Tsunami Connection (22 page)

"Christ, you really are human after all. I know you
didn't want this mess. I guess shit happens."

Yochana got out of the car and headed into the store with
Kefira. Sam gave them an appreciative once over as they joined him. They also
purchased some eggplant and shrimp at a fruit store. Yochana said she had great
wine on ice and they returned to her penthouse suite on Melchette Street.

Mid-May 2012

The owl, symbolizing wisdom and hard
learning, looked down from the school's motto on Kefira and Zak as they passed
through security at the entrance to the submarine operations school of the 7th
Submarine Flotilla at Haifa Naval Base. Both were dressed in ceremonial
uniforms and crisp salutes greeted them as they cleared security. Once inside
the submarine operations school building, the universal sounds of study calmed
them down.

"Where exactly is our appointment, Colonel?"
enquired Zak as he followed the Colonel's lead.

"We are to meet in the submarine simulator room. It is
an amphitheatre with a room off it to accommodate the Canadian Aviation
Electronics simulator training units. We will be watching an amphibious
training assault practice insertion technique, given by the youngest submarine
Captain in Israeli Naval history, Captain Astruc," said the Colonel.

Only Kefira and Zak entered a steeply inclined room with
about 150 seats. There were lights at the large desk beside a stand. A slightly
larger than man-size fiberglass cocoon lay open on the table beside the podium.
There was a young man looking at the device thoughtfully, his uniform hat held
tightly under his left arm. He looked up as Kefira and Zak approached. Zak
noticed the three golden, leaf-shaped pips on his epaulets. Kefira and Zak
saluted crisply and both nodded slightly. Though they were dressed formally for
an official funeral later in the day, training sessions were usually informal
affairs where information was exchanged among experts and there was little code
of conduct protocol. Training often but not always happened on a first name
basis. The submarine Captain, young for his rank, tended toward formality.

"Nice to see you up and about, Colonel," he said
using Zak's IDF rank. "We thought we had lost you back there. Always a
pleasure," he added, nodding to Kefira.

"Up and about, Captain Astruc?" replied Zak, his
rising voice conferring a question.

"So, it's true then. You don't remember."

"Fraid so. Let's get on with this anyway. We have an
appointment at the military cemetery just after 3 p.m."

Kefira started by touching the amphibious unit and looking
at Zak for recognition in his eyes. He was certainly curious, but he did not
appear to be familiar with it.

"Zak, you could really help me here if you got into the
unit for the first part of the simulation. Here, give your hat and coat to
Kefira. That's it, climb up on this chair and lie down."

Zak followed orders and found himself being closed into an
amphibious unit, lying face down on the cushioned supports. The comms and
oxygen were automatically connected and he could communicate with the outside
without any adjustments. Kefira and Captain Astruc, Claude, looked at each
other. Claude shrugged in a typically Gallic manner that he had inherited from
his grandfather who did not survive the holocaust, having perished in the
Treblinka death camp. Astruc whispered into a device around his neck as he
applied pressure to his vocal cord covers.

"Well. Are you at ease, Zak?"

At first, Zak did not answer. He was feeling strange. His
head was filling with a cacophony of information. He started to sweat as voices
and memories flooded into his mind. "That sounds like my voice," he
said aloud.

"What did you say, Zak?" asked Captain Astruc and
Kefira in unison, their voices sounding hopeful.

"Are you piping in simulated messages, Captain?"
added Zak, sounding uncharacteristically formal.

"No. You are just getting used to the amphibious
unit."

"Get me out of here now," shouted Zak.

The cover of the unit came unsealed with a smooth suction
sound. Zak looked at Kefira and then at Claude, then back at Kefira. He broke
into a cold sweat, shook his head, and recounted what he had heard after the
two officers helped him out of the shaped fiberglass cocoon. The room was
spinning a bit for him and he behaved as if he had had too much to drink.
Captain Astruc motioned for Zak to sit down, but Kefira had to stabilize him
with a strong grip on his arm. His arm was slick with sweat and she almost let
go of him.

