Marchand T. MacDermotRoe
CHAPTER III
The crashing sound of gunfire rings in Jack's ears. The darkness is deep, almost unending. Jack can feel the cold air brushing against his cheeks. It is a penetrating, numbing cold that stabs straight to the bone. The crunch of the frozen grass underneath his boots is dampened by a slick and slippery feeling. Blood. Jack looks forward in the darkness but sees only distant flashes. The crack of a rifle echoes forth. Out in the darkness Jack can hear men screaming, some in anger and some in pain.
Jack can feel the cold wooden frame of his .30-06 M1 Garand Rifle. Suddenly, a figure starts running towards him. Jack raises his rifle and squeezes the trigger. Click. What the fuck! Click. WHY WON'T YOU FIRE! Click Click Click. The figure runs towards him, bayonet glimmering in the darkness. The figure clad in a dirty and tattered khaki uniform screams "GIM-ILSEONG SULYEONGNIM MANSE!". Panic, fear, heart racing, Jack can see the bayonet aimed for his abdomen. Swinging his rifle around to wield it as a bat Jack prepares to swing and then…
Bing bong. "Shalom Alaykem Ladies and Gentlemen." Jack's eyes snap open as he awakens to the voice of his pilot on board an El Al flight. "We are now beginning our decent into Lod International Airport" the pilot cheerful lets out over the intercom. Jack takes a long deep breath. Wiping the sweat from his forehead he thinks to himself God in heaven. My heart won't stop racing. He feels his heart pounding like a battering ram against his rib cage. He looks over at the poor gentlemen sitting next to him. The man, a middle aged fellow in his blue three piece suit, was clearly perturbed and asked "Ma Nishma? Are you alright?" Jack grinds his teeth a little and then lets out a long sigh. Jack then looks right at the man and gives him a simple answer "I just don't like to fly."
Getting off the plane Jack collects his luggage and heads out to the front of the airport. Once outside two tall men in dark suits approach him. "Mr. Ryan you are to come with us" says one of the men. "I take it that you gentlemen are from the Institute?" Jack asks them, with his usual talent for stating the obvious. "If you please Mr. Ryan time is of the essence." The two men shuffle Jack and his luggage into a black limo with absurdly tinted windows and they are off.
Jack sits in the back and observes the rather plane interior of the limo. Well at least I didn't have to wait on the tarmac. God I could use a drink. Figures Mossad limo wouldn't have a mini-bar. Jack sits back and tries hard to peer through the tinted windows. He watches the scenery of this city of new and old go quickly by. It takes Jack back to his youth, this was not Jack's first time in Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel.
As the limo takes a turn past Independence Park Jack feels a whirl of emotions sweeping over him. He remembers his college days, just after the war, when he came to Israel as a student. He remembers how he used to take walks through Independence Park and how special those walks were. They were special because he took them with a beautiful young woman, Rivka Yonah. She was his age, blonde, slender, with red cheeks and a smile that could turn the darkest night into day. She was sharp as a bayonet and the only woman Jack felt, could truly give him a run for his money whether discussing Shakespeare or Marx. The very thought of her put a smile to his face.
However, as with all dreams pleasant or not, Jack was brought back into the real world by the sudden stop of his limo outside a rather non-descript building. One of the individuals that picked Jack up, opens the door and tells Jack "Follow me." Jack follows into the building. As he enters the first thing he notices is a slogan emblazoned on the wall. בתחבולות תעשה לך מלחמה Jack thinks to himself be-tachbūlōt ta`aseh lekhā milchāmāh, For by Wise Guidance You Can Wage War. Truer words were never spoken.
Jack always knew that the State of Israel depended entirely on having good intelligence to ensure its survival. It is a Jewish island in an Arab sea, surrounded by twenty-two Arab countries all pledged to the destruction of the tiny Jewish nation. It was intelligence that saved Israel during the War of Independence in 1948 when the Armies of Egypt, Jordan, Syria, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and many others invaded Israel. They tried to snuff out the State of Israel at its birth, but the nation survived, by courage of its citizens, the blood of its soldiers and the skills of its intelligence agents.
