Authors: Ben Brunson
On Saturday morning, February 12, 2011, a black SUV pulled up in front of the apartment building of Amit Margolis in Tel Baruch. Ami Levy, the director of Mossad, stepped out of the back seat after telling his bodyguards to wait in the vehicle. The 63-year-old master spy headed into the building and quickly found the elevator to the third floor. After an elevator ride that seemed painfully slow, he exited and walked down the outdoor hallway to find apartment 34. His steps were labored. Levy’s body reflected a life of service to his country, including combat in two wars and a decade of infiltrating Arab held lands to terminate enemies of the state. It had now been more than two decades since he last fired a weapon in anger and arthritis was exacting a revenge on his body that his enemies had failed to achieve.
Levy knocked on the door. The time was 8:12
a.m. After a moment, the door opened and a beautiful young woman confronted the aging director, her breasts perfectly outlined by a tight fitting t-shirt. “May I help you?”
Director Levy knew all about Enya Govenin, who occupied a growing percentage of Margolis’ Mossad file. Still, he was caught off guard by the beauty of the woman, who was completely unconcerned that her perfect body was on full display for this stranger at her door. The 5-foot 7-inch director was facing her eye to eye, trying unsuccessfully to maintain eye contact. “
Shabbat shalom. I am looking for Amit Margolis. Is he in?”
“And who are you?”
“Forgive me. Tell him that Shlomo Fiegelbaum is here. I will wait.” Levy used the name of the director of collections because it was not widely known in the Israeli press, but would cause the correct response from Margolis.
Enya was not sure if she should leave the man in the hall. But something about him seemed familiar to her. He reminded her of the photos of her grandfather, who
m she had never met. She pulled the door into a fully open position. “Come in,” she said.
Levy entered the modest apartment and closed the door behind him as Enya walked down the hall. He could not help but notice that she was effectively nude underneath her tight t-shirt, which stretched down to her thighs. He could make out the faint lines of a g-string as his eyes focused on her rear end. He scolded himself for his lack of self-control.
Levy was standing just inside the door when Amit Margolis turned the corner wearing a polo shirt and a pair of shorts. He was moving quickly to meet the senior Mossad officer he expected. It took his mind a second or two to realize that it was Director Levy standing in his apartment.
“
Shabbat shalom, Amit,” said Levy as he extended his hand.
Margolis did everything possible to control his surprise. He shook hands. “Good morning, Director. Is there something wrong?”
“Not at all. I was hoping you could walk with me a while.”
“Of course, sir.” Margolis looked down at his bare feet. “I need, um, I need sandals.” He lifted his right hand and raised his forefinger. “One second.”
“Take your time.” Levy looked past Margolis and smiled at Enya as she stood about ten feet behind her man. The director tipped his head slightly as Amit slipped past Enya and went back into his bedroom in search of a pair of sandals. He re-emerged within seconds and paused next to Enya, kissing her forehead softly. “I will be only a few minutes, honey.”
“Amit, what is going on? Who is this man?”
Amit fumbled with his words. “Ah … just part of this project I am doing for the IDF. Sometimes they need to discuss important matters.” He looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. Amit turned to walk to Levy, who had already stepped back out into the hall.
Levy looked at Enya. “Pleasure meeting you. Shalom.” He turned and started walking back toward the elevator
, confident that Margolis would quickly catch up. As Margolis reached his side, he spoke. “You have a basement shelter here, no?”
“Yes, sir. Of course.”
“And we can get in?”
“Yes, my apartment key works.”
“Have your key?”
“No.” Margolis turned and ran the short distance back to his apartment, his speed limited by the flopping action of his sandals. He ran in, grabbed his keys, and was back with his director by the time the elevator door opened.
A couple of minutes later Amit unlocked the shelter door and turned on the lights. Inside was a barren room with a wash basin in the far corner and a stack of folding chairs leaning against the wall. Margolis unfolded two chairs and put them on the concrete floor.
“I don’t think this is up to code,”
Levy joked as he sat down.
“Sorry, sir. Are you sure you want to talk here?”
“This is perfect, Amit.” Levy looked around the poured concrete walls. “No one is listening.” He smiled.
“Is something wrong, sir? It makes me nervous that you came here.”
“Nothing’s wrong. You know, next to the prime minister, I think you are the only person I have travelled to see in Israel.”
“What brings you here?”
“Sometimes Mohammed must go to the mountain.” Levy reached down and rubbed his left knee. “I’m afraid that age is taking a toll on me.” He looked at Amit. “Arthritis.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Enjoy your youth, Amit.” Levy continued to rub and then chuckled. “Listen to me. After seeing your girlfriend, you are the one to teach me about enjoying your youth. Her name is Enya Govenin, yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That is quite a coincidence. It must be God’s plan.” Like most humans, Levy’s faith had strengthened as he aged. He would not have given this a second thought a couple of decades earlier, but was now mindful of giving up his Sabbath to come visit Margolis. But it was the only day that he could hide a stop like this from his official calendar.
Margolis looked confused. “What is a coincidence?”
“You and Enya Govenin meeting and becoming a couple.”
“I … I don’t understand. What are you saying?”
Director Levy stopped rubbing his knee. “You don’t know who she is? You don’t know about her grandfather?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. I know her grandfather came here from Russia in the early eighties. He was a famous Soviet dissident.”
“And a famous physicist. Like Sakharov.”
“Yes. I knew that.”
“That is all you know?”
“Yes. What else is there?”
