Ari sat immobile and said not a word. Finally, he stood up from the edge of the bed and walked around to Leah’s side. As he leaned over her, he said, “We Israelis are alone in the world, my love. Most of the globe’s population would be perfectly happy if one morning they woke up and there was no more Israel — no more Jews. I have fought for our beleaguered little nation as my father did before me. We can’t stand with heads bowed or go quietly — not again. We have a right to safety, Leah. I could not watch that bastard kill more people, spouting that it is all for the sake of so-called Occupied Palestine — when it’s just one more excuse to butcher our people. And the world won’t raise a finger to protect us, and they will blame our country for all of it. The world shows over and over again that they won’t save us. We have to protect ourselves.
“I will tell you just this once, Leah. There is no way I will ever allow anyone to hurt you, Esther, my family, or my country. I will not discuss this further, but just know when it is necessary, you have my word that I will ensure our safety.”
Leah nodded as tears rolled down her cheeks. She had always suspected that Ari’s involvement in the security of their country was more than a desk job. She had never asked, but now she knew. Taking a deep breath and pulling herself together, she looked at her husband and saw him as if for the first time. “Darling Ari, I understand. When I saw the look on your face this morning when those men came into the café, I knew something was terribly wrong. Even then, I was afraid to think about it, let alone ask questions. Now I know, and honestly on one hand, I wish I didn’t, but on the other, I am so, so proud of you. Darling, you have my support and I know you do what you do for the good of all of us.”
Ari walked back to his side of the bed and sighed. “Don’t be concerned, Leah. You’re safe, I promise. The people that have to be afraid are those terrorists. My friends and I know who they are and even where they live. In Ramallah or Damascus. In Beirut or Paris. Even Los Angeles or Buenos Aires. They need to be very afraid. Now, enough of this talk! We have a long day of sightseeing and museum tours Esther has arranged for tomorrow. I don’t want her to be disappointed, and we need the rest. Let’s get some sleep and have some fun tomorrow.” Ari turned out the lights and shut off the TV. Soon he and Leah were fast asleep in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER 19
Tel Aviv, one week later
Their Vienna vacation over, Ari, Leah, and Esther were back in Tel Aviv. The weather that day was stunning, with iris blue skies, a balmy temperature, and the vibrancy that is unique to Israel. Leah had prepared a traditional Israeli breakfast of shakshouka (a poached egg and tomato dish), Israeli salad (with cucumbers, tomato, and mint), fruit, hummus, cheese, lox, special thick yogourt, and of course, coffee.
“Ari, my dear husband, what are you plans for the day? Esther and I are going to take your mother for a girls’ day out in Tel Aviv. We’re going shopping and have lunch, then we’ll visit the new exhibit at the art museum. It will be a nice excursion for Esther before she goes back to school.”
Ari considered this news for a second or two. “I am going to meet one of my old army buddies for lunch, and then I hope to go back to his office and apply for a new position at his company.” This surprised Leah; she did not know that Ari was considering changing jobs. “When did you decide to change your job?”
“After that episode in Vienna, the company suggested I come in from being a field sales consultant and take up a head office position responsible for training, but I really don’t think I’m suited to the burdensome politics of office life. I realize how worried you are and it’s time to make a change.”
He knew he was only placating Leah. Ever since their hotel room conversation, he recognized that any time he had to go away on a business trip, she would fear for his safe return. He hoped this little subterfuge, letting her believe he was shifting to a desk role, would put her at ease.
Leah walked around the table and placed her hands on her husband’s shoulders, whispering in his ear as she nuzzled him. “Ari, you have always been good at what you do. Whatever you decide, just be happy. I am sure you will find your feet in any new position.”
Ari was thankful that Leah had abandoned any more discussion regarding the assassination in the Café Schottenring. Although he knew she wasn’t taking his work lightly, she had quickly come to grips with his profession. With that encouragement and unconditional acceptance, Ari stood, hugged his beautiful wife, kissed Esther, and left for his meeting.
CHAPTER 20
The 9 building, Netanya, Israel
In reality, Ari was not going to have lunch with an old army buddy. His meeting was with the newly appointed director of 9, Benyamin Nadel. Nadel had been Director of the Military Intelligence Directorate, AMAN, until his retirement from the military two years ago. Recent changes in the senior ranks of Mossad and 9 had led to the surprise nomination of Nadel to the position of director.
Ari had received a coded message to come in for an important meeting. He was surprised, since once he came in from a mission, he was typically allowed to debrief and then take some time off. Because his vacation in Vienna had so suddenly turned into a full mission, he had immediately been debriefed when he returned two days before.
Being summoned so soon after his Vienna debriefing was not protocol. Ari figured there had to be a major operation in planning stages that required his presence.
Within 9, the director was known simply as Macha. Ari was ushered into Macha’s spartan office by an attractive young woman, Captain Netta Levi.
She acted as receptionist for the general office when in fact she was a first-class analyst. Netta’s team was a group of five young men and women who gathered reams of raw data; under her leadership, they provided Macha and field operatives such as Ari with the most up to date intelligence available.
