Disappearance
Authors: Niv Kaplan
DISAPPEARANCE
Niv Kaplan
Copyright © 2012 Niv Kaplan
All rights reserved
. ISBN: 978-1490338552
ISBN-13: 1490338551
To My Love Tali
and My Seven Beautiful Children
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This novel has waited a very long time to be published and could not have been written without the love and patience of my family and friends.
Though the characters are fictional, they are all shadows of my life.
As a token
of appreciation, here are the first three chapters of my second book "TRACKS".
Click here
Another Great Novel by Niv Kaplan
PROLOGUE
The commandos could only speculate why this particular night was chosen for the mission. The major and his lieutenants were supposed to be experienced enough to know the risks of operating on such a luminous night.
The air was cold and still. The few scattered clouds did little to conceal the brilliant full moon. The distinct contours of the rugged, unforgiving land could be seen in great detail for miles around.
Sergeant Eitan Barlev would have welcomed a full moon on almost any given night. During exercises, while maneuvering through rough terrain with no map or light sources, relying solely on his memory to find the route, such a night would be an appreciated accomplice. He could anticipate the terrain ahead. It was easier to recognize and easier to compare with what had been memorized from the map. He would not repeatedly fall over rocks and branches with the heavy gear he carried, and the assignment would be completed much faster, leaving time for sleep, before having to get up the next morning to study another route.
On this particular night, Eitan would have preferred darkness. The dark would conceal his movements from enemy eyes and reduce the threat of being detected and fired upon. To anyone on the special raiding forces operating behind enemy lines, a dark, moonless night, despite its maneuvering difficulties, felt much safer.
However, across the border, he did not question decisions. He obeyed orders. Whether it was a wise decision or not made no difference. He was concerned with staying alive, with or without a full moon.
The ambush was in place and now he was lying on his stomach deep in enemy territory. The intelligence reports indicated the village served as a hiding place for terrorists aiming to strike Israeli settlements across the border. The Israeli Defense Forces,
the IDF, decided to raid the village, punish accomplices by blowing up their houses, and possibly capture informers. Any of the numerous terrorist factions dispersed in and around the unruly no man's land of southern Lebanon was a threat to the success of the operation. They would commonly avoid head on collisions with the proficient, well organized Israeli forces, but would use effective guerilla warfare to draw blood from their powerful enemy. They regularly operated units of three or four who would ambush the raiders with swift hit and run assaults using machine guns, rocket launchers, booby traps, land mines, light artillery, and anything that would discourage the Jewish neighbors from invading their land.
The squad was arranged in a full circle, covering all sides and all possibilities of approach. Their objective was to sabotage any attempt made by terrorist reinforcements coming to assist the village that was being attacked by the main force. Once the attack was over, they were to wait in place for the main force and join them en-route, back to the border.
Eitan noticed he was the only one awake. All other eleven troopers were in different stages of uneasy sleep. He had seen it before. Fatigued soldiers never got more than three hours of sleep a night and had to constantly fight themselves to stay awake. He could understand it happening during night exercises or while guarding the base, recalling himself dozing off on more than one occasion performing these duties.
Falling asleep this side of the border, was suicide, he thought, marveling at his indifferent colleagues. No matter how tired, cold, or worn out he felt, he was considerably more afraid of what could happen if he were to fall into unconsciousness at that juncture, leaving himself and the reckless crew around him completely exposed.
He shivered as he looked around. Threatening shadows seemed to be creeping in on him. As he checked to make sure his machine gun was loaded and in firing mode, he was struck by the peculiarity of the situation. There he was, alone for all practical purposes, ten kilometers deep into terrorist land, watching over a bunch of useless troopers. He recalled how in the briefing before the raid, they had been warned of the hazards of falling asleep. A month prior to this raid, a medic was killed when a trooper who dozed off, woke up confused and opened fire, killing the medic and wounding two others, mistaking them for enemy soldiers. Falling asleep was dangerous in any given situation, but fatigued troopers could never entirely control the urge.
The squad commander, Lieutenant Gilad, was to Eitan's
immediate right. Eitan could see his eyelids fluttering shut and his chin pressed hard against the barrel of his machine gun supporting his head. The night vision goggles were strapped around his neck.
Eitan kicked him. He woke up for a brief moment, and then fell back into uneasy sleep. Eitan kicked him again, a little harder. The lieutenant woke up, looked around, mumbled a few words, and was getting ready to fall asleep again. "You're dozing off,” Eitan whispered. "Let me have the goggles." The lieutenant had no objections.
Eitan surveyed the area. With a full moon, he could see extremely well without the night vision spectacles. With them, it was almost as if there was daylight.
The ambush had been set up in a fork of two very wide dry stream beds that were known routes used by terrorists coming from northern Lebanon, southward toward the Israeli border. The main stream bed traversed in a southeast-northwest direction. Thick, impassible underbrush covered its banks, but the stream itself was essentially bare, creating an ideal footpath. The village under attack lay southeast of where the ambush was set, on the bank of the main stream bed. The main force had circled around and invaded it from the north. Eitan could not see the village, but he could hear explosions and machine gun fire coming from the general direction.
He saw them just as a cloud covered the moon.
At first, it was a trifling clatter of pebbles stirring that alerted him. Eitan was experienced enough to notice such movement. Three years of night exercises had developed his instincts to the point where he could sense very small changes in noise levels, smells, and terrain shapes. Initially, he had felt quite uncomfortable during night exercises. It took time and endless hours of maneuvering before his senses became accustomed to operating in the dark and he learned to appreciate the night as an ally.
He detected the movement with the goggles. Several figures were approaching their location. He thought there were three, but could not be certain. They were coming from the direction of the village or possibly the border, moving carefully on the main stream bed.