"I was in the water in one of those. You, Kefira, were
communicating with me. You ordered me and my team to go into a bunker, but I
said I was in the water and you said I was on the beach. I am baffled, but
something is coming back to me. We worked together in these units, didn't we?"

"You can't imagine how I have been waiting for you to
say that," said Kefira.

"I have the strangest feeling that we are friends. I am
just confused. It's so much all at once," blurted Zak all in one breath.

Kefira knelt down in front of him and pushed open his knees.
She forced herself between his legs. Her smell permeated to his nose and
revived other memories, more erotic experiences, then suddenly there was a
bright light, an explosion and he passed out in her arms. Captain Astruc called
a medic on his cell phone. He looked at her as she stayed between his legs,
hugging him to her. He shouted, "The light, the light," before he
passed out.

"He's opening up. That doctor friend of yours sure had
a good idea. I've never witnessed something like that before. He's come back to
us. Let's just hope he didn't regress due to the shock."

Kefira felt a thousand pounds lift from her shoulders. She
knew he would come back now. The medic arrived with two stretcher carriers.
They sedated Zak before he woke up. Kefira rode to the hospital with him,
holding his hand while she composed Doctor Mordicai's number. The siren made
speaking difficult, but the doctor was waiting for them when they arrived at
emergency. Kefira recounted their experience in the amphitheatre. When she
finished, Doctor Mordicai took a step forward and hugged her close.

"You did it. I told you I had a good feeling about him.
It is a classic recovery move. In the coming days, he will be confused, but he
will be more and more himself. I give him a week to recover all of his
memories. Congrats. He remembered having sex with you. It must be great to have
been more important than the explosion. Maybe your love saved his mind from
making an enduring cocoon around the pain."

"Thank you, doctor. I'll go to him now."

"I suggest a second bed in his room, right beside his
bed. I'll arrange it right now," said Mordicai as he picked up a landline
phone.

Kefira made her way up the stairs to Zak's room, nodded to
the outside guard and then the inside guard. Both of them let her in without
inspection formalities. Zak lay peacefully on his bed. She stretched out beside
him on his bed and fell fast asleep. From a deep fog an hour later, she emerged
feeling someone breathing in her ear. There was a whispering sound. She turned
toward the sound. Zak was facing her, cradling her in his arms.

"
Livia, Livia
, my lioness," he said,
"I have returned from the dead with memories of our love flashing about in
my mind."

Tears streamed down Kefira's face and she cuddled into his
arms, grateful for this chance to live again. They rested that way until an
employee interrupted them with a dinner tray. She was brusque. Kefira caught
the woman by the arm and asked her if she had the correct time. The nurse's
aide said it was one thirty.

"Zak, we have to get a cab. The funeral is in ninety
minutes," said Kefira.

"That won't be necessary, Colonel," said a young
man in a crisp dress uniform.

"Thank you, Captain."

"There's really no rush. We have an escort. You have
fifteen minutes to eat."

Kefira noticed their dress uniforms on hangers on the back
of the door. The two of them ate silently and then solemnly donned their dark
colored dress uniforms. Just as they were walking out the door, Doctor Mordicai
appeared.

"Hmmm. Where are you two off to with all that 'fruit
salad' on?" asked the doctor, referring to the medals they were wearing.

"There's a ceremony today for our units," Kefira
answered.

The Captain intervened, "With all due respect, I am
afraid we do not have time, Doctor."

"Of course. Will you two get back to me today?"

"If we are free."

