Blind Mission: A Thrilling Espionage Novel Read Online Free

nothing easier for many than to be swept towards violence! Indeed bombs had recently been planted in several Arab markets and thoroughfares, while leaflets were distributed signed by the organization calling itself The Rising. In a country of scores of thousands of reserve officers, there was actually no reason why some of them could not serve as the core of such an underground. Already during the ride here, Greenberg had tried to prepare himself for some kind of eventuality like this – though he had not actually thought of The Rising. Nevertheless, now that it had been mentioned explicitly, he experienced a certain shock. Why? He had no logical explanation.
    “Why me?” he asked finally. “And why now?”
    The tall man’s lips twisted in an ironic smile. “How should we describe it? The right attributes…. A good personal background…. I’m referring to certain events in your past that, because of which, we feel –“
    Greenberg felt a mounting rage. Despite the casual manner of speaking, it was clear to him that the man knew what he was talking about – and wouldn’t hesitate to exploit the painful wound. He instantly relived those terrible moments. He could almost hear the voice over the loudspeaker at the giant electronics plant where he used to work: Dan Greenberg, Dan Greenberg, report to the general manager’s office; Dan Greenberg, Dan Greenberg…” He remembered how he had walked to the office, where he was met by a waiting policeman, and a doctor and a nurse dressed in white, and they told him of the tragedy in a few cautious sentences. His face had remained impassive; only his hand had jumped for the second it took to absorb the fact that his parents, his sister, and her two-year-old son had been killed by a bomb planted in a handbag left at a downtown café. The news bulletin an hour later described it as a terrorist act. Radio Monte Carlo had broadcast from Beirut that a faction of the Radical Front for the Liberation of Palestine had claimed responsibility.
    Greenberg could still remember how his eyes had remained dry and burning even as he had stood before the open graves. He had felt a certain distance, as if a screen separated him from everything else – silent, held in check, motionless. He had felt no desire for revenge; only pain that threatened to burst forth and a deep emptiness.  At that moment he would have given anything to be able to cry – to cry for once with all his heart. And all the handshaking – dozens of hands without faces – and the meaningless words of comfort trying to penetrate his consciousness, the sound of weeping from every side, and the defense minister exploiting the event in order to prattle at the graveside about the need for a response… When the ceremony was over and people began to leave, only he had remained standing frozen in place, staring about in numb bewilderment. Only his eyes moved: from the wreathe of flowers to the gravediggers finishing their work, and from them to the rabbi as he walked away.
    He had no recollection of what happened to him during the days that followed. He could not recall how long he had driven aimlessly around in his car, on a road that had no beginning and no end, staring at the gray-black asphalt and listening to the monotonous murmur of his tires on the road surface.
    For a split second a deeply buried memory flashed in his mind of a crowded room in a nameless roadside inn. The memory faded. His fingers, which had been digging into the wooden arm of his chair, relaxed.
    “What exactly are you proposing?” he finally asked the tall man.
    The man shifted in his seat, and Greenberg interpreted the action as an expression of unease. “You understand, of course, that I cannot go into detail at the moment. We’ll have to put you through some tests – mainly psychometric – and afterwards you’ll undergo some training in the field we decide upon as your specialty.”
    “And if I’m not suitable?”
    “Don’t worry.