He considered the alternatives. The machine gun bursts and sounds of explosions had just ended so the likelihood of it being the main force coming to meet them seemed remote. The main force would not be able to make it from the village in such a short time. He wondered whether he too had dozed off for a while not noticing time had elapsed. He pinched himself to make sure he was awake. Another possibility was the main force sending a small squad ahead
with some prisoners, but he immediately ruled out that option, certain that forces would never split up in enemy territory. He was convinced that if for some unknown reason the main force did split up, they would have notified the ambush in advance, even at the expense of breaking radio silence.
Eitan raised the night vision goggles and carefully studied the figures. He had to make an immediate decision. Making a mistake in identification could cost the lives of his buddies. He had to be sure. He looked carefully, noticing the way they moved. It was disorderly. Friendly forces would not be moving in such manner. He tried to determine the kind of weapons they carried but they were too far away. Then he noticed they were not wearing helmets; all friendly forces wore helmets at all times in enemy territory.
He came to a decision. Terrorists fleeing the village!
The thought reverberated in his head, tensing his muscles. They were one hundred meters from the ambush when he woke up the lieutenant and quickly passed the word around. The terrorists were closing in. He knew right away that they would not have time to follow the conventional ambush procedure. It took the guys a while to realize what was going on. Lieutenant Gilad signaled the people in back to remain still while the front six got ready to fire.
Eitan clutched his machine gun and put his finger on the trigger. He was excited, his palms suddenly sweaty. He could feel his heart thumping and his body tense as a spring ready to pop. He kept his eyes on the images. They were inching closer, moving carefully in his direction. The adrenaline was flowing, the weariness completely forgotten. These were the moments they had trained so long and hard for. These were the skills they had acquired. He was eager to put them to the test.
The thought that he was about to kill another human being never entered his mind. Combat training had conditioned him to treat the enemy like the cardboard targets used at the shooting ranges. Terrorists were not human, he had been preached,
they were a threat that had to be dealt with, swiftly and fiercely. The dark figures were about fifty meters from the ambush when the moon appeared again, shining as bright as ever. It may have been slightly too far to pull the triggers, particularly at night, but with such vision and with the threat of being spotted, the ambush opened fire.
Eitan took aim at the figure to the far left. His M-16 was set to semi-automatic for better accuracy. He squeezed the trigger three consecutive times before the figure crumpled to the ground. The two other figures fell at the same time. The ambush kept on firing until the lieutenant gave a signal to stop. It was a short burst of fire
lasting no more than ten seconds, but it seemed an eternity.
Everything was quiet again. For a brief moment the air stood still as everyone held their breath, assessing the damage. Then another signal was given and two grenades were thrown in the direction of the fallen figures. As they exploded, the front six quickly got up and attacked by brutish force, firing their weapons mercilessly. The remaining six ran at an angle and took up positions where they
could cover the six who were rapidly approaching the fallen terrorists.
Eitan moved swiftly but carefully. He was at the far left of the six who were approaching. They now had to verify the kill! Tricky and dangerous, this part of the combat exposed them to any wounded or surviving members. Lieutenant Gilad was in the middle, flanked by three troopers on one side and two on the other. They kept a fair distance from each other while moving, minimizing the risk of getting hit by random gunfire. The figures lay motionless on the ground. There were three. Wearing all black clothes, black head covers, and black sneakers, each was armed with a Russian made AK-47 and several grenades. They all carried backpacks. The lieutenant shot each figure twice in the head, before giving the signal to approach. The terrorists were laid on their backs. The grenades and machine guns were taken along with the belts holding the spare magazines. The backpacks were removed along with a map that was in the hand of one of the fallen terrorists. The lieutenant radioed the main force and Forward Command, letting them
know of the skirmish and its consequences.
Three dead terrorists; all friendly forces without a scratch!
The six remaining troopers appeared. They were ordered to spread out and be on alert for other enemy forces in the area. Eitan handed the orphaned backpacks to two of his mates, keeping the third for himself. He was about to strap it on, when a side pocket opened and its contents fell out. He lowered himself to his knees and fumbled around, recovering a leather wallet and a small round object. Stuffing the wallet in his khaki pant pocket, he examined the round object recognizing a plastic receptacle used for holding film.
It seemed a bit small and a bit too light to qualify for a booby trap, so he carefully opened the plastic cover and pulled out a roll of negatives. It seemed odd, but he had no time to ponder over it. He carefully put the negatives back in the box and threw it in his shirt pocket.
He heard the lieutenant issue orders to start moving in the direction of the main force which had completed its mission and was heading for the border - a slight change in plan.
"What do we do with the bodies?"
he whispered.
"We leave them, there is no time!" was the reply. "We're in too deep to carry them back and other enemy forces may be on their way."
The force began moving south. Lieutenant Gilad walked in front flanked by a trooper on each side. The rest moved in single file. Eitan moved last. He looked back at the lifeless figures feeling something amiss. They normally took enemy bodies back across the border, alive or dead. It served the intelligence community a great deal. But it was not to be this time.
The squad met the main force some two kilometers southeast of the ambush site. After some discussion between Lieutenant Gilad and the major in charge, they continued trekking toward the border. A gray dawn appeared as they were reaching their destination. After an eventless march of some ten kilometers through rough terrain and some maneuvering to avoid the land mines that were set in front of the fence, the force was back in friendly territory.
Eitan felt relief. They were met and congratulated by Northern Command's top brass and by their brigade commander. Their renowned company chef along with his assistants handed them sandwiches and steamy cups of black coffee. They were led to the debriefing hut where they were allowed to take off their gear. The heavy machine guns, grenades, spare magazines, , knives, rocket launchers, and helmets were quickly piled up on the ground as the weary troopers slumped down, finally able to relax their aching bodies and taut minds.
