The English Teacher Read Online Free Page B

years they had been opened and closed. “Here you’ll find the answer,” Ehud said to Yaniv, and he pointed to the files that documented her service in the Arab country. Yaniv nodded. Despite his age and his lack of experience, he also knew these were the crucial years of her life. Fifteen years had passed since Rachel came back from there, and in the archive there were also files documenting her handling since she left, but only there, at the country of destination, were the real clues to what would later be revealed. Ehud thought of theastonishingly small number of operatives involved in that mission, of the “perfect” people, individuals capable of spending many years in a hostile country, constructing their cover stories and living them when in action and between assignments. Who knows what happens to the solitary operative, all those days and nights in a strange and tough environment? And what he will do if one day agents of the opposition’s counterintelligence approach him and offer him a deal that will save his life? Betrayal? Ehud didn’t dare say the word aloud, but it had haunted him since the moment he noticed the looks exchanged between the commander and Yaniv. And if she had betrayed, he thought as he looked downward to hide his now-tearful eyes from Yaniv, then she betrayed him, Ehud, who was like a father to her, the one who loved her secretly, the one who perhaps turned his back on her.
    He opened one of the files and riffled through it, and a picture fell from an open envelope. Rachel bent over and stroking the back of a pigeon in St. Mark’s Square. He remembered that trip to Venice. He remembered other trips too. It seemed he remembered everything. Meetings, journeys, hired cars, wayside cafés, shops, briefings, and above all the partings, the “good night” before turning to their separate rooms, the lingering look following her tall figure as she disappeared behind her door.

    â€œW HAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENED TO her?” he asked Yaniv as they entered the modern war room and sat on the chairs marked with their names. A young clerk offered them coffee, and a technician leaned toward Ehud and offered to help him work the computer. “Don’t be afraid to ask,” Yaniv said when Ehud looked nervously at all the new technology and then back at the clerk, who smiled at him. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, and went on to explain that her mother usedto work in the Unit. She mentioned the name, which Ehud didn’t remember, but this didn’t mean anything. His memory these days was letting him down often, too often.
    â€œAnd what do you think happened to her?” he repeated, and let Yaniv talk about Rachel, about meetings with her, about her little apartment in Rehovot, the school, and about the private lessons she used to give here and there. “Do you think it’s possible that after the funeral she went off with one of the students? A fling with someone?” Ehud asked.
    â€œI don’t think so,” said Yaniv, a serious expression on his young face. “I’ve been monitoring her for the past five years. She’s okayed every trip with us. This is something else.”
    â€œI also think there’s something more dangerous here,” said someone who had entered the war room by a side door, and Ehud wondered how long he had been standing behind them. Yaniv introduced Ehud to the chief security officer, and the two of them disliked each other at first sight. He was short, years younger than Ehud, but also the veteran head of a department who didn’t like being contradicted. “Security trumps everything,” he tended to say, and he didn’t want to hear any other opinion. They all knew he did his job conscientiously, and when the day came and promotion was discussed, he would be promoted ahead of the others, ahead of those who think that a coin has two sides.
    â€œHave you been to