Game of Silence, page 29
As soon as they landed in Israel, he was amazed at the exciting change which surprisingly took over his mother. She started to cry and sing a song with strange words, the like of which he had never heard her sing. It was the lyrics of a children’s song in Yiddish that his mother learned from her grandmother. Only once she was on Israeli soil did she find the courage to tell him what she had kept hidden all those years. She was Jewish, and so was her Sergei.
The remarkable revelation which took place upon the encounter with the “Promised Land” – as it was known in the Zionist circles he became involved in during those years – thoughts of heresy came upon him: perhaps there is something beyond the clouds which directs him, and it was not for nothing that it directed him here, to his hidden roots. Perhaps that same obscure factor which saved his life countless times in Afghanistan, this time served as a compass to connect him to his hidden Jewish nucleus. However his twenty-eight years under a regime that condemns any religious or spiritual idea, taught him to suppress these dangerous thoughts.
Suppressed on one end and tied on the other – there is no doubt that Sergei-turned-Yosef very quickly shed the shadow of the past and integrated in Israel as if he was born to it.
Already during his first years in Israel he joined local politics. Functioning on a standard of “The Russian Star”, he provided the veteran parties with the votes of the new constituents who were brought in with the immigration wave. Very soon he internalized the rules of the game and continued to climb the political ladder.
Yosef Kolkin did not give it a second thought, and also could not have known then, that the dissolution of the Soviet Union would leave the spy program in total ruin as well. Those were the worst years in the history of the Soviet Union. The collapse of the economy and the lack of central control over a vast army that required resources, led to a complete paralysis of the Russian Army, and without a guiding hand, the espionage program was lost as well.
Life within the western democracy in the Middle East gradually exposed Kolkin to information regarding what was happening in his old homeland, and the details that accumulated began to peck at him. After about five years, in October 1995, when he realized his handlers had not been in contact with him for a long period of time, he decided to switch to a mode of emergency alerts initiated by him. However, he received no response. He felt that he needed to know what was going on in his homeland, and in order to do so, he needed to take a risk. The stories of the economic breakdown of the Soviet Union spoke of the sale of weapons for close to nothing to just about anyone, and of individuals taking over hundreds of billions of Rubles worth of the country’s natural resources.
Gradually, Sergei-Yosef began to realize that there’s real truth to these stories. At the same time, the years that went by under his new Israeli-Jewish identity, started to awaken an involuntary internal change in him. The revelation told by his mother that her parents were Jewish, the fame he gained as a Prisoner of Zion, and the political success he began to have – all lead him to increasingly identify with his new roots.
After not receiving any response from his handlers several times, he began to doubt his necessity. He also felt a little betrayed. Although he knew full well that the changes that occurred in his country turned it into a different entity and that it had lost its way, he was finding it hard to believe he was abandoned.
Still faithful to his homeland, he had to check and find out why no one had been contacting him. He flew to Moscow under the guise of a heritage visit. Upon an examination he conducted among reliable friends from the KGB, it was made clear to him that years earlier, when the Iron Curtain collapsed, the KGB commander, Vassili Alexei Alexandrovich, who was a fanatical communist, decided to commit suicide, and as a final gesture to the spies that he sent under his command to western countries, he burned everyone’s records. The KGB commander Alexandrovich was horrified by the thought that in the chaos created – the records could land in the wrong hands and all of his spies, who were like children to him, could be incarcerated for the rest of their lives.
This was the night when Kolkin gained his freedom. From now on, the burden which lay heavy on his heart was lifted, and his devout loyalty was given to Israel alone. Kolkin shed his old identity, and left it far behind in the world of shadows. From now on, he knew, he can act without fear.
A decade after his arrival in Israel, when he felt secure enough with the political power he had gained, he established his party, “Power to the immigrant”. It gained much strength and after an additional decade of intensive activities, it became the tipping scale for the establishment of a government. The continuation was natural in relation to the sequence of successes, but it lacked a precedent in Israeli politics for a new immigrant: Kolkin was appointed Israel’s Defense Minister.
