The Last Israelis - an Apocalyptic, Military Thriller about an Israeli Submarine and a Nuclear Iran

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The Last Israelis - an Apocalyptic, Military Thriller about an Israeli Submarine and a Nuclear Iran Page 5

by Noah Beck


  “Wow,” Yoni exclaimed.

  “So the BBC committed two wrongs. First, they failed to credit us for being such a tolerant democracy that we allow the terrorist’s family to publicly praise his actions as heroic. And second, they falsely claimed that we demolished his house.”

  “That’s just evil,” Bao said.

  “Can you imagine if the families of the 2005 suicide terrorist attacks in London had set up public mourning tents?” Yisrael continued. “Would the UK even allow such a thing? And then, if the biggest Israeli news network falsely claimed that British authorities had demolished the houses of the terrorists?”

  “I never watch the BBC, so I didn’t see that report,” Yoni said. “But that’s about as flagrant as it gets.”

  “Yeah, so flagrant that the BBC later ‘clarified’ their report to correct the inaccuracy,” Yisrael replied. “So there’s little doubt about the BBC’s anti-Israel prejudice and how it could poison the minds of otherwise decent people in the UK to think the worst of our country.” The deputy captain was now quite certain that the risk of being revealed by Bao’s guest had passed; he thought to himself, “Yoni surely would have said something by now had he recognized me from that protest we were at.”

  Ambesah returned them to the original topic: “I still think it’s crazy that the universities there are boycotting cancer researchers like you just because they’re from Israel.”

  “It’s not just cancer researchers. But yes, it is crazy. Actually, it’s both absurd and ironic, if you think about it,” Yoni said. “The stated goal of these boycotts is to liberate the occupied territories and academics tend to be some of the most left-wing Israelis out there. They protest the occupation in a very public way with published editorials and other activities. I myself have attended anti-government protests in Israel to end the occupation.”

  “Yes, you have attended those protests – I saw you there with my own eyes,” Yisrael thought to himself in silent amusement. He rejoined the conversation: “So they’re effectively boycotting many people, including you, who are advocating the actual political goal that supposedly motivated their boycott,” he observed, playing up his ironic astonishment to strengthen the impression that he wasn’t in Yoni’s camp, pushing for the same political goal.

  “Exactly. But such contradictions apparently don’t interest these UK universities,” Yoni continued.

  “Of course they don’t. If you come from Israel, then you must be an evil occupier,” Bao interjected. “And obviously curing cancer is less important than the occupation.”

  “The best part will be if you actually cure cancer and then they’ll have to boycott your cure too,” Yisrael said, to the amusement of the group.

  “OK, enough about politics and curing cancer. It’s time to get this scientist some food,” Bao announced.

  “Sure. Good to meet you, Yoni,” Yisrael said.

  “Yeah, it was great talking,” Ambesah added. “Hope we can chat some more before we return to the sub.”

  “Great to meet you guys too.”

  Yisrael exhaled a sigh of relief. The risk of being discovered was over; even if Yoni later thought that he might have seen Yisrael at the protest, Yisrael’s behavior and statements would cast doubt on that recollection. It was a narrow escape but a successful one, the deputy captain thought to himself. He quietly resumed his jealous suspicions about his wife and Daniel.

  ****

  Bao and Yoni walked around the table trying to decide what to eat first. “Did you see all of these dishes? Persian, Druze, Indian. And some nationalities that I think the chefs must have invented before we arrived.”

  Yoni was impressed. “That was thoughtful of them to prepare Vietnamese food too.”

  “Yeah. But the funny thing is, I wouldn’t even know if it tastes like the real thing.” They each served themselves generous portions of the Vietnamese dishes and started eating, talking between bites.

  “I know…And, as I’ve told you before, that’s a shameful gap in your list of passport stamps.”

  “It’s a pretty limited list, thanks to my submarine schedule…Then again, if I could get a passport stamp for each country that the sub brought me near, it would be a pretty good list.”

  “I know. But still…You not having a stamp from Vietnam is just wrong on some basic level.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No, definitely. In fact, I just decided that we’re going to celebrate your return from this next mission with a trip there.”

  “Well, it is your turn to decide what our next trip is.”

  “Wow – you’re finally giving in? You’ve always resisted the idea.”

  “Because I know it’ll be an emotionally charged trip. But I do need to take that trip. It’s about time. And this food tastes pretty damn good. So I’m curious to try the real thing.”

  From the way that Yoni put his plate down on the table, Bao knew he was about to say something intense, so he was glad that nobody else was close enough to overhear.

  “So I gathered – from the way you introduced me – that nobody knows.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nobody here knows your true feelings for me.”

  “I said that you were a dear friend, didn’t I?”

  “Is that all I am to you: a dear friend? After three years of sharing the same bed and living together?”

  “Of course not. But…But I’m not comfortable coming out to the crew yet.”

  “Why not? Being openly gay is no big deal in the IDF.”

  “In most units, that’s true. But it’s a little different on a sub.”

  “Why should it matter?”

