Avraham Azrieli - The Jerusalem Assassin

“I’m so sorry,” Gideon said. “He was anxious to get going. It’s a large sum to carry around.”

“Of course. I assume the arrangements were satisfactory.”

“Superb.” Gideon put on his coat. “Thank you again.”

The bank manager bowed. “At your service.”

As they headed back to the front door, Gideon was relieved to see the vacant curb. He stepped out into a chilly evening, walked down the street, and turned right at the next corner. Halfway down the block, he leaned against the wall and vomited.

*

Rabbi Gerster joined hundreds of mourners at the Sanhedriah Cemetery in Jerusalem for the funeral of the rabbi from Paris, whose body had been flown to Israel that morning on an El Al jetliner. He had never met Rabbi Dasso, but felt an urge to show his respect to a man who had literally given his life to the pulpit. Besides, Rabbi Gerster was quite certain that the funeral would attract political activists, possibly even a few ILOT members.

A Paris-born Knesset member took the microphone to deliver a eulogy. “Rabbi Maurice Dasso was devoted to his congregation and to God. He died while praying, while celebrating a Bar Mitzvah with a Jewish boy, who also died. Those evil hands killed Rabbi Dasso in the middle of the holy Sabbath, a day of spirituality and peace, but not for the Jews of Paris. The murderers descended on the righteous! Cut short the prayers! Turned the joy of a Bar Mitzvah into grief! Snatched away Sabbath’s peace and turned it into blood and death and grief!” He raised his hands at the sky. “ Oy! Oy! How the righteous have fallen!”

Rabbi Dasso’s wife and children, standing by the coffin at the open grave, began crying. Many others cried with them.

“ Our enemies never rest.” The Knesset member wiped his eyes. “I want to ask them: Why do you hate us so? Why does your hatred of Jews thrive with every generation?”

Many in the crowd yelled, “Why? Why?”

“ Why does your thirst for Jewish blood never languish?” He looked up, shaking his head. “What have we done to deserve your venom? Is it the faith in one God, which we have gifted to mankind?”

The mourners cried, “No!”

“ Is it the justice of the Ten Commandments and the civil law of Talmud’s thousand pages, which has inspired laws of fairness and equality in every country in your so-called civilized world?”

“ No!”

“ Is it the wisdom of philosophy and ethics that we have shared with humanity? Or the beauty of music and literature, scribed by Jewish quills to pleasure the ears of all nations?”

“ No!”

“ Is it the scientific leaps that improve the lives of millions? Or the cures we’ve invented for fatal maladies?”

“ No! No! No!”

Taking a deep breath, he cried, “Then why do you hate us, Gentiles?”

There was no response. Even the French ambassador, standing in a section reserved for dignitaries, bowed his head-perhaps in agreement, perhaps in shame. The morning newspapers had reported that the French government had known of Abu Yusef’s activities even before his deadly attack on a Jewish day school in Marseilles the previous month. An anonymous source at the Quai D’Orsay, enraged over the death of the minister of arts and culture in the synagogue bombing, had told the Associated Press that Yasser Arafat himself had asked the French to look the other way while he attempted to deal discreetly with his estranged deputy.

After the burial and prayers, as he was leaving the cemetery, Rabbi Gerster saw a group of women holding a huge placard:

Prime Minister Rabin: Here is your “partner for peace” Arafat’s Resume:

Founder of PLO, Fatah, Black September, Tanzim, Al-Aksa Brigade: 1965-present;

Attacks on farm communities in the south and north, hundreds dead, 1965-70;

Bombing of Swissair Flight 330, 47 passengers dead, 1970;

Bombing of School bus near Moshav Avivim in Israel, 9 children dead, 1970;

Highjack of TWA, Pan Am, and BOAC passenger planes, 1970;

Attacks on multiple civilian targets in Jordan, thousands killed, 1970;

Attack by guns and grenades at Lod Airport in Israel, 1971;

Attack on the Munich Olympics, athletes massacred, 1972;

Attack on US embassy in Saudi Arabia, civilians dead, 1972;

Murder of US ambassador to Sudan, Cleo Noel, 1972;

Murder of 11 civilians in an apartment building in Kiryat Shmona, Israel, 1974;

Murder of 21 children and 5 adults in a school in Ma’alot, Israel, 1974;

Murder of 4 civilians in Bet She’an, Israel, 1974;

Attack on Hotel Savoy in Tel Aviv, numerous dead, 1975;

Attack on bus on coastal highway in Israel, many civilian deaths, 1978;

Inciting civil war in Lebanon that killed thousands of Christians, 1979-82;

Launching thousands of Katyusha missiles into n. Israel, many dead, 1979-82;

Highjack of Achille Lauro, wheelchair-bound old man shot, thrown overboard, 1985;

Bombing of buses, trains, beaches, schools, thousands dead amp; injured, 1986-today;

Signing Oslo “Peace,” continuing terror via PELP, Islamic Jihad, Hamas, 1993-today;

Another sign read: Prime Minister Rabin: How can peace be made with a mass murderer?

An elderly woman held a sign that showed Arafat in a leopard skin with a subtitle: Will a leopard change its spots?

Across the street, Rabbi Gerster saw another group. They held a long banner made of cloth and colored in blue and white. It said: Give Peace a Chance!

*

Gideon sat on the floor in the corner of the hotel room, surrounded by tools and wires. He picked through the bag of Jaffa oranges and chose a small one, not much bigger than a nectarine. He marked the skin with a knife and peeled it, placing the pieces of skin in a neat row.

“Can I help?” Bathsheba sat crossed-legged next to Gideon.

“You can watch.”

“I’d like to watch you later with your new friend.”

“Jealous?”

She stretched her legs. “Abu Yusef isn’t my type.”

“Unfortunately you’re not his type either.”

“Let him work,” Elie said.

Gideon added a few drops of gasoline to a small container of explosive powder and mixed it. He scooped out the paste, shaped it into a ball, and inserted a miniature fuse. Bathsheba held a square of aluminum foil in her palm, and he placed the black ball in the center, wrapping it and smoothing out the creases. Using liquid adhesive, he glued the pieces of peeled skin to the foil, forming a fake orange, marked by a knife to ease its peeling.

“It won’t kill him,” Bathsheba said. “It’s too small.”

“Depends where it explodes,” Gideon said. “Location, location, location.”

*

Abu Yusef walked into the villa with Bashir. The men gathered around them. He held up the briefcase and declared, “In the name of Allah, we’re in business!”

The men cheered.

“The world is about to hear us! Forty-seven lessons on one day! And then again, another forty-seven! And another! Until blood spews out of their ears!”

Everyone cheered again.

Bashir stepped forward. “Now to practical details. We received word from our French hosts. They prefer that we leave the country as soon as possible.” He looked at his watch. “You have until midnight to pack up and be ready to go. I will have operational instructions and cash ready for each team. Allah’s blessings upon you, heroes of Palestine!”

Abu Yusef shook each man’s hand as they left the room. He would follow them out of France after completing the job for Prince Abusalim and collecting the second half of the money.

He carried the briefcase to his bedroom. He placed it on the bed, opened it, and marveled at the green bills. He wished Latif could be here to celebrate this new beginning. He sighed, and thought of the foreign currency manager at the bank. Why not? Better to celebrate with an attractive stranger than alone.