The three of them left the doctor staring after them. They
walked down the stairs, passed an uncharacteristically brief security check,
and walked to two waiting Cadillac Escalades. Blue flashing lights assured that
traffic cleared in front of them. They entered the military cemetery on Jaffa
Street near the Haifa Naval Submarine Base. There were thousands of people
standing in the cemetery. The Yediot Haifa newspaper had carried a story in its
morning edition: '
Soldiers Who Died Preventing A Genocide To Be Honored
Today'
. Even the streets in both directions along the seaside were brimming
with school children and crying citizens. A sea of small blue and white Israeli
flags and hastily made banners welcomed the living legends. Zak understood his
role in the operation now and Kefira looked at him.

"Do you remember how many died?"

"Yes.

They made their way through crowds, feeling encouraging
squeezes from many of the participants. There was a sense of ease under all of
the tension. No one would dare disrupt this crowd. Still, the secret service
formed four-officer diamonds around all the pairs of surviving soldiers, and a
pair of military drones was monitoring the event from a discreet distance.

March 23, 2012

Hours drifted into days for Ben and
Tahila. The MacAuley duo slept, ate, argued and defecated like clockwork. On
the twelfth day of incarceration, Tahila received word from Sam that the
mission in Syria was a partial success. He said that agents would be coming to
relieve them shortly. Just after the phone communication, there was a loud
thump from inside the makeshift prison. Looking down from the Plexiglas top of
the prison, Ben saw that MacAuley was prone on the floor and his sister Michael
was pleading with him to do something. He got down from the step ladder they
used to check on their captives and conferred with his superior. Neither one of
them wanted to mess up their first mission.

"One of us has to go in there to check his pulse,"
said Tahila.

"He's a crafty prick. I don't trust him for a minute.
Let's use the gas," answered Ben.

"You mean the horse tranquilizer darts."

"That's exactly what I mean."

"I don't know. I really feel like a Nazi doing that.
What if it kills him?"

"It's your call. You're in charge here, Captain."

"Use the taser."

"Ok."

Ben followed orders and slipped the taser pistol in a slot
in the Plexiglas top. MacAuley was lying half on the floor. The darts struck
him in the neck, just under his chin. His body shivered slightly when they
entered the skin. Afterwards, he lay still. Tahila entered the room and Ben
kept a second taser aimed at them. She leaned over him, being careful to keep
MacAuley between her and Ben. She held a taser in front of her. The sister,
Michael, was droning on about MacAuley having a heart condition. With one hand
on his neck and the other on the taser also on his neck, her finger on the
trigger, Tahila found that MacAuley had no pulse. She got up, looked at the
sister and shrugged, as if to say sorry. Michael shuddered deeply, the Irish
habit of mourning coming out in a deep groan. Tahila left the room and secured
the door.

"Fuck it. He's dead."

"Jesus. You're kidding."

"Here, take the taser and check for yourself. I'll
cover you from above, but I'm going to use live ammo, so don't get between him
and me."

"Ok."

Ben went in and confirmed it. He left the room, carefully
sidestepping the corpse. They decided to get him out of there. They anchored
his feet and threw him overboard beside the houseboat inside the boathouse.
They then returned to keep the vigil on the sister until the cavalry arrived.
It had not been an easy task. A one hundred and ninety pound deadweight did not
budge easily. They were sure that they would not be caught with a corpse in
their possession.

MacAuley had outsmarted the two young officers. He had used
a pill that he always secreted in one of his molars. Snapping out the false
tooth and biting on it produced a state of unconsciousness and virtually no
heart rate discernible without sophisticated medical equipment. The cold water
of the river snapped him awake, but he held his breath as Ben looked on for
about thirty seconds to see if the corpse would float. MacAuley, the wet rat
that he was, chuckled to himself as he rose to the surface under the dock. He
was free.

Now he had to liberate his sister, but then he thought
again.
That bitch got me caught for the first time in my career. I'm done
protecting her
.

He swam away and made his way into the boarded up summerhouse.
There was no food, but plenty of clothes and a moped in the garage. Tahila and
Ben thought it odd when they heard the moped so close by, but went back to
their routine guard duty. Somehow knowing of her brother's duplicity, Michael
cursed under her breath.