  “It’s hard to explain it to someone who’s never served on a sub. But it’s a small, closed space that I share with these men day and night for weeks on end. Some of these guys are pretty macho.”

  “Is that a euphemism for homophobic?”

  “No. I don’t mean that. I just mean that they might not feel like I was one of them or that they could bond with me – or stay bonded with me – in the same way.”

  “And do you really need to stay bonded with such people?”

  “Well, they’re sort of like family. Ship unity and harmony is really important, at least on some basic level. And there’s a decent chance that it could change people’s comfort levels.”

  “So you need to be uncomfortable so that everyone else can be comfortable?”

  “I wouldn’t say that I’m uncomfortable, Yoni. I’m fine. I have you. Maybe if I were single, I would feel more of a need to let everyone know, just in case there was another gay guy on the sub or something. But it’s not like that.”

  “I think you should be able to come out on the sub, even if you’re not single. Just on principle.”

  “You might be right, on principle. But I think it would create problems.”

  “Problems? Bao, if there was the slightest discrimination against you, the national media would back you up in a heartbeat. You know how liberal and gay-friendly they are.”

  “Yeah, and they could turn the incident into an embarrassing scandal for the IDF, which I don’t want.”

  “Why not, if it brings about change for the better? You could sue the IDF in court and you’d probably make civil rights history in the process. So you should feel empowered to be true to yourself.”

  “Yoni, I know all of that. But you’re missing the point. These guys are like my brothers – I have no better word to describe them. And I don’t feel any pressing need to come out right now. So I’m not about to start some unprovoked, high-profile campaign against them or the Navy in general. If I did that, do you think things would ever be the same for me on the sub, even if I win in court and in the media?”

  Yoni stood quietly for a moment. “Maybe I’m really just trying to get you out of the submarine force,” he said, playfully.

  “Don’t think I haven’t struggled with the issue before. But I’m at peace with the status quo.”

  “The
guys you just introduced me to seem really nice, so for all you know they might tolerate it well.”

  “Those guys probably would. But you haven’t met everyone.”

  “The funny thing is, some of your sub-mates may suspect that you’re gay anyway.”

  “Just because I’m still single at thirty-three?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve developed some good stories about failed relationships, thanks to what I’ve heard from my straight friends over the years.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you that you have to lie?”

  “It does a little. But it’s a small price to pay. At least for now. Please try to understand my position.”

  “OK…I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard on the issue. I just –”

  “I know. I’m not saying I won’t come out at some point. I’m just not sure when I should do it. And in the meantime, things are fine the way they are.”

  “Does this mean that I can’t make out with you here?” Yoni had a twinkle in his eye as he smiled.

  “Not here, while we’re eating!” Bao replied in amusement. “But afterwards, there’s a spot on the base that I can take us to…We should be able to find some privacy there.”

  Chapter 10: Final Goodbyes

  Ambesah and his visitors arrived at the fence that marked the physical transition from family visit to military duty. His daughter rode on his shoulders and his wife held their Pekingese puppy.

  Ambesah pulled Tikva off from his shoulders and into his arms so that he could hug her properly. “I’m going to miss you, little one,” he said, lowering her to the ground. “Promise me you’ll be a good girl and listen to Mommy?” Tikva nodded timidly.

  “Watch yourself out there,” his brother Sanbeto said, as he embraced his older brother.

  “You too. And good luck with those non-Ethiopian girls,” Ambesah replied with a grin, as they ended their hug.

  He turned to his wife, taking her in his arms. “Please take care of my dad for me. And don’t forget to speak Amharic to Adi.”

  “I’ll try…Be safe and come back soon.”

  “I will…I love you.”

  “I love you too.” They kissed.

  Ambesah crouched down to give Tikva one last hug and kiss. He turned around and passed the fence beyond which no visitors were allowed. After a few more steps, he turned around to reciprocate the goodbye-waves that he knew were waiting for him.

  ****

  Bao looked at his watch. There were ten minutes until 1800 hours, at which time he was due aboard the submarine. He figured it would take about three minutes to walk across the lawn, another three minutes to walk up to the submarine, and another two minutes to climb the ladder to the apex of the mast.

  Yoni observed all of this and could hear the calculations as if Bao had spoken them aloud.

  “Let’s walk to the fence at the end of the lawn, so we have a bit more time,” Yoni suggested.

  As they walked, Bao searched in vain for a certain topic that he had wanted to mention before they concluded their short visit. Yoni thought that Bao just wasn’t sure what to say in their last minutes together.

  “I’m serious about going to Vietnam,” he began. “We’re taking a trip there when you come back.” But Bao finally realized what he had wanted to say and skipped to that topic instead.

  “Yoni, do me a favor and stop going to those leftist demonstrations against the occupation. The UK fucking boycotts you anyway. There’s something undignified and pathetic about advocating for their cause when they attack you.”

  “But it’s not their cause, and I don’t do it for them or their approval. I do it for the future of our country.”

  “The future? Why do you think ending the occupation will improve anything?”

  “Because that is the root cause of this conflict. That’s why there’s war and terrorism.”

