Tsunami Connection Read Online Free PDF Page A

."
    "Impossible, not in HaMossad. There're no goyim here. You must be misinformed."
    "Remember in the desert when we were training …
remember what we did with cigarette ends?"
    "Of course, we shredded them and let the wind take them
as it pleased."
    "All comes to he who waits. I'm talking too much. I
care for you. She's an exception to the rule."
    "Didn't you used to say all is lost to he who
hesitates? Turning melodramatic in andropause – you've spent too much time in
Washington. Is it true you cry during films now? You like to eat too much,
Samuel, and we both know all about unasked-for advice."
    "You are like a son to me, but, even to my son I have
spoken too much. Oleh , Olah and Olim ."
    "Why use that expression and talk of being one? I see
no sure signs of death here. I see only beauty."
    "Let us say, she came to Israel and it is almost
impossible for one to avoid hitting their head on a few clouds on the way up.
She will hit many more.″ 
    "Why the riddles, Sam. Her name?"
    "Kefira." 
    "The lioness, how appropriate."
    "Do you purposefully choose the less common
interpretation of her name?"
    "More enigmas?"
    "The more common meaning is heresy. Now I have to
go," said Sam, the thickness of his chin betraying the years since he had
worked in the field. He nodded at someone nearby. As Sam turned to leave, the
young man at whom he'd nodded bumped Zak, spilling coffee on his crisp olive
uniform. Anger flared in Zak's eyes as he prepared to demonstrate the chutzpah
that so many unknowing visitors to Israel find difficult to deal with.
    "You," he said, looking his oldest friend in the
eyes.
    Zak shook his head rolling his long, thick, curly locks
around the etched angular lines of his face. His dark eyes flitted around
uncontrollably. Where's she gone? he thought, as his eyes caught
movement in the back of the room. Sam let Kefira out ahead of him, partially
blocking her from the side of the room, but Zak caught the unmistakable
honey-colored calf in low red heels, surrounded by gladiator-style red leather
straps.
    Sam, Sam. What are you up to? he thought as he turned
back to his friend. "Since when are you playing games for Sam?"
    "Sam, who's Sam?" asked Zak's friend.
    "Forget I ever asked," replied Zak, shaking his
head.
    "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Come my
friend, the seminars 're starting," said the other young man, while he
threw his wiry right arm around his friend's neck, whispering under his breath: Sam has a sixth sense. ″It's all water under the bridge,"
said the friend.
    Their seminar started and worked them dutifully on their
mastery of English, especially idiomatic expressions. They were the last of a
previously much larger clandestine agent development training school. The
purpose of the program was to insert its graduates anywhere that the state of
Israel might be threatened. All were in an ongoing indoctrination curriculum
that had started years ago. Most of the students shared one common background:
suicide bombers or terrorists had killed their parents. There were twenty-one
of them.
    When Kefira walked past Sam in the doorway, he took in her
perfume, made from musky spices. Around her neck, she wore beads from Saharan
Africa, necklaces worn by the Berber women of the Blue Men, the Tuareg of
southern Libya. The beads absorbed and enhanced the natural scent of the body
and were used by nomadic tribal women in their preparations while waiting for
their men to return to the marriage bed. The women would rub oil scented with
cinnamon, clove, and sometimes cardamom into their skin while sitting in a tent
warmed by a small burning stove. Sam's eyelids lifted as she passed, her aroma
creating a mixture of arousal and therapy in the older man.
    "We must go the auditorium now," said Sam.
    "Why were you talking of me to him?" she asked.
    "Who are you talking about?" replied Sam.
    "As if you didn't know that one of my strongest
abilities is lip reading at a distance–″
    "He is like my son and