Summer 2012

Kefira sat on the edge of her chair
in the meeting room. She did not like what she saw in front of her. Sam sat on
her left. Zak was at ease at the head of the highly polished oak table. The
three of them were looking at the translations of the Chinese documents that
Kefira's team had brought out of Syria.

"Let's look at the video of the room again," said
Zak.

The video rolled, showing a series of computer screens and
two rows of Chinese-made High Definition Plasma or LED screens. There was also
a row of cubicles equipped for customer service, complete with very high
quality headphones for communicating over the Internet.

"Who were they going to communicate with here?"
asked Zak.

"I can't imagine. Wait. I have an idea. It's more
elaborate than our set-up, but it looks like a drone control room."

"Come again?" said Kefira.

"Those screens are for watching what is euphemistically
called 'pred porn'," added Sam.

"Then why all this reference to what looks like a
university course in hypnotism?" interjected Zak.

"I am getting a bad feeling here," said Kefira.

"As odd as this may sound, that's what I was hoping.
It's also why Sam and I want you to come out of retirement. Your intuition is
honed sharper than the two of us put together. Besides, I don't have time to
give this my full attention. What do you say?"

"I guess I miss the adrenalin. I can't go back in the
field, though. Researching this enigma sounds right up my alley."

"Great."

"What about resources?"

"You can have an assistant and the sky's the limit if
it appears to be more threatening than at first flush."

"Can I bring in that Doctor Mordicai as a
resource?"

"Just be sure what you and he learn stays under wraps.
I don't want him leaking to the CIA. And we need to meet regularly on this. How
does every Thursday at 16:30 right here sound?"

"I can do that, but sometimes it will be video
conference, ok?"

"Fine by me. Ok Sam?"

"Keep me apprised, but I am not hands-on on this one. I
am over my head in analysis of Yochana's Egyptian data."

The three of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats at
hearing Yochana's name. After Kefira's return to Israel, Mossad had put her
through the meat grinder, days of interviews explaining her whole life since
Yochana picked Kefira up shortly after the tragic death of Kefira's parents.
Since Kefira was Yochana's protégé, her debriefing risked tarring the younger
woman with the same brush as the one that had secretly, dishonorably discharged
Yochana. After all, the 'Spear Program' was the ex-IDF General's brainchild.

Kefira's decision to kill Shafiq, a life-long agent for
Mossad who was handled by Yochana, was the focus of most of the bureaucracy's
consternation. It was Shafiq's association with the MacAuleys, especially the
woman, which cinched Mossad's approval of Kefira's decision to execute him. As
well, Kefira's ultimately correct choice to trust her instincts and go to
Argentina to find MacAuley when all of the evidence, including regular
sightings by Navy Seal Predators in Aceh Province in Sumatra, pointed to South
East Asia.

The ex-sleeper, Kefira, received an insignificant punishment
for her unsuccessful initiation of the MacAuley interrogation, but, as she
expected, the crucial success of the interrogation counted more than the work-up.
She was, however, taken from fieldwork because of the spotter's report of her
behavior. Part of the evaluation committee respected her statements about her
methods and noted their support in their final report. As a result, Kefira took
a much-needed leave of absence, but did not burn her bridges.

In private, Kefira insisted to Zak that, in the end, her
affair with MacAuley's sister had been business, not a change in orientation.
She tried to explain to Zak that she had become over-involved in her role as
she got closer and closer to her objective in Buenos Aires. That discussion had
happened several months ago. Zak and she had not talked since that time. With
difficulty, over the last few months, Kefira accepted his choice and tried to
move on, too. Hearing his voice over the phone yesterday had given her a pause
and helped her face the reality that she had not gotten over him yet. At the
end of the meeting about their discoveries in Syria, Zak asked her to remain
behind.

"I really have missed you," said Zak as soon as
Sam left.

