The Last Israelis - an Apocalyptic, Military Thriller about an Israeli Submarine and a Nuclear Iran (4 page)

BOOK: The Last Israelis - an Apocalyptic, Military Thriller about an Israeli Submarine and a Nuclear Iran
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“I’m not obsessed. Just curious. I mean, why does everyone expect me to date an Ethiopian just because I’m Ethiopian?”

“Who’s everyone?” Ambesah asked. “You mean society? Or our family?”

“Both.”

“Well, maybe it’s just easier. The path of least resistance, you know?”

“It’s definitely easier, but easier isn’t always better.”

“You do have a point,” Yardena said. “And I was just playing with you, of course. There’s no reason for anyone to discourage you from mixed dating.”

“Actually, I think it’d be easier to convince our family to get over it than to convince a non-Ethiopian Israeli girl to date me.”

“Don’t give up,” Yardena said. “Let me ask around my office to see if there are any non-Ethiopian dates that we can set you up on.”

“When you put it like that, I’m the one who sounds racist!” Sanbeto exclaimed, to their laughter.

Chapter 5: Yisrael

As Ambesah and his group were laughing, Yisrael Dayan stood nearby talking to his wife, Netta, and the tone of their conversation could not have sounded more different. Netta had accumulated nothing but bad news for the deputy captain during the last ten days that he had been away on the submarine exercise.

He looked away, clenching his jaw as he tried to contain his emotions. The sun reflected off Yisrael’s bald shaven head. Below his large forehead, a pair of intellectual-looking, circular-framed spectacles seemed to accentuate his intense, blue-grey eyes.

“At least he was surrounded by his loved ones,” Netta said.

“Was he in pain?”

“The doctors did their best to minimize it. And there was a beautiful tribute to his incredible life during the shiva that you missed.”

Yisrael stood solemnly for a moment unable fully to grasp the news of his grandfather’s passing. He tried to articulate something but his mouth felt dry and inept.

“On the night before he died in his hospital bed I told him that you would soon be captain of the submarine and his face lit up with so much pride.”

Yisrael finally burst into tears, as Netta held him.

“Of all of the things I’ve missed in my 37 years of life, this one hurts the most…He was such a special human being…”

“I know…Sometimes it seems as if people like that aren’t made any more…He lived such a full and extraordinary life, and meant so much to so many people…He asked me to transcribe his diary for you…It’s quite a lot. He was a beautiful and prolific writer...”

“And he had so much to write about…He did in 95 years what most people would need two hundred years to do.”

“I know…I still have a long way to go before finishing, but I brought you a printout of his earlier years – his childhood in Poland, his time fighting in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, and being one of the few to survive it, up through the time that he helped to found the State of Israel.”

Netta handed Yisrael a bound printout of about 100 single-spaced pages.

“Thank you!” The left-handed deputy captain briefly flipped through the pages, in awe of the history and personal significance of what he held. “This means so much to me – just to have something of his spirit on the submarine with me, keeping me company on our next mission. I will read and treasure every word.”

“His spirit will be with you. Always. And I know you’ll make him proud.”

“I will always try. Which is why I’ll probably always regret that I didn’t give him the one thing that he wanted most from me while he was still alive.”

“Well, it’s not for lack of trying…Some things are just beyond our control.”

“We definitely tried,” Yisrael added, in slight resignation. “Did my test results come in yet?”

“I prefer that we not talk about it now. Especially after your grandfather’s passing – and when you’re about to leave again for who knows how many weeks…Why don’t we wait until you’re back?”

“No, I need to know.”

“No, you don’t…What difference can it possibly make when I’m not even going to see you for the coming weeks?”

“It can’t be good news, if you insist on avoiding it.”

“Please, Yisrael,” she pleaded. “Let’s drop it for now, OK?”

Yisrael looked away, frustrated and assuming the worst. Netta needed to change the subject fast.

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to tell you – in connection with your promotion.”

“What is it?”

“I think you should stop going to those left-wing demonstrations when you’re at home and off-duty.”

“Why?”

“Last week there was a news story about a protester who attended a demonstration and spoke with the news cameras about his political views. During the interview he revealed that he was currently serving in an elite army unit and he was later suspended.”