Also seated in front of Macha was David (Dov) Horowitz. David was a Sayeret Matkal commando senior officer, who had a reputation within the IDF secret forces for being a fearless leader. Horowitz was tall, 6’2”, and powerfully built, with massive shoulders and forearms. He had successfully played American football at Ohio State University for two years and then had been keenly sought after by many NFL teams because of his speed and physicality. A few years later, he led his Sayeret command on a number of highly classified missions in Gaza, Iran, Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq. Each country was harbouring several less jihadi terrorists as a direct result of Dov’s actions. Ari knew of Dov by reputation and had met him briefly several years before, when he and Dov had participated in a joint training exercise.
“Ari come sit down,” suggested Director Nadel. “Major Horowitz and I wish to discuss a situation with you. As you know, the PM has been fierce in voicing his concerns surrounding Iranian nuclear ambitions. He is distressed over US reluctance to let us cut those ambitions short and angry at the duplicity of the American president for entering into secret negotiations with the Iranians. The nuclear deal cobbled together by the US and other powers this year, is still, in his opinion, a terrible deal — not only for Israel, but also for the world at large.”
Macha looked to Dov and nodded for him to continue.
“Here is the thing, Lazarus, the reason we are here. Whether the Americans like it or not, we have no choice with all that is happening in the Middle East but to cut off, once and for all, Iran’s path to the Bomb. The USA is getting a new president next year. If Iran remains free to build a viable nuclear bomb, however long it takes them, we know with Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Palestinians as their proxies they will use it on Israel and Saudi Arabia. We are in this; we don’t have a choice.”
Macha interjected, “The PM is horrified that the US president could even consider such an accommodation with the mullahs.”
Dov continued, “PM Mendelsohn believes that the hubris and arrogance of the US leader is so great that he cares more for his immediate legacy and standing in the Muslim world than the safety and security of his own citizens, much less Israel and Europe. To
me it is fucking incredible that he cannot understand how dangerous those pieces of shit in Tehran are. They have indoctrinated close to eighty million people against us and the US. They are trying to build nuclear weapons with the required delivery systems to reach us, and that eloquent, elitist prick in the White House wants to make nice and play patty-cake with them.”
Ari could sense the rage and passion in every word Dov spoke.
“I have proposed an operation to Macha that I believe has a good chance of success,” Dov said. “It will be as effective as our air ops that destroyed the Iraqi and Syrian nuclear facilities in the past.”
Macha studied both men, paying close attention to Ari’s face as he listened in respectful silence to Dov laying out the plan.
“Lazarus, I am convinced the Iranians are expecting us to hit them the way we did in Iraq and Syria at Oswirik and Kibar. They have beefed up their air defences with the aid of Russia and their guards are training constantly to be prepared for any kind of attack. We have done our due diligence and we believe that Israel has no alternative but to hit those bastards hard. We must obliterate their nuclear infrastructure and, more importantly, their seat of government. The Ayatollah and the Council of Clerics have got to go, before they can deploy their fucking bomb.”
As he spoke, Dov was pacing furiously back and forth across Macha’s office. Ari studied him with intensity that Macha noticed with concern, but he held back from making any comments.
Dov laid out the overall concept of his idea. “We will carry out a deception with air assets to get their attention in the wrong place. We can use ELINT assets of the IDF Air Force and Navy to shut down their military communications just as we did in Syria. At the same time, we insert my Sayeret Matkal Special Forces to destroy the nuclear facilities.”
Dov continued the mission outline for another fifteen minutes, then sat back and stared at Ari, awaiting a response.
Slowly, Ari stood up walked over to the darkened window. All the windows had been painted with a sound-reflecting material that prevented any microphones from picking up conversations within the premises and any outside surveillance. Their current location was one of the most secret installations in Israel. Ari sipped his water slowly, then walked back to Macha’s desk and placed his hands firmly on the surface. He leaned over the desk and focused his blue steely gaze first on Macha, then on Dov and back again.
“Is this a politically sanctioned op, or is it one of your off-the-books schemes?”
“It’s sanctioned,” Macha responded plainly.
“By whom?”
“That is above your pay grade for now. Just know that it is sanctioned. I have accepted the directive. You’ve heard the bones of the operation from Dov. Now I want the two of you to go away. For the next month, you are to plan this operation down to the last detail so the only conclusion will be no more nuclear threat from Iran. Is that clear? You can have any resources you require, but all requests for supplies, human resources, and special intelligence must be directed only to me. I will ensure that this office supports you by all means possible.”
Ari remained standing, staring intently at the ceiling without moving. Finally, he turned to Dov and silently nodded his assent, and then said to Macha, “When do we commence?”
CHAPTER 21
Dov Horowitz’s grandparents, Mayer and Ruth Horowitz, like Ephraim and Miriam, had survived the horrors of the Nazi extermination camps. In the Horowitz’s case, they had been incarcerated in Stutthof, Poland. They also survived by sheer determination to bring the injustices of the Nazis in Poland to light. When the Russians had liberated Stutthof, Mayer realized that he and Ruth had to get as far away as they could from the Soviets. He quickly saw that the Russians were not too concerned about the health and welfare of several thousand starving Jews. They were much more concerned about conquering Poland and Germany.