"Your voice on the line yesterday stirred something in
me, too."

"Brace yourself. I have some news."

"About us?"

"That, too, but it's about MacAuley. As you likely
know, he appears to have escaped and left his sister to the wolves."

"I overestimated the ability of his minders."

"Did he kill them?"

"No. He used some kind of drug to make it look like
he'd had a heart attack. The minders submerged his body and attached his leg to
a chain. Somehow he managed to escape."

"Nine lives, that one!"

"Anyway, we don't have any proof, but it looks as
though he got away. In the debriefing report, it says he drowned, but the fact
that the body was never discovered is telling."

"It is like some kind of recurring nightmare, dealing
with that guy."

"You can say that again."

"What about the sister?" asked Kefira, taking a
chance and evaluating the extent of the damage she had done to her connection
to Zak with her dalliance.

"We gave her some rope. Maybe she will hang herself.
She led you to him once. We have some people on her periodically in Buenos
Aires. As well, her phones and email are under constant surveillance. We will
see."

"You seem to fit right in here in Yochana's old
job," commented Kefira, getting away from the Michael MacAuley minefield.

"Is that a problem for you?"

"No, not at all. I never wanted the desk job. That was
her dream for me."

"Are you sure you are ready to come back to do that
research?"

"I think it'll pick up my spirits. I miss having a
driving purpose, and I haven't been able to get enough satisfaction out of
dancing and exercising more. I am in great shape, though."

"Ah. Ehh …"

"Spit it out."

"Can we have dinner or something?"

"Jesus, I never thought you'd ask."

"Well?"

"My place, tonight. I already started the marinade. It's
one of your favorites. And the dessert will knock you off your feet. I've
become a regular Betty Crocker with all this time off."

"I can't wait, but now I have to get back to work. Do
you mind?"

"No. I'll occupy my old desk and get on the research
thing tomorrow. Can you authorize an assistant for me today?"

"The assistant will contact you at your desk tomorrow
morning. You might be right in your hunch about Doctor Mordicai being useful.
We can sign him to a contract if necessary."

"Sounds great. Later."

Kefira found her old desk looking lonesome, but the people
around it were active and greeted her warmly when she entered the cubicle
section on the fourth floor near the research library. Zak had taken the
liberty of activating her computer for her.
He knew I would jump on board
again
, she thought, as she keyed in a new password and searched the server
for information on drones, hypnotism, power of suggestion and brainwashing.
Everything pointed to Korea. She shook her head and left for her flat in
Melchette Street. Yochana gave Kefira the roof top residence by way of an
apology for her errors in judgment.

The ex-chief of the spear group moved back to her roots at
Kibbutz Na'an. Her life took on a more circumspect aspect. Besides, Mossad had
discharged her, but the dishonorable part of the leaving was scratched in
respect of her lifelong contribution and the fact that no one believed she had
acted treasonously, just in bad judgment. The disgrace she herself felt was
deemed punishment enough. Her life in Kibbutz Na'an involved organizing young
people to develop their knowledge of Israel, as well as being in charge of a
school self-defense program.

Kefira visited her regularly and she seemed to accept her
new life, if a little bitterly. They had not discussed Kefira's lack of
interest in joining the Mossad leadership. It took all of Kefira's self-control
for her not to ask Yochana about the dance studio fire that Kefira had
discovered was set by Mossad agents under the General's control. It now seemed
obvious to Kefira that Yochana's vicarious ambition for her included justifying
the accidental murder of a civilian in California.

 
How could my adoptive
parent have rationalized that abhorrent decision-making process
? thought
Kefira.
Machiavelli and the ends justify the means. I guess it was just like
me with the Michael MacAuleys in Buenos Aires
, considered Kefira as she
watched Yochana working with a group of young people on a recent visit to her
at Kibbutz Na'an. Some things were better left unsaid. It was all water under
the bridge anyway.

The
End