  “That’s such bullshit. What about all of the war and terrorism before 1967, when there was no occupation?”

  “I’m not saying the other side is perfect. They brainwash their kids to hate Israel at a very early age in the West Bank and Gaza. I know that. And I know that there is constant incitement in the Palestinian mosques and media. But land for peace is the only formula that can solve this conflict.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Look at the peace we got with Egypt in exchange for giving back the Sinai. It’s been a cold peace of thirty years, but that’s still better than thirty years of war.”

  “Yeah, but let’s see if that peace lasts another thirty years. Or if the peace can be toppled as easily as the regime that made it.”

  “Every peace starts with thirty years, including those that last a hundred years.”

  “Maybe. But we already tried land for peace with the Palestinians.”

  “You mean the 1947 UN Partition Plan? Or Barak’s peace offer in 2000?”

  “No, I mean the Disengagement of 2005. We evicted ten thousand Israelis from their homes in Gaza and handed over the entire territory to the Palestinians. What did we get as a thank you? Eight thousand rocket attacks threatening a million civilians in the South. That’s not land for peace. That’s land for war.”

  Yoni was growing impatient with the conversation, mostly because he didn’t want to say goodbye on such a strident note. He needed to lighten the tone and change the topic. “Since when did you become such a right-winger, hovering around at the bottom of the sea?”

  “I’m not a right-winger, Yoni. If anything, I’m a leftist who became a realist after the facts kept disappointing him. The messy history of this conflict should make anyone doubt simple-sounding solutions like ‘Just end the occupation and we’ll have peace.’”

  “OK, so what’s your solution?”

  “I’m not saying I have one. That’s why I’m not in government and don’t ever plan to be. I hire politicians to figure this shit out.”

  “Anyway, can we not say goodbye on such a political note?”

  “You’re right…I’m sorry. We don’t usually talk politics. But there was something about those UK boycotts that really got under my skin.”

  “I know. They infuriate me too. They’re so unfair and so clueless, that you don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Begin by curing cancer. That’ll show’em.”

  “Indeed.”

  They arrived at the fence. “I should get going now.” Yoni could see that Bao wanted to keep the goodbye as heterosexual as possible with other sailors walking by.

  Yoni gave him a bear hug and whispered in his ear, “I love you, Bao.”

  “I love you too, Yoni…Too bad you can’t be on the submarine with me, when I decide to come out on this mission.”

  Yoni disengaged from their hug and his face lit up. “Really?”

  “I think so…We’ll see…You’ll know for sure when I come back.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Me too…Goodbye for now.”

  “See you soon. And don’t come back here with another fake shore visit next time!”

  ****

  According to protocol, the captain is always the last to board the submarine. This practice helped to maximize the odds that the deputy captain would need to conduct the pre-departure roll call only once. Boarding the submarine last also helped the captain to notice any stragglers who may have been left behind somehow. This practice gave Daniel some extra time to visit with Sivan and Esty.

  The captain found this goodbye to be more difficult than any previous one. The foreboding in his gut had been intensifying with each additional omen suggesting that this family goodbye might be his last. He peered at his wife and daughter for a moment, as if doing so could fix their image in his mind more permanently. Sivan looked graceful and poised but sturdy, like a sculpture to which playful Esty was tethered, keeping her from flying out of safe orbit. He wished he could have seen Amir and Hila again too, and tried for a moment to imagine them present at the farewell. Their airy likenesses joined for an imaginar
y moment but then faded as the more compelling details of reality dominated Daniel’s senses.

  He was tempted to utter parting words of love in a profound and final way, but he had resolved to keep his presentiment concealed. The captain had concluded that he had to make this as normal a goodbye as possible in order to adhere to ethical standards and to avoid distressing Sivan and Esty with what was merely his unconfirmed, albeit reasonable, speculation. Thus, for the rest of the conversation, Daniel acted as if he knew without a doubt that he was coming back in a few weeks and that everything would be fine.

  He looked down at Esty. Sivan had pinned his military insignia onto her shirt, to avoid any more traumatic, accidental losses. His daughter seemed to have an extra bounce in her step when parading around with the captain’s shoulder board on her. “Thank you for making me captain, Daddy,” she cried out, just as Daniel began to prepare his parting words.

  “You’re welcome, sweetie. But you still have to listen to Mommy.”

  “Daddy, are you sure you don’t need it to show everyone that you’re the captain?”

  “I’m sure, sweetie.”

  “Because, because if you do, then…Then I can let you borrow it for this trip…But then you have to promise to give it back to me when you come home.”

  “No, honey. It’s OK. I want you to have it while I’m away.”

  Sivan released a chortle. “Isn’t she priceless? I don’t know how you can miss such moments.”

  “I don’t either…But this is my last mission.”

  “I still don’t believe it.”

  “It is…Don’t forget: martial arts classes for Amir. I want to see him breaking bricks with his hand by the time I come home.”

  Sivan smiled. “To celebrate your return, we’ll have a brick-breaking ceremony in the living room when you come home.”

  “I mean it, Sivan. Sign him up.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

 

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