what you have to do. “You mustn’t rely on what your eyes see, you have to close them and remember the purpose,” I heard Binyamin’s voice echo in my head.
I closed my eyes, distracting myself from everything around me. My pistol remained aimed at Binyamin. The car bomb was about to hit us in less than a minute. My entire life flashed through my mind. My heart was screaming inside me: Believe! Believe! It’s real. He is not evil, he is simply in pain, he’s burning up from the inside and it’s pushing him over the edge.
I suddenly understood everything. A flash of a realization coming from somewhere else spread through me. I looked at Binyamin and everything seemed different. His pain, his uncontainable pain, was completely blinding him. He couldn’t see, he wasn’t aware of what was going on with him, but he was a good person. Definitely insane, but good. “And yet a little while, and the wicked is no more; yea, thou shalt look well at his place, and he is not…”
The sweat poured into my eyes and mixed with tears. “Stop blaming the whole world. It won’t do you any good, Binyamin, she’s not coming back. It’s over. No one can bring her back to you. You take revenge on the wrong people. Get out of here, save yourself and make a fresh start. We still have less than a minute.”
He collapsed and sat by the table, the pistol dropped from his hands. “I have no future. It’s over. I’ve failed. I’m not getting out of here. You go, run away. You’re a good person.” His eyes softened. “I have nothing left. Go on, get out of here, stupid.”
I sat beside him and placed my pistol on the table. “I’m not going out of here without you.” My heart pounded wildly. This was insane. I didn’t know what would happen, but I couldn’t possibly leave him.
“You’re insane!” he shouted, “save yourself, start a new life. I have nothing left.”
I closed my eyes and waited for the blast. He was right, there was nothing left.
I felt him grabbing me. He swung me onto his back and carried me up the stairs. I patted his back to indicate that he should release me and we both ran quickly outside the house, already hearing the screech of tires. We ran as far as we could, then stopped and looked back, just as the autonomous car hurtled and smashed into the house. A deafening blast sounded as the explosives destroyed every trace of my laptop, Binyamin’s text and the house.
92
“So where is he?” asked Rami impatiently.
“I’ve no idea,” Ehud admitted. “Evaporated somewhere.”
“That kid is getting on my nerves,” said Rami and slammed his fist against the wall. “Are you sure Binyamin was killed in the explosion?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then you’d better find out, Ehud.”
Ehud hung up the phone, then stated at it and looked at the list of unanswered calls.
93
Death Valley, Baker, East California
The view opened up before our eyes as the car finished climbing up the last slope and started descending into the desert. The setting sun made the vast sandy mountains wear a reddish color. Clean, cloudless skies stared at us from above and Binyamin sped and squeezed the gas pedal of his battered pickup truck. He glanced behind his sunglasses with a smile and said, “Old, but still going strong.” Who was he referring to? The car or himself?
Until that day, I shifted between knowledge and ignorance, but that day, I felt that I didn’t know anything. Just who is Binyamin, I wondered, the most evil person in the world who wants to destroy it, or a pure soul that only wants to
do good? Everything got mixed up in my head. The sound of Binyamin’s cell phone ringing brought me back to reality.
“Yes, cutie,” he answered. “No, stay with Donnie. We’re not going to be in the area for a few days. Yes.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Yoav too. All right. I can’t talk right now. I’ll contact you soon.” He hung up the call and tossed the phone out the window. It smashed on the hot asphalt road leading to Las Vegas.
I looked at him with astonishment and he smiled again. “You think we’re not being followed now? I’d recommend for you to get rid of your phone as soon as possible, or at least take out the battery. Nowadays, you can be tracked down even if your cellphone is off.”
I quickly took out the cell phone battery and put it far from the device itself, as if it would want to swallow it back. I couldn’t take the risk, I assumed the whole world was after me.
“You’re right,” said Binyamin and straightened his gaze at the desert. “This is really what is going on.”
“What?” I asked.
“I’m not a mind reader,” he answered. “Yes, they’re looking for you. Everyone is looking for you – Schetritt, Rami, even the Iranians. Ali won’t forgive the humiliation that easily. Smile a little, Yoavi, don’t look so grim.”
I took out the pistol and pointed it at him. “When are you going to start talking and explain the madness going on here?”
He continued to drive as usual, then simply plucked the pistol from my hand and tossed it in the backseat. “That’s not funny, Yoavi.”
“It really isn’t funny! You’re trying to destroy the world and talk to me about being grim? Tell me, are you insane?”
“No, but that’s not what we’re dealing with here.”
“What are we dealing with, then?”
“We’re saving the world.”
“How do you intend to save the world, by killing ten-thousand or a hundred-thousand innocent people in Tel Aviv?”
“Take it easy, Superman. I had a great plan back there, until you came along and ruined it. Now let’s see what will happen.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Despite what everyone thinks, the system doesn’t really open for five hours. There are more codes. I’ll explain it to you yet, but there are other codes that transmit after that and the system closes. Eventually, the system opens for a few minutes, enough time for the Iranians to launch the missile and for Israel to respond. I was in on it with Norman Watts, even the Americans don’t know about this.”
I gulped. “Excuse me?”
“Tell me,” he said and took off his sunglasses, “do you think I’m stupid?”
I didn’t answer.
“Do you think I’m some sort of crazy rookie?”
“Hmm…”
“Do you think I don’t hurt inside for every Jew? That I really think the blood of a Jew who lives in Hebron or Jerusalem is blue and the blood of a Jew who lives in Tel Aviv is… I don’t know… yellow?” He banged his fist on the steering wheel. “It’s a crazy world. Listen, Yoavi, sweetie, I’ve been planning this move for years. I never planned on hurting even a single Israeli. I put all the soldiers in their proper places, I thought of every little detail, it was all perfectly planned before you came along and ruined everything. Everything!”