Levy smiled and exhaled. “A lot, Amit. A lot.” Levy began to rub his right knee now. “I worked closely with your father, you know.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How much do you know about his story?”
“My mother told me he was a hero. People like you and the prime minister tell me the same, but I don’t know much detail.”
“Well let me fill in some of the detail for you.” Levy paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Your father asked the Americans to help arrange the emigration of a Russian family in exchange for a couple of Soviet spies who had been caught. This was routine back in those days. It was the Cold War. But for men like me and your father, it was all too often very hot indeed.
“The family belonged to a Russian who had
immigrated to Israel a little earlier. That man had information that could endanger a coup plot that was underway in the Soviet Union and he was killed for that. He was killed, Amit, right here in Tel Aviv.
“That man’s death led to your father going into the Soviet Union to find out why he had been killed. What he found out and unmasked was a coup plot by some of the most powerful generals in the Soviet Army, the men who controlled all of the first line fighting power of the Red Army based in East Germany and the rest of Eastern Europe. These men were intent on invading Western Europe. World war
three, Amit. That is what we are talking about. Your father foiled that plot. He paid for it with his life. In my opinion, your father saved the world from world war three.”
This was more detail than Amit had ever heard before. His mother did not know the full story, only telling him that his father had died fighting evil men inside the Soviet Union. But as
Amit soaked in this new information, his mind
stuck
on a more immediate detail. “I still do not understand the coincidence with Enya. You mean because she is Russian?”
“No, Amit.” Levy paused briefly. “The man that was killed in Tel Aviv, the immigrant, he was a dissident.” Levy suppressed a smile, wondering if the famously analytical mind of Margolis would put the pieces together. “He was a physicist.” Levy watched as Margolis’ mouth started to unconsciously fall open, his eyes widening. “His name was Alexander Govenin. He was …”
“Enya’s grandfather.” Margolis finished the sentence.
“Yes. Her parents came here because of the work of your father. Her grandfather’s death directly led to your father’s death. By my book, this is divine.”
Amit just sat and thought for a moment, not quite ready to accept an explanation of divine intervention. His mind began to think about Enya. “You said that Alexander Govenin was killed here by the KGB?”
“I did not say the KGB, but, yes, he was killed here by a Russian team, a very good one. Whether they were KGB or army, I don’t know to this day.”
“Was my father responsible for his security?”
Levy paused. He had not expected this question and had never really thought of this issue. He was unsure how to respond. “I am not sure.” His response was a lie. “This was an elite team that got to Govenin. No one expected it.”
“You are telling me that my father was responsible.”
“I don’t know for sure. But I am sure your father felt responsible.”
Margolis wondered how Enya might react to the knowledge. He shook his head, telling himself that he could not think through all the permutations at this moment with the director of Mossad sitting next to him. “You came here to tell me this?”
“No, Amit. I came to pay my respects to you and the job you are doing at Olympus.”
Amit stiffened imperceptibly. He possessed knowledge that Ami Levy did not and he had been ordered by his supreme commander, the prime minister, to not enlighten Levy. Margolis waited for what was coming.
The director, for all his ability to read others, did not recognize that Margolis was already a couple of steps ahead of him. “But you know that you are still Mossad. You are still part of this brotherhood we have.” Levy looked Margolis in the eye, the compassion of only moments ago now gone and replaced with steely resolve. “And I am still the head of Mossad.”
“Yes, sir. I understand and respect that. I respect you.”
“Thank you. But you have to admit Amit that you are doing things that I need to be aware of. It is not good that I am in the dark. You are using Mossad resources and even recruiting people that we need for important operations.”
“Sir, you know what I am working on and you know that I am working directly under the command of the prime minister. I think it best that you and he discuss these issues. I am merely a servant of the state.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Amit.” Levy’s voice was raised, his notorious temper emerging for the first time this morning. “I do not want you to jeopardize any of the Olympus activities and planning. You know that I support this effort. I just want to know about certain activities so that we are not bumping into each other. Do you think it is smart if you are out doing something in the Middle East and someone else in Mossad comes across this activity? If we don’t know what is going on, then all of the sudden I am spending resources chasing your operations. We could wind up blowing each other’s operations accidently. This is why we coordinate.”
Margolis had to admit to himself that what Levy was saying made some sense. He could not know all of the resources that Mossad had in the region. “Go on.”
“For instance, a Russian oligarch shows up in Dubai and starts buying an airline. Now, do you think that is not going to come to the attention of Mossad? Then I have to send a man to the
Emirates and investigate. Imagine my surprise when he returns with a photograph of a gray-haired Amit Margolis driving around the countryside in the back of a Mercedes. How do you think I should react to this revelation? I need every resource I have to be used efficiently. I can’t have assets chasing you around the Middle East.” Levy stopped to catch his breath. “So tell me what is going on.”
“I think
you know it all at this point.”
“No. All I know is that you are posing as a Russian named Gennady Masrov and you purchased an airline. The point is why?”
“Obviously this is related to the Olympus planning.” Amit hesitated.
“You are about to make me lose my patience. This is not a good outcome.”
Amit thought through the situation as best he could given the burning fuse in front of him. He needed to mollify Ami Levy or the ramifications would be very negative to Project Block G. “I will fill you in on the key pieces of the plan. But I need to know that you will keep this to yourself. Every additional person who knows about what we are doing puts our plans at greater risk.”
“You don’t think I understand this? You are telling me because I have a need to know this. We need to keep our activities coordinated.”