“You thought we forgot about you, huh?” Tachenko continued plunging daggers in him, “Your first commitment is to the homeland! And now is the time to prove it! I want the battery back.”
The moment he sought to suppress all these years had arrived. The thirty years that passed without anyone turning to him, together with the knowledge that the KGB commander pardoned him a long time ago, caused him to believe that his identity was indeed purged by fire, and now suddenly the horror was brought back to him. Overwhelmed under the impact of the shock he replied: “How exactly do you expect me to return the battery, contrary to any reason and especially against the wishes of my Prime Minister?”
“That is your job,” replied the Russian President, “Make it happen. Indeed you know well what’s at stake here.” The implied threat he gave Kolkin, according to which his refusal to cooperate would lead to his exposure, landed as a dark shadow in the hall of the golden palace.
Kolkin had no time to linger. He was required to maintain his composure and provide quick and sharp answers. “If we assume,” he tried to feel out with the Russian President, “that I will do everything possible to retrieve the battery and succeed – I will do it under one condition: that it will be my first and last action in the service of the homeland. After which this matter will never be raised again, in any forum, and I will not be asked to execute such actions ever again. Is that acceptable?”
Tachenko managed to squeeze out half of a winning smile. “You are asking not to fulfill the assignment you were sent to do by the homeland? So I can see that you have forgotten a little where you came from. But hear this, I am still compassionate and I can understand. If the battery returns to us within forty eight hours – I promise to consider your request positively.”
Kolkin was experienced enough to know it would be naïve of him to believe a promise made by the Russian President. He was well aware of their methods of blackmail. On the contrary, he knew that given the fact that they impacted his one and only weak and sensitive spot – their motivation to continue blackmailing him will only intensify immensely. Right now he sought to buy some time. A mixture of thoughts and calculations went through his mind. What kind of information could they have about me if all records were destroyed? Vassili Alexei Alexandrovich made sure to destroy everything! Perhaps they are threatening me with an unloaded gun?
He shook the Russian President’s hand in agreement and said: “You are aware that this will raise many eyebrows, and that I will need a great deal of explaining to do as I attempt to return the battery, but I will do all that I can to deal with this.
“Sergei Ivan Ivanovich,” the Russian President concluded the meeting, “I have no doubt that you will succeed. In fact, you do not have the option to fail. Have a good trip.”
Kolkin stood up and without saying another word left the room. Although he did not look back, he knew that the Russian President was seeing him leave with a satisfied look. No one in Israel had anticipated this move by the Russians.
The flight back from Moscow was accompanied by a thunderstorm and wind pockets that shook the plane. It reflected his mood well. Gloomy and dark. Although he underwent a process which connected him to his Jewish roots in service of the country, Yosef Kolkin knew that it wasn’t enough to help him. His biggest nightmare had come to pass: the past, which he believed to be long buried, came back to haunt him. He could already imagine the headlines in the newspapers: “The Minister of Defense is a Russian spy”, along with a life filled with humiliation in prison.
23.
Spy games
The turmoil he experienced during the flight was nothing compared to the horrible feeling he had on the way from Ben Gurion Airport to the Prime Minister’s chambers in Jerusalem. Knowing that he will very soon need to tell that he is a former Russian spy; he will need to make an unworldly confession to the Prime Minister who was also his closest friend; to confess to a story which seemed to him as if it was taken from movie classics and completely detached from his real life – everything seemed so delusional and yet so real and threatening. How will Prime Minister Nativ believe him that his absolute loyalty was always given to Israel? Anxiety closed in on him in full force, like a jagged choking noose tightening on a thief’s neck.