“The End-Time Foretellers?”
He didn’t answer.
“It was all a set-up, Yoavi. A bluff, luft gesheft. There’s no anarchist group numbering dozens or hundreds of people. There’s no exciting worldwide conspiracy. It’s just me, me and a handful of other nutcases. We came together for various individual reasons. Each for his own interests. Me, I know exactly what my interest is – saving the world. For some, it was a matter of money or honor. What do I care, so long as their interests are compatible with mine?”
I cringed. I felt anger filling every fiber of my being.
“Why did you have a picture of me there? Was I also a part of your evil plan? Don’t you have a heart?”
“Ohh… I have a heart. And yes, you were also a part of my plan. Sorry if you feel manipulated, but that’s just reality. I’d rather call it guided, not manipulated. After all, nobody forced you to do anything every step of the way.”
“What?”
“You heard me. No one was ever forced to join the End-Time Foretellers, it had to be your free choice. That’s the only way and that’s what this is all about.”
“Nobody forced me? What are you talking about? You know exactly how Rami and the fat guy forced me to join this mission.” How dare he? I belonged to the End-Time Foretellers? The terrible organization trying to destroy the world?
Binyamin smiled and nodded. “So this wasn’t your choice?”
“No!”
“You didn’t agree to do it all of your own free will?”
“I definitely didn’t!”
“But it really was your choice,” said Binyamin. “I can see it on your face, I can see exactly what you’re thinking!”
I thought for a moment. He was right, it really was my choice.
94
Farhan’s Office, Westwood, Los Angeles
“I’ve no idea,” said Rami.
“Listen, now’s not the time for games,” said Farhan and began to tap the surface of the table with his pen. “We’ve invested a lot of money in this and we need this game to end with a clear victory. I don’t care who your friends are or who you’re working for. I need results, get it?”
“I get it,” said Rami. “They just vanished on me, I can’t understand how.”
“Who?” asked Farhan.
“The agent I sent and Binyamin.”
“Binyamin Wolf? Isn’t that nutcase dead?”
Rami looked out the window as he answered, “Apparently not. Unfortunately. I was convinced Yoav had taken him out, it would have made things much easier for all of us.”
Farhan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Do you realize what this means?”
A silence followed. Rami dared not speak.
“It means,” said Farhan, “that we both might be an assassination target now. If he passes on the information to the feds, we’re done for. You’d better get going.”
95
Nevada – California Border Area
There was a gas station to our right. Binyamin slowed down and turned toward it. He parked outside the small diner beside it, went out of the car and motioned for me to join him. After two hours of driving, it felt good to stretch my legs a little.
I looked at the diner, just another boring American roadhouse. “The Desert Eagle,” a banal name for a mediocre roadhouse. Everything in America looks more or less the same in my eyes these days. You arrive in some dump in Nebraska and see the same things you saw in some other dump in Kentucky. It’s like a plague here, diners, McDonalds, Starbucks, the land of endless franchises and duplications.
We went inside the diner. The waitress smiled at Binyamin and went to the kitchen.
“What is this?” I asked, “some sort of code language?”
“Something like that,” he said. “Sit down, everything will be all right. We’re safe here. This place is kosher, even though you won’t see it written in bold letters anywhere. I know the owner.”
I sat in a red leather armchair and looked at the menu. Binyamin took it from my hands. “What do you need it for?”
The waitress came back with a steaming coffee pot, two bagels and two plates with scrambled eggs. She placed them in front of us and returned with a small milk carton bearing the sticker, “Milk of Israel.” I rubbed my eyes with amazement and Binyamin said, “wash your hands.”
I started eating and gradually calmed down with each bite. I almost managed to forget about all the chaos in my life and enjoyed the coffee and the bagel. “Say,” I asked while stretching myself in the armchair, “isn’t this all supposed t
o end differently?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, the hero saves the world, gets married with the heroine and then the end titles come.”
“Oh,” said Binyamin and winked at me, “it ain’t over till the fat lady sings.”
I started thinking for a moment and remembered, Rami, the fat guy, Ehud, the Iranians, Schetritt… “Schetritt.” I said finally.
“Oh,” he said and bit into his bagel, “you owe him money, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said and buried my face in my hands, “something like 45 grand and some bonuses he’d paid me.”
“All right, that’s nothing.”
“What?”
“That’s nothing compared to something much bigger you owe him, his honor. He came out of this whole affair with the Iranians looking like a pushover, and you know who he really blames for it.”
96
Goodsprings, Nevada
We continued to drive deep into the Nevada steppes. Everything looked so different. I had gotten so used to Los Angeles that I forgot what vast expanses America has. One could drive for hours on end through wide-open areas.
We drove for an additional hour and a half; we passed next to a cattle farm and finally parked next to a secluded wooden hut situated next to a barren ravine. Binyamin held up a backpack and handed it to me.
“Where did you get that backpack from?”
“Take it inside the house. I’ll explain later,” he told me with a smile. It was a large 80-liter travel backpack. When we entered the hut, Binyamin motioned for me to bring it up to the second floor. There were two rooms there and we entered the left one. Binyamin asked me to open the backpack. It was filled with my clothes. “What’s this?”
“I thought we might go out for a long trip, so I packed some things.”
“What?”
“I realized everything was about to end, one way or another. I preferred for the Iranians to get the code and fire the missile, then the system will start working and no harm will befall Israel, but you apparently preferred for it to take longer. Perhaps it’s simpler to say that in retrospect, it just wasn’t God’s will for this to happen. Now we must find an alternate plan.”