Once they were able to leave the camp and before the Russians set up a new camp, Mayer and Ruth and other like-minded survivors quickly made their way to Gdansk. From there, they were able to gain humanitarian passage on a ferry provided by the Allies. Once in Hamburg, they were in the British sector of occupied Germany. There, the British Red Cross and military had established a displaced persons camp. The DP camps housed survivors of the extermination camps from Poland, who were fleeing from the Russians and the Poles.
Mayer and Ruth were eventually documented and processed into one of the camps near Menden, a small town not far from Dusseldorf. After spending almost two years in the Menden DP camp, they were able to leave and made their way to Palestine in 1947. Dov’s grandfather, Mayer, was a giant among men, both physically and mentally. Recognizing that the Arab world was about to repeat another Holocaust, he had joined the nascent IDF and was soon selected for subsequent leadership roles. Because of his imposing size and razor-sharp intellect, Mayer attracted both support from his commanders and loyalty from the men he led.
During the heavy fighting in Jerusalem, Mayer was trying to prevent the Jordanians from capturing the whole city. It was because of his efforts in multiple locations that the Israelis were able to hold on to West Jerusalem. Without much food or water, and dwindling ammunition, Mayer exhorted his tiny group to attack. One of his biggest regrets was that he and the small but ferocious band of defenders of Jerusalem had to cede the Temple and the Kotel (Western Wall) to the Jordanians. The Jordanian occupation lasted for 19 years until Israeli troops chased the Jordanians back across the Jordan River in 1967, during the Six-Day War, liberating the occupied Old City of East Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria.
Mayer forever held a deep-seated animosity toward the British. Their Foreign Office had always been against the establishment of the State of Israel. The overt support they provided to the Jordanian military enraged him. Without armaments and the leadership of a rabid anti-Semitic British commanding officer known as Glubb Pasha, the Jordanians would never have taken East Jerusalem.
Soon the opposing forces began to recognize the “eimlaq” (giant) who was terrifying simple peasant Arab soldiers. When the cry was heard, “The Eimlaq is coming!” most turned and ran with good reason. Mayer gave no quarter and expected none. He was ruthless in his defence of his homeland, killing any Jordanian soldier he found on sight, often with a knife or his bare hands to conserve bullets. He refused to consider taking prisoners. Any Jordanian who surrendered to his group was killed.
On one occasion, Eimlaq caused quite a stir because his group captured two British officers assigned to Glubb Pasha’s Army. If one of his senior commanders had not interceded, Mayer was prepared to execute them. Once he captured them, he couldn’t help but despise them for their arrogance and venomous attitude that reeked of anti-Semitism.
The senior officer, a captain, addressed Mayer. “My dear fellow, you really cannot believe you and your ragtag band of mercenaries will succeed. I mean gosh, how could you?”
Mayer just glared at him. The English captain continued, “You do realize that this little brouhaha will all be over very soon. Of course, Whitehall will ignore that ridiculous UN resolution. We will have our chaps back here sorting you silly buggers out and putting you all in your place in no time. You Jews really have no rights here.”
Mayer drew himself up to his full height and stood towering over the British captain. He spoke in a calm, low, raspy voice. “Listen to me, you arrogant piece of shit. The fucking Nazis didn’t intimidate me. For damn sure a little pussy like you doesn’t. I am waiting for orders regarding what to do with you. You are lucky, very lucky, that I was given a direct order not to shoot you instantly. Now with all respect, Captain, shut the fuck up.” Mayer was seething, barely containing his lack of patience.
Both British officers visibly paled, and the junior lieutenant began to tremble as he realized his survival was hanging in the balance. He was well acquainted with the reputation of the legendary Eimlaq.
Fortunately for them, the other senior commanders of the IDF did not want to create an incident that might alien
ate many supporters of Israel. Reluctantly, Mayer turned them over to a security detail that placed them in the Acre prison, under guard for their own protection.
After hostilities ended, they were shipped back to Britain, where the captain eventually became a member of Parliament and whose distasteful anti-Semitism was always on display, especially when the issue of Israel was up for debate.
Mayer set an example for the troops who followed him without fear or question. Most were either teens from Israel or survivors of the camps in Europe. They had little or no military training, but like Mayer, they each had an iron will to defend their homeland against all comers.
Under Mayer’s natural leadership, they quickly coalesced into a formidable fighting force. One legendary story about Mayer’s exploits involved a skirmish that took place near French Hill. Early one morning, a company of Jordanians accompanied by two armoured cars, advanced on a small group of Israeli defenders who had dug in across from an area of destroyed homes and a burned synagogue. Mayer had heard that they were coming under fire from the armoured vehicles and immediately took his platoon, such as it was, and hurried down the rubble-strewn street to assist. As he turned a corner, he caught a glimpse of the two vehicles, stationed on a slight rise, firing down on the Israelis. Quickly assessing the situation, Mayer signalled to his men to follow him. Taking a route where they were not visible to the Jordanians, he circled out, around, and back behind the two armoured cars, killing any Arabs they encountered as they closed in.
The End of Terror Page 7