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Authors: Yiftach Reicher Atir
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but he at her age had already read . . . and he would reel off a whole list, just like the required reading list that she received when she arrived at university.
ââAre you nervous?â I asked after we finished checking the luggage. Rachel stretched out her legs in the jeans and looked at me. âWhat have I to be nervous about?â she said. âIâm going to look into prospects for work, the opportunity to earn a little money.â âAnd the journey? How are you financing it? And where do your parents live? And who can be contacted if we need to ask questions about you?â She knew all the answers, but she knew something else. That I would be here when she came back. That I would wait for her to call on reaching the hotel, and I would never sit behind a desk, embalmed in a suit, far from her.
ââNo, Iâm not afraid,â she added, âI just want everything to be done right. I already want to be on the way back.â I looked at her hands, clasped around her knees, at the delicate bracelet on her right arm, the thin and bony wrist. Tomorrow sheâll be like a pilot flyingsolo for the first time, except that the pilot goes out for about twenty minutes, and sheâll be there for many weeks before she sees me again. Up to this point I had been close to her in all the exercises. I waited for her on the other side of the border, played the part of her friend when she was interviewed at the language school in Rome, and it was only when she went to the enemyâs embassy to apply for a visa that I stayed behind and waited for her in a nearby café.
âI felt the tension gripping me too, the feeling that I was putting her under pressure. âCome on,â I said, and made an effort not to hold her hand. âLetâs go and eat. Weâll take a break. We can talk over a meal, nothing is running away, and anyway the shops are closed. What you havenât bought you probably donât need.â Rachel put on her shoes and moved toward the door as if obeying an order. She was tall, and slim, and she knew this made the right impression on me. The short and straight coiffure framed her face and gave it the forceful look that I wanted to see, and I admit I couldnât stop my eyes wandering over her, and I hoped I wasnât annoying her. Iâm twenty years older than her, and even back then I had a small paunch and a respectable bald patch.
âShe stood by the door with her back to me, and I thought, Despite all the time we have spent together I know too little about her, and even with all the training and the preparations Iâm not sure it will all go according to plan. Just a few months ago I told headquarters she wasnât ready, she didnât know the assignment, was incapable of telling her life history without mistakes and she would stumble the moment she arrived at enemy territory, and tomorrow sheâs going to board a plane, fasten her seat belt, look around her, and when the plane takes off on its way to the capital city sheâll know sheâs alone. Sheâll know sheâs going to a place where those who are caught are hanged. If she falls, only God can lift her up.
âI led her to the corner table. Rachel sat facing the door, as she had been taught, so she could see anyone coming in, and she put on her gloomy expression, the look that says: Iâm here because you asked me to come, because you told me to go out with you. I knew it, that look, she used it several times in the course of training, and it grieved me each time. I thought perhaps I was forcing myself upon her; perhaps I was deviating from whatâs allowed between a case officer and his operative. With a man the situation is clear. You go out with him, socialize with him, and the conversation never digresses from the subject of the operation that heâs responsible for. With her it was different, and it looked that way too. There were other
ââAre you nervous?â I asked after we finished checking the luggage. Rachel stretched out her legs in the jeans and looked at me. âWhat have I to be nervous about?â she said. âIâm going to look into prospects for work, the opportunity to earn a little money.â âAnd the journey? How are you financing it? And where do your parents live? And who can be contacted if we need to ask questions about you?â She knew all the answers, but she knew something else. That I would be here when she came back. That I would wait for her to call on reaching the hotel, and I would never sit behind a desk, embalmed in a suit, far from her.
ââNo, Iâm not afraid,â she added, âI just want everything to be done right. I already want to be on the way back.â I looked at her hands, clasped around her knees, at the delicate bracelet on her right arm, the thin and bony wrist. Tomorrow sheâll be like a pilot flyingsolo for the first time, except that the pilot goes out for about twenty minutes, and sheâll be there for many weeks before she sees me again. Up to this point I had been close to her in all the exercises. I waited for her on the other side of the border, played the part of her friend when she was interviewed at the language school in Rome, and it was only when she went to the enemyâs embassy to apply for a visa that I stayed behind and waited for her in a nearby café.
âI felt the tension gripping me too, the feeling that I was putting her under pressure. âCome on,â I said, and made an effort not to hold her hand. âLetâs go and eat. Weâll take a break. We can talk over a meal, nothing is running away, and anyway the shops are closed. What you havenât bought you probably donât need.â Rachel put on her shoes and moved toward the door as if obeying an order. She was tall, and slim, and she knew this made the right impression on me. The short and straight coiffure framed her face and gave it the forceful look that I wanted to see, and I admit I couldnât stop my eyes wandering over her, and I hoped I wasnât annoying her. Iâm twenty years older than her, and even back then I had a small paunch and a respectable bald patch.
âShe stood by the door with her back to me, and I thought, Despite all the time we have spent together I know too little about her, and even with all the training and the preparations Iâm not sure it will all go according to plan. Just a few months ago I told headquarters she wasnât ready, she didnât know the assignment, was incapable of telling her life history without mistakes and she would stumble the moment she arrived at enemy territory, and tomorrow sheâs going to board a plane, fasten her seat belt, look around her, and when the plane takes off on its way to the capital city sheâll know sheâs alone. Sheâll know sheâs going to a place where those who are caught are hanged. If she falls, only God can lift her up.
âI led her to the corner table. Rachel sat facing the door, as she had been taught, so she could see anyone coming in, and she put on her gloomy expression, the look that says: Iâm here because you asked me to come, because you told me to go out with you. I knew it, that look, she used it several times in the course of training, and it grieved me each time. I thought perhaps I was forcing myself upon her; perhaps I was deviating from whatâs allowed between a case officer and his operative. With a man the situation is clear. You go out with him, socialize with him, and the conversation never digresses from the subject of the operation that heâs responsible for. With her it was different, and it looked that way too. There were other
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