Mishka Ben-David - Forbidden Love in St. Petersburg

On our way to bed Anna asked what I wanted to watch tomorrow, but I couldn’t think.

There’s a film that fits in well with our situation, Anna said, filling the silence. Un Homme et Une Femme , remember it? Claude Lelouch?

I suppose I saw it twenty years ago but no, I don’t remember, but it’s fine with me.

It’s so easy with you, Anna said happily, with you everything is ‘fine’.

How could I possibly tell her that nothing on my side was at all ‘fine’. My thoughts wandered from the film to Anna, to our love for each other, to the lie inside me, to the ambiguousness of the past and to Mossad HQ where, perhaps right now, my defiant message was being discussed. What slippery slope would I be sliding down tomorrow morning?

WHEN MY REPLY was received at HQ, Udi cancelled the meeting convened by Ariel and announced that he would discuss the matter at his weekly session with Netzach later that day. Levanon was asked to join him. After a brief review, during which the Mossad’s chief was shown the exchange of messages, his position was crystal clear: Paul either completely backs out of the relationship with the woman or you return him to Israel, and the sooner the better.

I don’t have anyone to replace him right now, Udi said, but the chief was adamant: send someone who’ll learn what our man does there and later on that person can pass on what he knows to whoever you find as a successor. And if that doesn’t work out, then I prefer losing the network of contacts that Paul has built up in Russia and the former Soviet Republics rather than finding myself with an operative on the loose or being investigated by the FSB.

Levanon asked for permission to speak: I’m sure that Paul won’t harm the security interests of the state in any way. I’ve been with him on operations where he really disagreed with the decisions and was sure that it was possible to achieve the aim in a different way–without going to any extremes–but after having his views heard, and once the final decision was taken, he carried it out.

Not always to the very end, Udi noted.

That’s true, but he did to the point at which the operation was being executed. Whether it was then two bullets to the head as he did, or three as we are drilled to do, is less important.

What are you trying to say? The chief interrupted the finessing of nuance.

I’m trying to say that if Paul is allowed to carry out the mission his way, he’ll do it. And ‘his way’ means, apparently, with the woman. In my experience at least, this won’t be the first time that something like this has happened to an operative.

When I try to picture the situation, Udi said, I can easily visualize assignments that he fails to perform because he can’t hide them from the woman. This certainly imposes serious limitations on his ability to act. Perhaps not on a day-to-day basis but suppose, for example, that there is a situation in which we require support or operational intelligence on Christmas Day.

In a nutshell, it’s as I said, the chief ruled. Get him back home. I, after all, met with him when the post was offered. He’d cracked up completely. And something that is cracked can either get glued back together again or fall apart. In my view what has happened here is a falling apart. And however much sympathy you may have for the guy, and I too am sympathetic towards him, we cannot allow ourselves to have a completely cracked operative in Russia.

And if he accepts our diktat? Levanon gave it another try.

Then let me know and I’ll eat my hat, the chief answered. But it’s not going to happen.

When the message came back to me from Israel I was completely prepared for the decision. Though Udi tried to soften things he couldn’t refrain from noting the bottom line.

I go back to what was said in yesterday’s message, he wrote. A permanent relationship is against the rules and has to be avoided. There is to be no relationship on a permanent basis and within this rule you are not to live together. Netzach demands that the breakup is immediate and if it is difficult for you then you must return to Israel at once. And that’s unrelated to our need for you here in matters connected to Levanon’s activities.

In due course I was to discover the extent to which Udi had wavered before writing the message. How, together with Levanon, he’d searched for the exact phrasing that would enable me to reconsider my position without feeling threatened or humiliated and how, among the scenarios they conjured up between them, they’d also raised the very chain of events that actually took place. ‘If it is difficult for you,’ he wrote. Nice of him, I thought. Nice that he at least considered the possibility that this was not some childish game but was, in fact, a relationship that would be difficult to disentangle. However, this was of no comfort. The Mossad chief’s hands-on involvement was a sign of the importance which the organization attached to this situation and a clear indication that they weren’t about to back off. The chief’s codename, Netzach, means ‘eternity’ in Hebrew; evidence, perhaps, of his intention–like that of his predecessors–to secure a place in history. I hoped it wouldn’t be at my expense. Since it indeed was ‘difficult’ for me to immediately break off the relationship–‘you must return to Israel at once’ was the only other option they’d offered.

In my mind, the wording of the reply came to me without a struggle. Over the previous few days I’d taken a close look at myself, at my love, my life of lies, at the damage that life of deception had done to me. I weighed all this up against my oath of fidelity to Anna and my loyalty to the Mossad and the state, and the answer that popped out of the fog was clear.

Dear Udi, Levanon, and all of you who cherish a memory of me, I started the letter and continued: I won’t weary you with the difficult twists and turns of the thought processes I have gone through, nor describe the enormity of my love and its meaning for me. The option you have left me with is no option at all. I cannot part from a woman who has breathed life back into me. Though it saddens me, I understand that you are unwilling to accept this. With that the path we walked together has come to an end.

It’s my intention to leave the office as it is now, and the keys will be sent by post to our company in Montreal. You can collect them at the service office there. There are no pending transactions just now, and everything is documented, so it’s possible to continue from where I left off–especially the ongoing deals with the former Soviet Republics. I am circulating a notice that I’m going on vacation. New Year and Christmas are just around the corner–I’m sure you know that for the Russian Orthodox the birth of Jesus is celebrated about a week after New Year–so that my announcement will be well understood and I hope that by then you’ll be sending somebody to re-open the office here.

And now for what is, in my view, the main point and one which it’s important for you to know: I have found no way of telling Anna about my real identity. For you that is perhaps important from a security point of view but for me there are also other considerations. My marriage collapsed because of a failure to tell the truth, and I don’t intend to risk that happening again. The only way left open to me is to turn the lie into a truth. To become Paul Gupta and erase Yogev Ben-Ari altogether.

There is nobody waiting for me in Israel. I’ll not be in touch about my mother’s care, I hope that Orit–and perhaps you–will do that. I have not stopped loving our complex country, but I have nothing there to make me come back, and here I have a woman who means everything to me.