“Well, that guy was just stupid. I would never publicly reveal that I’m in the submarine corps – whether or not I’m demonstrating.”

“But you’re taking a risk. Someone who happens to know that you’re a submariner could be at the same demonstration, or even see you on a news report, and then say something to someone else, and then the word gets out.”

“That’s a very small risk. I wear sunglasses and avoid talking to anyone at protests. And I usually bring a political message on a placard that I hold up in a way that hides my face.”

“But what’s the point of protesting if you have to hide yourself while doing it?”

“Because just being there with the group contributes to the strength of their movement, and I have to be true to my core beliefs and work for the change I want to effect. The occupation oppresses the Palestinians and it corrupts the souls of the Israeli soldiers who must rule over them by force.”

“You usually talk about how it threatens to destroy the Jewish state demographically.”

“That’s the main policy reason that I’m opposed to the occupation. But there are plenty of moral reasons to protest it as well. I want the Palestinians to have a good life within their own state, living peacefully next to our state.”

“So do a lot of people. But they don’t all go out and protest. Is it more important to you than your naval career?”

“I can balance the two.”

“Why risk it when you’re so close to becoming captain? Just wait until you retire from the Navy. Then you can become a full-time political activist and protest whenever and however you want.”

“Moral convictions don’t wait for convenient timing. And they mean nothing if you’re not prepared to sacrifice your personal interests when defending them.”

Chapter 6: A Promotion for Esty

The wailing sound of a child’s cry rang through the area, followed by a steady, rhythmic repetition of sobbing. It was Esty, bawling by the water’s edge. Tikva appeared to be restraining her from getting closer to the water.

Within moments, Ambesah and Yardena were moving towards their daughter, calling out to her. “Tikva, what’s going on? Let her go!” Tikva looked alarmed and – realizing that she might be in trouble – was herself on the verge of tears as she released Esty. Moments later, Ambesah took hold of her and Yardena tried to see if Esty was OK.

Seconds after that, Daniel and Sivan, who had been standing farther away, were running over to the scene where their daughter was crying. Yardena crouched down and tried in vain to pacify Esty while Ambesah tried to get the full story from his daughter.

“What happened, Tikva?” Ambesah was hoping for a good answer as the most powerful man on his submarine approached the area with his wife. “Why is Esty crying so much? Why were you holding her like that?”

“Because…Because she wanted to go into the water, and I thought she might fall in.”

Sanbeto, who had also approached the chaotic scene, saw that his brother’s Pekingese puppy was now unsupervised, so he ran after the scampering dog and scooped it up.

“What do you mean she wanted to go in the water?” Ambesah asked. The pressure of having to justify herself by that point had become too much to bear and Tikva began to cry.

Esty was still trying to move toward the edge of the water, but Yardena was blocking her path, making Esty cry more. “No sweetie, it’s dangerous to get so close.”

As Sivan arrived on the scene moments later, she acknowledged Yardena’s supervision with a polite smile and took over. Sivan put her arms around her daughter and held her gently, caressing her hair. “What’s wrong, baby? Why are you trying to go into the water?” Daniel crouched down next to her as well.

“Are you OK, my little angel?” he asked.

“I want to get my starfish in the water…She dropped my starfish in the water,” she cried, pointing an accusing finger at Tikva. “And then she grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean to drop the starfish in the water,” Daniel said, with a sympathetic tone. “Right?” he said, turning toward Tikva and Ambesah.

“Well? What happened, Tikva?” her father asked.

“She let me hold it, and then I was running after the dog and it…It slipped out of my hand and then…And then it rolled over the edge, into the water…I didn’t mean for it to happen…” She choked up into tears again but worked through the rest of her explanation…“And then Esty tried to get it…And she was getting really close to the water…So I stopped her…”

By now, even Yisrael and his wife had come by to see what the commotion was all about. They listened in and watched from a respectful distance.

“Well, you did a very good thing, Tikva. You used excellent judgment for a girl your age,” Daniel said. “Thank you for not letting Esty get any closer to the water.”

Ambesah wiped away his daughter’s tears, and said, “You did great, Tikva. I’m proud of you.”