Waiting for him at the Ben Gurion airport was the regular convoy for the Minister of Defense. With flashing blue lights, occasionally accompanied by the sound of the siren, they left directly for the Prime Minister’s chambers at the official residence in Jerusalem, a distance of half an hour from the terminal. The longest half an hour of his life. Underneath the façade he wore, he felt how his heart rate was accelerating, and swirling as the minutes passed.
It was this anxiety that motivated him to focus his thoughts on finding a solution. It was precisely the long training in the service of Mother Russia that prepared him to face the worst of all; in extreme situations, he learned to discover in person that there is always another way out. All he needs to do is find out what it is.
The focus of his thoughts, which came after hours of choking soul-searching, led to the only way out which seemed possible in the situation created. Suddenly it shone like a bright light in the darkness. Yosef Kolkin realized that the only option he had was to fully confess to the Prime Minister. To tell him the whole truth and hope that he would be able to help him. Life had taught him that even if you fail and get caught in a lie, there is no better way out than to confess and apologize. The attempt to cover up the lie is what always leads to doom, not the lie itself. It will be much more difficult to get out of the entanglement inside a web of woven lies. No, he will not trap himself in a web of lies. He will confess, and try to explain, hoping that he will find an empathic ear and a compassionate heart.
He had no other choice.
The thought echoed again and again in his mind: he never meant to betray his country! Indeed the Jewish spark that lit in him the day his mother told him he was Jewish, only intensified over the years, transforming into a torch, burning deeper and deeper in his soul more than any other commitment he had experienced in his life!
After a few short greetings, Prime Minister Bezalel Nativ asked the Minister of Defense Yosef Kolkin to sit in front of him, and sip the espresso from the cup placed on his table seconds before he entered the chambers. They were there alone.
So, how was the menu at the Kremlin house restaurant?” Bezalel Nativ asked with a satisfied smile, expecting some juicy gossip and a report on the visit’s usefulness.
“An expected menu,” replied Kolkin. “The chefs did not take the dish to levels we weren’t familiar with before. They insisted on the return of the battery immediately and were angry at the collaboration we created with the British and the Americans.
“Okay…” the Prime Minister tapped with his fingers on the table, “and what else?”
Kolkin moved uneasily in his chair. He took a sip from the coffee, returned the cup to the table, picked it up again, cleared his throat, scratched his head, looked at his watch and finally said: “Look… I don’t really know how to begin this story. It… it will take quite a few minutes to explain, but I promise you that at the end you will be able to understand it all.”
“What are you talking about?” Prime Minister Nativ was utterly surprised.
“Do you have any whiskey?” Kolkin asked, and cleared his throat again.
“Ooh, the things that a couple of hours in Moscow can do to a man…” he laughed and immediately turned serious: “Is everything alright with you? Because I do not have whiskey here, after all, it’s a little early in the morning. But I understand you are full of surprises, so let’s hear it.
“Yes, Tsoli, but you will need to hear me out without interruptions,” said Kolkin, and began telling Bezalel Nativ the whole story in an orderly and clear fashion. He told him of the Russian’s blackmail attempt, his past as an unemployed and unused spy, about erasing his past thanks to the KGB agent who burned all the documentation before killing himself, about life after that – in which he hadn’t had even a glimpse of suspicion it could bring back dark memories from his past.
Bezalel Nativ’s frozen stare did not escape Kolkin’s eyes. It was hard to fathom what was now going through the Prime Minister’s mind. When Kolkin finished telling his story, cumbersome silence prevailed. After a long moment, Prime Minister Nativ surprised him with a strange smile on his face.
“The truth, Kolkin?” said Nativ, “Every time I say to myself that nothing can surprise me anymore, I am proven wrong. This sounds completely beyond belief what you’re telling me right now. But, if there’s one major thing I truly learned over the years I have been sitting here, in the Prime Minister’s chair, it is exactly this: reality surpasses anything we may imagine. This means, you still need to convince me that this is not just another one of your pranks.”
