Vladimir Fomin - Gambit

“Zivah and I are the first two women who made it into the Sayeret Matkal. You’ll meet Zivah later today. After I finished my doctorate, remember I was still in the IDF, I looked for another challenge, and I found it. I asked Tamir if he could get me into the program, and, reluctantly, he did. Zivah and I were in the same class and I couldn’t have gotten through it without her – that’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s been very rewarding: How many women do you know who serve in a Special Forces unit who also have a PhD in nuclear engineering?”

“Ah… you would be the first.”

“Yeah, well as Iran’s progress with its nuclear program became more pronounced, I was a natural fit with Ben’s team. Ben’s been doing this for close to ten years now; I’m on my fourth with the team.”

“I kind of thought you’d been over here before.”

“Yeah, I’ve lost track of the times I’ve been over here. Often enough that we know some of the border guards by name. That being said, we still compartmentalize the nature of each mission – only Ben, Yoni, and myself fully know the nature of most of our missions. Obviously, since I’m Ops, I usually know the nature of each mission but Ben’s in charge – he can change the mission as he sees fit.”

“Just when does Ben plan on telling the rest of us what we’ll be doing?”

“He usually fills everyone in at the last possible moment. We’re all exceptionally well trained and we’ve been working together for the last four years. Zivah and I were the last two to join the team and having two women on the team adds to our cover – the Iranians would never suspect two women would be part of a Sayeret Matkal team, after all, you didn’t,” she said with a smirk that screamed “Gotcha.”

“Yeah, you got me there. So, just what all do you do when you’re not “lockin’ horns with the Iranians?”

“‘Lockin’ horns,’ huh? I see where this is going. I may be Israeli but I’m not that far removed from A & M – see this ring here?” she asked, referencing her Aggie ring, as she held out her right hand ring finger. “I’m still an Aggie.”

“What? Everyone knows there’s only one real school in Texas.”

“I know, and it’s in College Station. I mean, have you ever been to Austin? That’s one of the drabbest and dullest places in Texas; even their school colors reflect the community: a dried up, burnt up orange.”

“Yeah, well at least those of us in Austin knew we were at a university; we didn’t need to name the community after the type of school we were at, just in case we forgot.”

“Touché. Well, to answer your question, I do a lot to stay in shape; I do a lot of jogging and swimming, when I can. I read when I get the chance, a lot of non-fiction, Mideast history for the most part, and I really enjoy playing the piano. The piano is probably my favorite; it’s just so relaxing, I can totally lose myself in it.”

“So, in addition to being a full-fledged PhD in nuclear engineering and a highly trained commando, you’re also a concert pianist?”

“I didn’t say that I’m a concert pianist, just that I really enjoy the piano,” Dani replied with a sly grin. “Though, I am pretty good,” she added.

“I bet you are, and, after knowing you for only a couple of days, you seem to be one that, no matter what you do, you do it to excess. I mean look at it: You received your PhD in nuclear engineering from a fairly prestigious university, you’re in the highly specialized Sayeret Matkal, you drive an exceptionally nice car, your sense of style is incredible; shall I go on?”

“Think you have me pegged pretty good, huh? But doesn’t the old adage say that ‘if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing to excess’? But no, I’m not a concert pianist – that would be my sister; she’s incredible. She studied in New York at Julliard. She’s a couple year’s older than me and has played in some of the finest orchestras in the States and here in Israel. She’s the one who really got me interested in the piano.”

“So, is your whole family a bunch of over achievers?” Jackson asked.

“There’s just the two of us, and my parents, of course. But we are very competitive; we both just hate to lose, at anything. I think we feed off of each other.”

“Yeah, I can believe that. How did everyone feel about you signing up for Sayeret Matkal?”

“My sister thought it was pretty cool; my folks were dead-set against it. My dad, being a former paratrooper, has obviously seen his share of action and he definitely did not want his little girl trying out to be an elite commando but he knew he couldn’t stop me. I’m sure he talked with Tamir ahead of time to try and discourage me, and I did speak with Tamir, but he was very fair with everything. Like I said, that was the toughest thing I’ve ever done. But what about you? It seems that I’m the one doing all the talking.”

“Who, me?” Jackson replied. “There’s nothing special about me.”

“Right. You appear to be rather young for a full bird colonel and, from what I understand, you have, what, three Silver Stars? Then there’s your eye patch, and with one eye, you still managed to requalify for the Special Forces – there’s gotta be a story behind that.”

“Nah, no real story, stuff like that kind of happens when you’re too close to an Iraqi mortar. As for the rest, I guess that’s what you get when people exaggerate about some of the things you’ve done.”

* * *

When Jackson and his fellow team members arrived at the safe house, he was more than a little surprised that Dani walked right in the front door without bothering to unlock the door in some manner or to alert anyone who might have been inside. Dani had been to this house before and took more than a little pleasure in showing Jackson all the “amenities” this house provided – starting with the entrance. Jackson had used safe houses before in his career with the Special Forces, and was rather surprised at the apparent lack of security as the door seemed to be unlocked as Dani had walked right in. Playing off of his amazement, Dani took Stonewall back out front and had him try and open the door, only to find the door completely locked – and very solid. Dani, then, simply opened the door for Jackson to let him back in the house. At this point, Jackson began to realize just how sophisticated this safe house really was.

“Oh, this is good; this is really cool. Is there some sort of facial recognition key that automatically unlocks the door?” Jackson asked.

“Close; there’s a biometric sensor at the door that picks up on both facial recognition and behavioral analytics to function as the ‘key’, ” Dani replied. She could see that Jackson was suitably impressed – and she loved showing off.

For his part, Jackson had used safe houses before, but nothing like this – this “house” was more like a small fortress, complete with an eight foot wall around the perimeter: to all but the most trained eye, each window could stop a 7.62 bullet; he didn’t see any cameras but he knew they were there as well, both inside and out. Dani took him to the basement control room where he realized just how thorough the camera surveillance really was: multiple cameras had every square inch of the property – and its approaches – thoroughly covered, with multiple redundancy; if someone tried to sneak up and disable even half a dozen cameras, there were still more. Dani showed Jackson the “armory” next; in addition to the usual small arms, this arsenal had enough hardware to take out a battalion of tanks and to take down a small squadron of fighters – even an aerial assault could be met with fierce resistance. Jackson had been so taken in by Dani and the “amenities” of the house that he had totally failed to realize that there were three inhabitants of the residence. Ben, and the rest of Jackson’s new Israeli friends, did not fail to, good naturally, remind him of their presence!