Winding his way down the halls Jack is taken to a remote end of the building, they head down a long hallway lined with offices. At the very end Jack's escorts stop at the last office on the left and knock on the door. "MA!" a loud voice bellow's out the Hebrew word for WHAT. The escort opens the door and rather unceremoniously shoves Jack into the small office. It's a rather cluttered office. Books are piled up on the desk and the floor. The smell of tobacco hangs in the air, along with what Jack can only assume is the aroma of a week-old falafel sandwich.
Standing in front of his desk is a rather tall and broad Mossad agent. His muscles seem to make the seams of his suit appear to strain, while his face is marked by a deep scar on his right cheek. With a big gesture and a wry smile, the agent says to Jack "So you must be the goy the CIA sent us. I'm Eli Jaros." Reaching out for a handshake Jack shakes his hand. What a grip. His shake is as strong as his personality. "Agent Jack Ryan. Good to meet you" Jack says. "Take a sit boychick we have much to talk about." Letting go of Jack's hand Eli gestures to the chair in front of his desk, which appears to have a pile of field manuals on it. "Just put those down anywhere, I know where everything is" Eli says as he sits at his chair.
With mild frustration Jack places the books on the floor and has a seat. He called me Boychik, Yiddish for youngman. We gotta be the same age. "So Eli the agency has put me at your disposal. I've had a chance to review the aerial photographs but some of the reports themselves seem…" Eli immediately interrupts Jack, looking him square in the eyes "Jack I need to be completely frank with you, do you know why you're here?" Furrowing his brow and taken aback Jack replies "To provide proof of the Egyptian Army's real intentions towards Israel for my government." Eli nods responsively but interjects once again "That's only partially true."
"There are two factions in the Israeli government right now. One, led by the National Religious Party, believe the Arabs won't attack and the other led by Defense Minister Moshe Dayan believe that they will. Prime Minister Eshkol seems to be leaning towards those who naively believe that Nasser won't attack us. Our intelligence reports have shown that the Egyptians indeed plan to attack within the next 3 to 5 days. If we don't strike first Israel will cease to exist. However, we can't seem to convince the Prime Minister of this fact. That's where you come in. I requested an American agent to accompany me on a fact-finding mission behind Egyptian lines. If we come back with proof they will have to believe us because you are an impartial witness."
Jack thinks to himself well I suppose it's to be expected. In this world nothing is ever entirely what it seems. "What kind of proof do we have to find" Jack asks. "Something conclusive and irrefutable. If we don't, then we will be celebrating the next Shabbat in the Mediterranean" Eli responds with a slow and heavy voice. Letting those words hang in the air, Jack realizes that the clock is truly ticking. Looking across the desk and taking a deep breath Jack asks, "So when do we leave?" With a laugh that could only mean trouble Eli belts out "Right now. I hope you slept on the flight here. I'll brief you on the way. Have you ever jumped before?"
Jumped? What does he mean jumped? Oh God I think he wants me to parachute. Jack standing up simultaneously, and clearly with hesitation in his voice tells Eli "If you mean out of an airplane, then the answer is no. I can't wrap my mind around why anyone would want to leap out of a perfectly good airplane." Eli bursts into laughter and walking around the desk slaps Jack on the back and tells him "Don't worry Boychik it's really not that hard. You'll be attached to the inside of the plane by a line that will hopefully pull your parachute out and you'll float safely to the ground." Jack looks right up at Eli "What do you mean by hopefully? What if it doesn't open?" Eli just looks down at the ground and says "we'll be flying in pretty low so give it about two minutes and it won't be your problem anymore."
That's really reassuring. Great these people are going to get me killed. Their back up plan is that in the event my chute doesn't open I die. Perfect. I wonder what other fantastic opportunities I will have to have brains splattered for freedom. The anxiety was very clear on Jack's face so as they walked out of the office Eli tried to put the American at ease. "You remind me of my first jump. It was in 1956, I was so scared, I had never jumped out of an actual plane before. Suddenly, I was parachuting into the Sinai surrounded by the Egyptian Army. I had never been so scared. Fortunately, I closed my eyes counted to three and before I knew it my chute opened, and I was on the ground."