The Prime Minister and the Defense Minister made a rare alliance of the toughest between them. It was thanks to this that they had managed to take over Israeli politics in the past decade. They complemented each other, and had a mutual appreciation for one another. They even liked each other – beyond any political considerations. Prime Minister Bezalel Nativ found it hard to see Yosef Kolkin as a spy. Especially in light of his confession.
“The Russian President targeted me, I tell you,” Kolkin repeated the bottom line of his visit to Moscow. “It was a planned ambush, but Mr. Tachenko probably ran out of cards to play, so he pulled out an ace I long thought was erased from the face of the earth. I swear to you that I couldn’t have imagined that someone still remembers that line in my resume. However this is what it is. Tachenko, you always say you know him better than anyone…”
“He’s a crook!” Nativ cut him off.
“Yes,” Kolkin continued. “A crook, but one that wasn’t born yesterday. It is very difficult to face him. The meaning of this whole story is that I have no other choice but to cooperate with them, or I’ll be exposed. So that’s it, that’s the situation. I preferred you hear it from me rather than from the Russians.”
‘What does that mean? What… what did you promise them?” Nativ asked.
“I promised to cooperate this one time,” admitted Kolkin, “to buy some time until I tell you. I never once considered betraying my people – I hope this is clear to you. Now, I am in your hands. Do with it what you will.”
“I don’t believe this,” Prime Minister Nativ hissed. For a moment he lost the smile on his face. It was evident he was uncertain how to react. At first he thought of the disgraceful strategic-security fiasco that will take place if Kolkin keeps his promise to Tachenko and cooperates with him behind his back to return the batteries back in exchange for absolutely nothing, but immediately realized that this could never be, there will never be such a one-sided agreement, and he knew that Kolkin will be willing risk it. Upon realizing that Kolkin is the one who is about to pay a heavy price, Nativ was inclined to thank him. He was finding it hard to accept the idea according to which his good friend and ally would disappear in disgrace from the political map into a darkened prison. However on the other hand, he was angry that Kolkin had hidden this “negligible” detail about his past all these years. What was he thinking?! After all, secrets are always bound to come up to the surface and be revealed! It is reasonable to assume that if everything is brought out into the open – even he, Nativ himself, would be tarnished! It is obvious to everyone that Kolkin is his right-hand man and inseparable from him throughout many years, and how he, the Prime Minister of Israel, would be seen in the public’s eye if it became known he knew nothing about this?! Worse than this – how will his own people view him if he is suspected to have known but chose to keep this information from them?! It is clear also that the friendship between them, forged by years of working together, was now being put to the test as well.
After a few minutes Bezalel Nativ felt his stance being established. That he believes in Kolkin’s good faith more than anything. In any case, he said to himself, after revealing this information to him – Kolkin will be the most loyal of all politicians. A rare commodity like no other.
He began pacing the room in his characteristic walk, avoiding looking at Yosef Kolkin, leaving him anxiously awaiting his word. After another moment he turned to him and said: “Bottom line – you did not commit any espionage, right?”
“Tsoli, I am prepared to undergo any test,” Kolkin replied. “My word is solid. I have never committed any acts of espionage.”
“Never,” repeated Nativ. “Not one act of espionage or even a shred of action was carried out by you, yes?”
“I swear to you in everything I hold dear, give me a polygraph test.”
Prime Minister Nativ felt satisfied. “So then,” he said, “You did not commit any offense. In order to spy, you need to perform some sort of action, not just think espionage thoughts, not just someone who was given the idea and fantasy of spying for you. You did not actually spy – you are not a spy. It is simple. You were never activated and therefore, in my legal understanding, you have never executed the ‘factual’ part of delivering information to the enemy, thus, you did not commit any criminal offense of espionage.” His gaze widened and his smile grew. “I have an idea that might just work,” he continued enthusiastically, “I can’t afford to keep this information to myself, you understand, but if this information leaks – it’s the end, for both of us. The arrows will be pointed at me as well for keeping the whole thing under wraps.”