Esty had calmed down but was still whimpering. “My starfish is gone…and now, and now I don’t have it to protect me…And I liked it so much for drawing stars…”

“That’s OK, baby,” said Sivan, holding Esty while stroking her hair. “I’m sure Daddy can find you another starfish when he comes back from his next mission.”

“But what will protect me when he goes away now?”

“You know what?” Daniel drew closer to his little girl. “I’m going to give you something that will protect you even more than that starfish did.”

“Really? Like what?” Esty puzzled over what it could be, as she wiped away her tears. “Is it the daddy of the starfish?”

“Even better.”

“What is it?”

Everyone who happened to be listening – including Yisrael and Ambesah – waited intently for the answer. Daniel moved a little closer to his daughter and then removed from his naval uniform one of the shoulder boards with two gold clusters displaying his military rank. He put it in his daughter’s hand saying, “This is Daddy’s rank. This proves that he’s the captain. And now it’s yours. To remind you that Daddy’s always there, watching over you.”

Esty’s face calmed down a bit, albeit in hesitant disbelief – she wasn’t sure it was safe yet to accept the gift.

“But Daddy, if you give me that then…Then how will everyone know that you’re the captain of the submarine?”

“Don’t worry about that, sweetie. They know I’m the captain. And I want you to have it.”

Esty seemed a bit intimidated by the responsibility of carrying such a significant token. Sivan clasped her hand on top of the insignia in her daughter’s hand and said, “Say thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” Esty said, releasing a big smile as Daniel kissed her on the cheek.

“You’re welcome, sweetie.”

“Daddy, does this mean I get to be the captain now?”

“Well, it’s not so easy to become a captain. That’s really just to protect you when Daddy is away.”

“But if I’m the captain then Mommy has to listen to me when I want more ice cream, right?”

“That’s not what it means to be captain, Esty.”

“But what if the captain wants more ice cream?”

“How about this? When I get back from this mission, I’ll bring you back a small boat that we can put in the bathtub, and then I’ll show you how to be captain of that boat.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“And then…And then, because I’m the captain of the small boat, does Mommy have to give me more ice cream when I want it?”

Daniel laughed and raised Esty onto his shoulders. “Come on, baby. Let’s go look for some ice cream right now.”

“How about a proper lunch first?” Sivan said, trying her hardest to sound parental and not burst into laughs at her daughter’s adorable tactics. They started to walk toward the picnic tables when Daniel stopped and turned toward Ambesah. “Did your family eat yet?”

“Yes, but – with food like that – there’s always room for more.” They exchanged a warm smile.

“Come. Join us.”

The two families walked toward the repast.

Chapter 7: The Seeds of Doubt

Yisrael and Netta also decided to get a bite, after Netta suggested that they follow Daniel and Ambesah’s families to the food area. During Esty’s short-lived drama that had interrupted the conversation between Yisrael and Netta, the deputy captain decided that he should heed his wife’s advice. She was right: there was no point in delving into painful details, hours before he was boarding the submarine that would keep them apart for weeks. Besides, even before he had asked about his test results, Yisrael had apprehended the likely news from Netta’s generally muted demeanor, and her persistent evasions only confirmed his intuition.

But a little later, something happened in the picnic area that would make Yisrael uneasy for the rest of the reunion and would stick in his stomach long after he re-boarded the submarine. The images flashed by in a flicker and from an unhelpful vantage point, from which the view of his wife briefly talking to Daniel was obscured by other people moving around the nearby table. He himself had been in the middle of a conversation with Ambesah and a Vietnamese-Israeli officer named Bao, when he thought he saw an intense, if not intimate, moment of eye contact between Netta and Daniel. Moments later, he thought he saw her arm moving towards him. It seemed as if she was handing him some kind of letter, because – between the moving limbs and torsos of the people standing between him and the scene he was watching – he thought he saw Netta slip a white piece of paper or envelope to Daniel. There was even a chance that Bao or Ambesah might have seen the eye contact or the letter, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he himself saw those things, so he felt a bit awkward about asking either of his fellow officers for any confirmation. After all, if there was nothing for them to have seen, then he might look oddly paranoid or jealous to them.

BOOK: The Last Israelis - an Apocalyptic, Military Thriller about an Israeli Submarine and a Nuclear Iran
2.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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