The Jerusalem Assassin Read Online Free PDF Page A

still want to run the Mossad?”
    “A good politician’s supposed to forget his broken promises.”
    “I remember those more than the ones I fulfilled.”
    Almost three decades ago, on the eve of the Six Day War, IDF Chief of Staff Yitzhak Rabin had promised to appoint Elie Weiss to run Mossad—if Rabin ever became prime minister. But the appointment never came despite Rabin’s ascendance to the pinnacle of political power in 1974 and again in 1992. During those years, Elie had operated in Europe, where he hunted down elderly Nazis and performed unique tasks for successive prime ministers, who occasionally needed to bypass the Mossad for political, legal, or financial reasons.
    Elie’s semi-independent Special Operations Department had its own funding sources, known only to him. And with the political winds shifting against the Oslo peace process, he saw his chance again. It was now or never. “My reward will be an appointment as intelligence czar. I’ll be your point man for Mossad and Shin Bet.”
    “Both of them?”
    “Yes.”
    The prime minister removed his glasses and examined Elie, as if questioning his sanity. “You want to run Mossad and Shin Bet?”
    This was a crucial moment. Should Rabin take the bait, Elie would control the most powerful spy apparatus in the world.
    “They’ll have their own respective chiefs,” Elie said calmly. “They’ll continue to report to you—through me. As part of your Prime Minister Office, I will coordinate all clandestine activities, including intelligence gathering and covert operations—domestic and overseas.”
    “I’m an elected leader, you’re not. I can’t vest so much power in one person. We’re a democracy. There’s a reason Shin Bet may only operate within our borders and Mossad only overseas.”
    Elie gestured in dismissal. “It’s a meaningless distinction. An imitation of the American FBI and CIA. We’re a small country under siege, facing chronic existential risks. For Israel the line between domestic and overseas security is irrelevant.”
    The demonstrators outside broke into a new chant: “ In blood, and fire, Rabin will expire! ”
    The prime minister tilted his head at the window. “Bizarre, isn’t it? One day I’m signing a peace agreement in Washington to the tune of worldwide cheers, and the next day I’m sitting in my Jerusalem home and hear my countrymen call for my death.”
    The chant grew louder. “ In blood, and fire, Rabin will expire! ”
    *
    In Paris, Gideon was soaping himself under a warm shower when he heard the bathroom door open. “Bathsheba?”
    “Who else?” She dropped the toilet seat. “What are you using? It smells great!”
    He made sure the curtain was closed. “Can I have some privacy?”
    “Almost done.”
    A moment later he heard her flush, which sent the water temperature spiking in the shower. “Ouch!” He stepped out of the stream. “Do you mind?”
“Sorry.” She laughed behind the curtain. “Need help scrubbing your back?”
    “Don’t—”
    Bathsheba stepped into the shower. She was naked but for her peace-sign necklace. “Worry not. I’m here for hygienic purposes only.” She snatched the sponge from his hand, made him turn around, and started scrubbing his back.
    Gideon lifted his leg to step out of the shower. “This is totally unprofessional!”
    “We’re not professionals.” She blocked his way. “We’re rogue gunmen for an old butcher who suffers from a Holocaust complex.”
    “You underestimate Elie.”
    “And you underestimate me.” She used round motions, pressing the sponge to his skin at just the right force, leaving a fire that was a notch below actual pain, but high enough to make him groan. He leaned with both hands against the tiled wall, surrendering to her capable hands. She worked on his shoulders, treating his muscles to a soapy massage, scrubbed his neck up to his hairline, then traveled down his spine. “Nice ass,” she said.
    “Hey!”
    “Relax,”