Lebanon, ‘Ali snarled, shit soccer, shit sport. I don’t care about your soccer either.
We can go to the beach to see some girls.
Tel-Aviv’s not the only thing I’m interested in, ‘Ali winked. We can travel around the Galilee, see the view…
See the view? Since when do you care about the view? Yaki wondered.
Well, since I’m cooped up in this apartment all day, it would be nice to get a breath of fresh air. We could go eat at a nice restaurant, perhaps by Mount Meron, I hear it’s nice there, and then in the evening go to a club.
Yaki exchanged glances with a thickset man in a yellow plaid shirt who stood silently in the corner. What now? he asked. Would you like some more coffee?
Maybe something different, just to change things up, ‘Ali winked.
Yaki gestured with his eyes to the other person who wasn’t introduced to Tamir. He left the room and came back a moment later with a bottle of Chivas Regal Scotch whiskey and four glasses. The ice hasn’t frozen yet, he apologized. He poured the drinks, and the four raised their glasses. Here’s to fruitful collaboration and to living the good life! Yaki toasted. Tamir was impressed by Yaki’s Arabic. He thought he detected a hint of an Iraqi accent. He tipped back his glass and felt a soothing warmness in his stomach as he sipped the amber-colored drink. He hadn’t had anything to eat all day, and felt it would be wiser if he didn’t have any more to drink. On the other hand, the whiskey helped loosen his stiff limbs. There was a lot at stake, and he knew he had to be sharp and focused. He recalled the initiation ceremony his father had held for him when he was thirteen. He taught him how to drink vodka, how to knock it back in one gulp, and then, looking Tamir in the eyes with a look that was part jocular and part gravely serious, added: everything in moderation. Jews have always known how to drink without getting drunk. We can’t afford to cloud our minds. Getting pissed is a privilege reserved for goyim.11
Yaki said they’d start with a few general questions.
You’ve already asked me general questions, he replied with slight irritation. For three days, all you’ve asked me are general questions.
Bear with us, we’ve got just a couple more, Yaki gave him a smile which projected both conciliation and rebuke. He asked him questions regarding his travels within Lebanon, about different people he knows, his daily routine, and the vehicles he uses. ‘Ali replied in a manner which Tamir thought sounded honest and detailed. Yaki wrote down his answers, but there was no need for him to do so since there was a medium-sized tape recorder with a microphone protruding on the table beside them.
The man named Doron from MID-RD followed, asking questions about political meetings which took place at the refugee camps that ‘Ali was present in. He asked to know who participated in the meetings, what was said, and whether there was internal fighting among the members. Doron was the only one in the room who didn’t know Arabic. He asked in Hebrew, and Yaki translated. ‘Ali answered at length, and sprinkled his answers with jabs and jokes at the expense of different functionaries. Everyone laughed, even though it was clear that most jokes were insider jokes which only ‘Ali understood. Most of the information was insignificant, though; after all, participants in such meetings were for the most part members of the political and business ranks of the organization. At that point, Doron started asking about deployment of forces, weapons and military equipment, and the structure of the organization’s outposts. ‘Ali had much less to say about these matters. His answers became increasingly sparse, and it was evident he paused to think before giving his answers. The fluidity of his answers regarding the political meetings had all but vanished. Doron asked whether the Front was in possession of tanks.
I don’t recall seeing any tanks where I was around, ‘Ali answered.
Maybe you heard someone say something?
Why do you think they should have tanks?
‘Ali, we’re the ones asking the questions here, Yaki said in a low voice.
Doron asked about the whereabouts and maneuverability of the Front’s seaborne unit. ‘Ali said they don’t tell him about things like that. The seaborne unit is top secret. He’s not even sure the Front actually has a seaborne unit. He thinks those are just rumors. Who told you guys that? he asked. Are you sure you trust him? Maybe someone’s trying to mislead you? To scare you? You know, these organizations’ top priority is to hurt the enemy’s morale. That means you, he stifled a smile. If you tell me who’s telling you these stories, I could tell you if his credible or not.
We’ll think about it, Yaki said.
Doron asked, as you would expect, if he knew about any unusual maneuvers or operations set to take place now or in the immediate future. ‘Ali said in a slightly offended tone that had he known about something like that, he would’ve told them without waiting to be asked.
So, basically, ‘Ali, you don’t know anything that’s of any worth to us. So, why are we paying you so much money? Yaki asked provokingly.
For me to be at the right place at the right time, ‘Ali replied without hesitation. So that should anything happen in my area, you’ll have eyes and ears. That’s worth a lot of money, perhaps even a bit more than you’re paying me, actually. We’ll have to talk about that.
Your organization recently carried out an airborne attack. I don’t recall you telling us anything about that. Where were your eyes and ears then? On vacation in Jounieh?
I work hard for you and stick my
