Avraham Azrieli - The Jerusalem Assassin

“Don’t blame yourself for my decision to serve-”

“You were a pawn!” Tanya stood, her voice suddenly filled with anger. “The three of us-Abraham, me, and Elie-we each had our own designs on you, young Jerusalem Gerster. We each had our own selfish agenda, cloaked in good intentions, to guard little Lemmy against the other two.”

“ But I made my own decision to read the books you gave me, to pursue you, to make love to you, to leave Neturay Karta-all were my choices! Mine alone!”

“ Please, don’t yell.” She saw his anger and understood it. How could he accept that his life had been manipulated by three Holocaust survivors locked in a twisted triangle of love, hate, and misguided patriotism? How could he admit that he had paid so dearly for the sins of others?

“I chose to join Elie, and I don’t regret it.”

“ It wasn’t an informed choice. You were a naive adolescent. We played with your life. Your father intended to shelter you from reality, keep you in the sect, groom you to Talmudic stardom, but his selfish agenda was to install you as leader so he could become free from a life of lies. And me? I wanted to protect you from Neturay Karta’s fanatical ideology, to set you free, to save you from a future of ignorance and enslavement to the tyranny of religious oppression, but my selfish agenda was to lure you into my orbit, to possess you because I couldn’t have your father. And Elie’s stated goal was to give you an opportunity to serve the nation heroically in a role that required a German-looking, bright youth to be planted as a mole in Switzerland, to chase the biggest Nazi loot, which in turn would be used for his grand scheme of Counter Final Solution. But Elie could have recruited someone else. His selfish motivation was to punish Abraham and me for loving each other, to separate us forever by guilt and grief, and he succeeded. I should have warned you about Elie. I can see it now so clearly, how he manipulated all of us!”

“I don’t think you understand how incredible Elie’s plan is. I’ve dedicated my life to its success, and we are very close to launching it.”

“Nonsense. Elie is finished.”

“Don’t underestimate him again.”

“That devil! He’s a fanatic, dedicated to revenge, not to healing and building. Do you really believe anti-Semitism could be eradicated through mass murder?”

“Who’s talking about mass murder? Our network of agents will conduct surgical assassinations of individuals-not only active terrorists and their sponsors, but anyone who perpetuates anti-Jew hatred, who instigates hostility toward Israel, who is like a cancerous tumor that would metastasize and spread unless excised with a slash of our scalpel. Imagine how history would have turned out if Hitler was eliminated in nineteen thirty-three? Or if Pope Urban II was dispatched to meet his savior before he called up the first crusade? Or if Ferdinand and Isabella died before they expelled the Jews from Spain? Or if the Roman emperor-”

“So you’ll kill politicians and clergy. How about academics? Writers? Filmmakers? Cartoonists?”

“Their venom could be as deadly as an explosive belt. Eliminating them will save many Jewish lives. It’s justifiable self-defense.”

“Arbitrary execution without judicial process? That’s murder!”

“We’ll set up our own secret judicial process. Elie is right. The goal justifies all means. The very fate of the Jewish people is at stake.” Lemmy shrugged. “Our personal feelings and sacrifices are irrelevant.”

Tanya dropped his hands as if they had become too hot. “Then you too are a fanatic!”

*

“ Excuse me.” Elie Weiss removed the plastic oxygen mask from his face. “What day is it?” He knew the answer, but the young guard seemed gullible enough to play the role Elie had planned for him.

“It’s Friday.” He pointed at the window, where the sun was setting. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Friday?” Elie looked at the glowing view. “Then Sabbath will begin soon.”

The guard nodded. Outside the door, the nurses were chattering at their station, and patients’ relatives paced up and down the corridor. Elie had his own ICU room. A closed-circuit camera was monitored outside his door by two guards in three shifts of eight hours. Elie had engaged them in casual conversations, building rapport. They were not Shin Bet agents but students, who worked part-time in security after having finished their mandatory IDF service in combat units. They didn’t know who he was, and their instructions were to keep him in isolation. He was not allowed to use the phone, and only medical personnel entered his room.

“The holy Sabbath.” He pressed a button, and the bed rose to a sitting position. “My last Sabbath.”

The guard’s blushing discomfort was exactly what Elie expected.

“ A person can feel the end. Do you know?”

The guard looked away. “Well, I’ll be outside.”

“Is there a synagogue here?” He knew the answer. Hadassah Hospital had a chapel on the lobby level, where a rabbi led services three times a day. “I want to pray before I die.”

“We’re not supposed to-”

“You can see.” Elie tried to smile. “I can’t run away.”

The guard stuck his head out the door and exchanged a few words with his partner. They helped Elie out of bed and into a wheelchair. A short elevator ride took them down to the lobby, where they followed a sign to the synagogue.

It was a windowless room with a modest wooden ark. About fifteen men, most of them in hospital gowns, rocked over prayer books. The rabbi was a youngish man with a short beard and glasses. He read each portion of the evening service in a thin, pleading voice.

Once Elie’s wheelchair was secured at the back of the room, one of the guards fetched a yarmulke and put it on Elie’s head. The other gave him a prayer book. They went to the door and stood just outside, engaged in a hushed conversation.

When the service reached a quiet part, with each man murmuring the prayers, Elie caught the rabbi’s eye. He came over and shook Elie’s hand. “May God bless you with a full and complete recovery.”

“I’m dying,” Elie said, leaning forward, his lips close by the rabbi’s ear. “I must get my own rabbi’s blessing, but they’re not letting me call him.”

The rabbi glanced at the two guards. “I’m sorry, but this is not something I can help-”

“Rabbi Abraham Gerster of Neturay Karta. Have you heard of him?”

The rabbi’s eyes widened. “Who hasn’t?”

“Tomorrow night,” Elie said, his voice masked by the praying men around them, “after the Sabbath, go there and give him this note.” He pressed a piece of paper into the rabbi’s hand. “God will reward you for helping a dying Jew.”

*

The bench they were sitting on faced the low wall. As Lemmy stood up, his eye caught a movement among the trees by the giant chess board. “How many people did you bring?”

“ None.”

“ The Israeli Mossad sends a woman alone on a mission?”

“ I expected a business meeting with a nervous banker,” Tanya said, “not a shootout.” She started to turn around.

“ Don’t look.” He pretended to tie his shoe. “Perhaps your superiors sent a backup team?”

“ I run all Mossad activities in Europe.”

He was impressed. “Could your subordinates have followed to watch your back?”

“ Not without my knowledge.”

“There’s a man in a beige coat over there.”

“Maybe he’s a local getting some fresh air?”

“In this weather? Crouching behind a tree? I don’t think so.” Lemmy took her arm. “Are you armed?”

“No. I flew commercial from Tel Aviv this morning.” She leaned against him as they strolled toward the chess boards and the only exit. “How many bullets do you have left?”