The Marsh Angel by Hagai Dagan (ebooks online reader .TXT) 📗

is, whatever you extract from your materials, do what you’re supposed to do with it. But that’s it. No extra probing into the matter. Got it? It’s much more sensitive than you might think. Just drop it. I’ll let this one slide. I get it— you were curious, you thought this was your pet project, whatever. But the trail ends here for you. Is that clear?

Clear.

Good, I’m glad we have an understanding. This is a game you know nothing about, and that’s the way it should stay. Gabi will finish up with you here.

They turned to leave the room. The second guy, who was younger than Menashe and wore a mahogany-colored dress shirt, cast one final look at Tamir with a mixture of curiosity, hostility, contempt, and warning, and left without saying a word.

Gabi came back into the room. One more thing, he said. This organization, Al-Shajara. Stay away from there, you hear me? We’re going to chalk this down as a one-time slip, on the condition you keep it that way. And take my advice— steer clear of those organizations. Believe me, it’s not in your best interest. You serve in a very sensitive position, and if you keep ties with these types of organizations it’s going to raise some questions.

Got it.

Even after you discharge and you’re no longer serving in a sensitive position, you’d do well to steer clear of that lot. That’s not a relationship you want to foster, if you know what I mean. And we’ll always know.

Got it.

Alright. You can go.

As Tamir stepped outside, he was momentarily blinded by the bright light of the sun casting its rays over GHQ. He existed the base and turned into bustling Kaplan Street. He decided not to head directly to the bus station, and instead wandered up the street. As he passed Beit Sokolov, he stopped in his tracks and decided to go into a café called The Library. He ordered a coffee and a croissant. Scattered thoughts clouded his mind with a busy, deafening hum. Only when he took a sip of his coffee did he realize just how badly he had needed it. The coffee was awful and the croissant was stale, but Tamir felt rejuvenated, as if he were infused with blood right on the cusp of succumbing to dehydration. He didn’t even taste the coffee Gabi had placed in front of him. There was something menacing, almost impure about it. Now, after some time had passed, feelings of anger and humiliation flooded him with a wave of disgust. Where the hell did those guys get off talking to me like that? he thought. Who do they think they are? He recalled their condescending tone, the degrading way with which they asserted their authority, how they pried into his personal life, debasing him like there was something inherently wrong about him, like he was some kind of sinner. But they were careless— their questions and warnings gave quite a bit away. It was clear to him now that they were indeed connected to the twins, to their sudden disappearing, and to the erasure of their past. The black matter related to ‘Ali al-Asfar suddenly seemed inconsequential in comparison. The whole thing was blackening, he thought to himself, blackening at an alarming rate.

g. Speculations

When he got back to the department, Moti asked Tamir how it went at GHQ. He replied it went fine.

I’m not asking, and I don’t want to know why they summoned you, Moti said. I just need you to tell me it’s case-closed, and that you can go back to focusing on your job.

Tamir assured him that it was indeed case-closed.

Good, Moti concluded, keeping his watery-eyed gaze fixed on him for an extra moment. Tamir felt there was something distrustful about that gaze, and thought to himself that he probably did try to find out what the matter of the summons was. Moti left the room, and Tamir turned to his computer. Dear god, he thought in exasperation when he saw the backlog of dispatches that had piled up during the few hours he was away. He sighed, and started going over them.

Tamir was well versed in the different Unit 504 sources in Lebanon by now, and had developed a decent command of the Mossad sources reporting on Lebanon— whether from within the country or from outside. The Mossad kept a credibility ranking for each of their sources, but Tamir had developed his own assessment, based in part on the corroboration of their reports with information coming in from other unit sources. He also learned to evaluate reports flowing in from Yakal, the Shin-Beit unit operating in Lebanon. Taken together, Tamir felt increasingly confident in his ability to evaluate, analyze, and process the stream of communications flowing his way. But that day, Tamir encountered a new Mossad source he was unfamiliar with, named Raspberry. Based on Raspberry’s high credibility ranking, it appeared that the source was present in the events it reported on, rather than passing on second-hand information. The source reported about a meeting held at the Front’s headquarters in al-Mazra‘a. Usually, reports of this nature concerned political decisions and declaratory matters of little practical value, but this time, the report contained operational information. Tamir held his breath a read:

A meeting was held in al-Mazra‘a on 29th October. The source believes the meeting was attended by all the major operational factors of the Front. The source heard a telephone call by Jihad Jibril in which he reported to an unknown factor about the meeting. According to Jihad, it was decided that from there on out, they would increase operational coordination within the unit and take it up a notch in light of the instruction to collaborate with the new friends. Jihad added that now was not the time for competition, and that from now on the brothers will work together, because something big is in the making. The source couldn’t make out the meaning of the instruction to collaborate with the new