This frankness did put Jack at ease a bit. Although, Jack was a little unnerved by Eli's outgoing and flamboyant nature. Of course we'll be stuck in a tiny, cold airplane together and then, assuming I survive the fall, I'll have to wonder through the desert with a total extrovert looking for the Egyptian Army. Part of Jack couldn't help but slightly regret his decision to leave the desk. At least behind the desk he didn't have to deal with other human beings. He could go to work, analyze some pictures, read through some dossiers, go home, have a drink and go to what was technically sleep, all without having to deal with other human beings.
However, all things being equal, Jack knew he would feel better once they were in the field. Even if Eli insisted on telling stories and talking the entire time, Jack figured that he could just tune Eli out. It's hard to have too much chatter when your skulking around Egyptian military bases. That is all assuming that the Egyptian Army isn't bluffing and decides to pick up and go home. This could all be part of a giant ruse and Jack will have to spend the next week alone with Eli wandering through the desert. Alternatively, they could land right into the middle of the entire Egyptian Army.
Jack's mind was running through scenarios as they made their way out the door to the back parking lot of Mossad Headquarters and out to a small Yugo sitting near the door. "Say what you will for Tito, the Yugoslavs make a good car" Eli let out as he unlocked the car. Jack got into the passenger's seat. God these things are tiny. Eli seemed to dwarf the car with his size and appeared to barely fit himself in the driver's seat. However, in spite of this he looked at the car with pride and an element of adoration. Eli let Jack know "this is the first car I ever owned. I always lived in cities and never needed a car but when I started working for Mossad I bought one."
I suppose the pride makes sense. Still though is there a story for everything. Jack remembered that it is a uniquely Israeli quality to attach a story to everything. Jack couldn't help but be thrown back. As Eli's voice faded in the distance of his mind Jack was drawn once again to Rivka. Jack remembered sitting with her on a sunny afternoon in a café in central Tel Aviv listening to her talk passionately about Descartes and Trotsky. Jack would argue the failings of Bolshevism espouse the ideas of Winston Churchill in return. He would watch Rivka's cheeks turn bright red when he'd call her a Jewish Socialist.
Yet on another occasion Jack remembered laying with her on a bed in his small rented room. He would have his arm around her, as she lay by his side, her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Jack would sit there reading Shakespeare's sonnets to Rivka as she lay there with her eyes closed in the tenderest embrace. There was never a moment when Jack felt true happiness except right in that instance. The thought still brought a warmth to a heart that had almost learned to stop feeling.
Rivka. Being back in Israel brought these memories flooding back. Memories that were beautiful and yet painful. He had avoided thinking about her for so long but now the world he had left her in was all around him. Every street there was something to remind him of her. A part of him that he had left in Israel suddenly felt reconnected. When Jack closed his eyes and thought of Rivka, he could almost feel her hair brushing against his face. When he breathed in he could almost feel her breath on his cheek. When he reached out he could almost feel her cheek in his hand. He could hear the pitter patter of rain on the roof of that Tel Aviv hotel all those years ago and feel her beating heart pressed against his.
SLAM! Jack's head goes right into the dashboard of the car as Eli slams on the breaks. "Zay Moykhl. I always miss the turn to the airfield" Eli says with clearly an element of embarrassment. "Don't worry about it. I needed something to wake me up anyway" Jack replies trying to ignore the throbbing pain now present in his nose. Turning on the airfield they approach a small hanger with a French made NORD 2501 Noratlas transport aircraft. Along the wall was a row of tables with equipment sitting on it, weapons radios, and ammunition. Next to the aircraft was a smaller table with what looked like the flight crew standing around apparently getting their mission brief.
Parking the vehicle Eli looked over at Jack "are you ready for this my friend?" Jack looked Eli straight in eyes and told him "I was ready when I landed." Getting out of the vehicle they headed to grab their equipment change into uniform and board the plane. Finally, they were leaving, and on mission. Jack knew the fate of Israel rested on what they discovered, and most importantly what he discovered in the Sinai. Both the government of Israel and the United States were counting on him to succeed. He must not, he cannot, fail.