Mishka Ben-David - Forbidden Love in St. Petersburg

Udi, as always, was already thinking ahead:

Levanon, would you take him back into the planning department and have him involved in operations? he asked.

In the last operation he was almost caught and we suspended him from such activities. But if he’s in a slightly better state of mind I definitely prefer him to the people I now have. With all his limitations, and he has some, he never screwed up an operation, which you can’t say about the teams of youngsters.

I was happy to discover that Levanon, who more than anyone else knew my operational limitations, chose to praise my abilities. But the transcripts showed that not everybody at the meeting was on my side.

From a security point of view there’s a problem with him staying there, said Eli. If it was just a fuck, so be it. But he says that it’s his intention to continue the relationship. Can anyone say what he’s inadvertently divulging there and what his lady friend might do with it? Let’s face it, if he gets to be interrogated it will be a disaster. He’s got fifteen years of operations floating around in his head.

Is the KGB still that intimidating? Udi turned to Alex.

It’s not called the KGB anymore but, of course, you know that. It split into two, there’s the security service which deals with external affairs, as we do, and the Federal Security Bureau, the FSB, which looks after internal matters, including preventative intelligence. But it’s the same meat with a different gravy. After all, they couldn’t throw tens of thousands of workers onto the streets. Their methods haven’t really changed, nor have their objectives. Every foreigner is suspect and closely watched. That includes phone tapping, faxes and emails until its shown that there’s nothing on him or her. If there are real grounds for suspicion then the scrutiny becomes even tighter with surveillance, bugging, photographing and break-ins.

Ultimately they can put a whole team around him and in the end they will expose him.

Ilan, can you assess his response if we instruct him to end the relationship? Udi asked.

I don’t have enough information for such an evaluation, the psychologist answered. My gut feeling is that if she’s someone who’s lifted him out of his depression it won’t be easy for him to give her up.

I’m not in favour of making things difficult for him, Levanon intervened. We’ve known him for fifteen years. He’s a balanced and responsible guy; perhaps too balanced and responsible, he won’t let any information slip out.

And I think we need to consider getting him back here in light of the possible damage of him staying, Eli repeated his view.

OK, my friends, I’m dictating an answer, Udi said. Write this down, Ariel:

A permanent relationship is against the regulations, and has to be avoided. There is to be no relationship on a permanent basis and no living together. Please make do with the necessary minimum, and break off the relationship gradually. The security risk is real. Your return to Israel is being considered in light of the dismal results of the last operation in Singapore. You’re needed. Thanks for opening up the area. Now we’re looking for someone who can replace you.

That’s it, Udi said and looked around at those present. I think I took all your comments into account and prepared him for the possibility that he will be returning.

And please add, he said to Ariel, that he should let us have the woman’s full name and every other detail he knows about her. The address of the apartment, the address of the shop and even her ID number if he can. And I’ll sign off on the message, not you. Alex, when the details come in start activating sources in Russia to find out about her. But with the utmost caution because every suspicious activity will put him at risk as well; so dir balak , be careful, he added in Arabic. Use only trustworthy and reliable sources.

An email from the European company indicated that there was a message from HQ. The fact that Udi was the signatory was only a small comfort; the pill was bitter and hard to swallow. I could live with the ‘necessary minimum’. Nobody could possibly know what the ‘necessary minimum’ for me actually was. I could also quibble with the meaning of ‘permanent basis’; we weren’t getting married and no one had given me a guarantee as to how long this love of ours would last. The term ‘gradually’ was also a nebulous term. How long was this ‘gradualness’ supposed to last? Months? A year? But Udi, with all the appropriate cautiousness, and with all the wriggle room he had left me, had made his intent very clear. ‘Not to live together’. That was unambiguous. You can fuck her but then go home, or send her home. If push came to shove I could also live with that. Couples of our age and in our circumstances don’t always and immediately move in together, and after an initial spell of being in love, the body can also do without daily contact.

But the tidings ‘a return to Israel is being considered’ were hard to digest. I thought–and so did HQ in the past–in terms of a stay of about four years in Russia. Not four months, or six, until they found a replacement. The reality of a possible return, of the transience of my stay here and its dependence entirely on the mercy of HQ, was what hit me hard.

What really cut me to the quick was the realization that I wasn’t master of my fate or of my time, nor of my choices in life, the places where I would live, the people I would meet. Above all else I wasn’t master of my love. That harsh truth dawned on me before I grew bitter about being a pawn on the Mossad’s global chessboard, about every plan being essentially open to unilateral changes dictated by HQ’s needs, and about the attempt to return me to operations without asking what I might have to say.

The very idea that my love for Annushka was subject to the Mossad’s say-so, that the amount of time I spent with her would be limited by its edict, and the dark and sudden shadow of our imminent separation, aroused a recalcitrance in me that grew to the point where I felt my heat would explode.

I couldn’t pull myself together and the time for going back to the apartment neared. I knew that Anna was able to read me like a book, that I couldn’t pretend to her that all was well and that moving into her apartment had made me blissfully happy. Nor could I contemplate making her sad yet again.

For a while I dithered about whether I should inform HQ that I wasn’t prepared to comply with their demands, or leave things ambiguous. When I’d finished the bitter-tasting coffee, it was clear to me that there was no room here for ambiguity. I didn’t want to break the rules but nor did I want to give up Anna. That was the simple truth and that I had to clarify. The focus of my life was now here, with Anna. My preference was not to make a choice. However, even though the Mossad had been the centre of my life over the past decade and a half, if I have to choose I’ll choose Anna. And yet, I still didn’t want to say this too bluntly because that would be a clear violation of the orders I’d been given. As in the army, there is a difference between refusing to obey a command and not carrying out an instruction to the letter.

Udi, I began and wrote quickly: I’d prefer to be brief in describing the difficulties I’ve had making a decision. Anna Starzava is the only ray of light in my life right now. And despite all the love I have for you and my loyalty to you, I am not able to give her up. This is not a matter of a lax interpretation of the ‘necessary minimum’ or ‘gradually’. As long as there is this love between us, I want to be with Anna–and do my work as best I can. Please don’t force me to choose–I’ve already lost one great love and you know precisely why and how. Also, don’t think about returning me to Israel in the near future–I’m really in no fit state for operations now.