The Jerusalem Inception

Chapter 30





For several weeks, Tanya seldom left her house. She spent day and night listening to UN communications. The European and Indian officers spoke primarily English in varying accents. She was especially attuned to any mention of the UN radar at Government House. Formerly the seat of the British High Commissionaire, in 1948 Government House had become the UN Middle East headquarters. It occupied a high ridge that controlled the southern approaches to Jerusalem as well as the road to Bethlehem and Hebron. It was the highest vantage point in the region, and her equipment tapped into its wireless radio channels and its physical phone lines. Finally, on a morning that brought blooming scents of early spring through her window, Tanya heard a revealing conversation. She wrote down the exchange, switched the equipment to automatic recording, and left the house.

At the IDF command in West Jerusalem, she was taken straight into the office of Brigadier General Tappuzi, military commander of the city.

He looked up. “Good or bad?”

“They’ll open the gates to Jordanian troops as soon as war begins, no matter who started it.”

“And the radar?”

“Goes with the territory.”

“Damn!”

“There’s more,” she said. “Bull allowed them to bring anti-aircraft batteries up to the ridge, just outside the UN compound.”

Tappuzi called a group of officers into the room. They congregated around a map. It quickly became clear that only a massive Israeli air strike at the outset of war could prevent the Jordanian artillery from turning Jewish West Jerusalem into a deathtrap. But with the UN radar and Jordanian anti-aircraft guns working in sync, IDF aerial activities anywhere near Jerusalem would be suicidal.

Tappuzi accompanied Tanya outside. “We have to destroy that radar.”

“You want to attack the UN Mideast Headquarter?”

“What choice do we have?”

“The diplomatic consequences would be catastrophic.”

“Not as catastrophic as Jordanian carpet bombing of West Jerusalem!”

“A lot worse,” Tanya said. “Attacking the UN will make us an international pariah. We’ll lose any support, any chance for armaments or parts for our jets and tanks. The world will install a complete embargo on Israel—no flights, no shipping, no imports of food and oil—”

“Okay. Okay.” He raised his hands. “I got it. No attack on Government House. Fine. But you must find another solution for that radar. I won’t sit still and wait for Jordan to massacre our people!”

The unusually hot spring day made Elie sweat under the beggar’s cloak. The burns on his cheek and neck had almost healed, the scabs dry and peeling off. But the new skin was still red and tender against the rough cloth.

A book landed in his lap. He glanced up and saw Abraham enter the public urinal. The door let out a whiff of stench.

Elie opened The Zohar and leaned over it so that his cloak sheltered it from the eyes of men entering and leaving the foul place. There was no note inside the book. He stuck an envelope between the pages. It contained cash and a note describing the planned recruitment of ultra-Orthodox residents of Jerusalem, including Neturay Karta, to dig trenches in the streets. Abraham was to enlist his own men, as well as convince other rabbis to have their followers join the life-saving effort. The new Office of Civil Defense, which Elie had set up at the IDF command in West Jerusalem, would hand out shovels and city maps showing them where to dig.

Abraham exited the restroom, but rather than pick up the book from Elie’s lap, he walked away. Elie got up and followed him at a distance. Exiting through the long passage onto King George Street, they merged with the midday pedestrian traffic. Farther down the street, Abraham entered an old building. Elie did the same.

The unlit landing was barely enough for them to stand, facing one another beside a rusted stairway railing, which served as an anchor for a dusty bicycle, chained together.

“I decided to quit,” Abraham said. “Immediately. I’m done!”

Elie pulled out a pack of Lucky Strike and tore off the cellophane wrapping. This development was not completely unexpected. Abraham’s rebelliousness had occasionally reared its head over the years, requiring careful manipulation by pressing the correct buttons of grief and guilt, grandiosity and gullibility, which still dominated this powerful-yet-vulnerable man. “What about your fiery disciples?”

“Neturay Karta won’t cause any trouble. I’ve ruled that they must study and pray to make the world better, never attack another Jew. My work is done.”

“Until the next instigation causes them to riot? To throw rocks at innocent people?”

“That’s your problem. I’m quitting.”

“You can’t quit. You’re a spy. A mole. A non-believer among the believers. It’ll take years to find someone like you.”

“I don’t have years. My wife will wither and die before summer.”

“Now isn’t the time for faintheartedness.” He pointed with his cigarette at the book. “Look inside.”

Abraham took out the note and read it by the light from the entrance, where pedestrian traffic kept flowing by. “You think a few trenches will protect us from the Jordanian cannons?”

“A few? We’ll dig up every street and save thousands of lives.” Elie waited a moment to let the image sink in. “Don’t shirk your duty. Israel needs you. Your people need you.”

Stuffing the envelope inside his coat pocket, Abraham looked down at Elie. “My wife cannot live without our son, and our son cannot live among Neturay Karta. And I cannot let her suffer like this. She’s a good woman.”

“Didn’t you tell me that you wanted to leave her for Tanya?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re a secret agent in a crucial post. You made a commitment!”

“Twenty years ago, after you made me believe that Tanya was dead.”

“I told you what I found in the forest. It was true. You drew the conclusion.”

“Enough with the lies! I had nothing to live for in 1945, so I agreed to dedicate my life to this job. But I cannot sacrifice my wife’s life. It’s not mine to sacrifice. And my son should not be an orphan while his parents are alive. He hasn’t replied to Temimah’s letters. It’s up to me to fix the situation. I’m a father and a husband—that’s my duty now!”

“How noble.” Elie tried to control his anger. “And what about your duty to our nation?”

“Cantor Toiterlich can lead the sect for a few years until Benjamin Mashash, my son’s study companion, is ready. Neturay Karta will remain peaceful after I leave, I assure you.”

“You have to wait until after the crisis. Two, maybe three months.”

Abraham nodded.

Satisfied, Elie leaned on a bicycle handlebar. A brief delay was all he needed. Soon, Abraham would have no reason to leave Neturay Karta. “We’ll have to plan carefully. The departure of Rabbi Abraham Gerster could raise suspicion.”

“I’ll tell them that God spoke to me, told me to go and live among the sinners in order to bring them back to His grace. Then I’ll find a tolerant community, where Lemmy can live with us while pursuing his own aspirations—religious or not.” He paused. “Do you know where he’s serving?”

“Not a clue.” Elie raised a hand as if taking an oath. “Tanya made me swear to stay away from your son.”

“He must be very angry with me. It was a terrible spectacle.”

“I heard he shot down the chandelier.”

“He didn’t mean to. The bullet hit the hook, broke it off the ceiling. A fluke.” Abraham chuckled sadly. “Our very own Kristallnacht.”