Israel Jihad in Jerusalem

By Ariel Lilli Cohen

Israel Jihad in Jerusalem, the second chapter of the narration, tells the story of a group of friends that in a few months had become one of Mossad's best operative teams.
Many questions and mysteries were uncovered in the first novel.
Who is responsible for the attack in Tel Aviv?
Who wants to destroy the State of Israel?
Will Trump and Putin seal a peace agreement for the Middle East?
December 6th, 2018 is the date the civil world is looking forward to since as of now it is the only hope for peace.
The Daesh is weakened to its roots, the foreign fighters are assaulting the symbols of democracy from within like a metastasis. Day-to-day life is devastated.
The evil in this novel has taken the likeness of Hamza Bin Laden. Al Qaeda wants to extinguish the Occident in the most religious city in the world. The city that divides and unifies the religions and the political beliefs in the world. No democracy, not even in Canada, France, Italy, Russia, Belgium, America, and Australia, can feel safe from the murderous madness of those who take the religion hostage to create terror.
Who is Hamza bin Laden and why does he crave to destroy Israel?
From the ashes of Daesh, Al Qaeda rises and Israel is its target.
No one is safe on his own land.
The Western Wall and the Al-Aqsa mosque, could they coexist peacefully?
A thriller that accompanies the reader in a journey along those who experienced these events firsthand, narrating the antecedents and the stories -never told or captured by cameras- where, at the sidelines of our consciousness, politics oftentimes shakes bloody hands in that strip of gray land; where conspiracies and allegiances are mushed with political and military analyses that are unlikely to be addressed in newspapers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ariel Lilli Cohen
• Release date: May 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463674741

Book preview

"Under the same sky, locked up in the same prison, divided by the same wall.

The wall of hate and distrust, which grows skyward, attack after attack."

Ariel Lilli

Dedication:

To Hodaya Asulin.

Following seven years in a coma, Hodaya Asulin died on November 22, 2017.

She had been in a coma since being severely injured in a bus bombing in Jerusalem in March 2011.

Asulin was only 14 at the time of the attack.

My thoughts go out to her and all the young and innocent victims whose lives were cut short, like flowers before their blooming season.

Preface

"Jewish people have outlived through the centuries, Jewish people have suffered for all these centuries, but that made them stronger."

Anne Frank

How I miss the bitterly cold wind of Haifa in the first morning hours! How I miss Haifa! Having over a 200 IQ was a curse. My intelligence stole my youth. I could have done so many things: play volleyball, play the piano, or be a model. Instead, here I am, in one of the most prestigious operational teams of the National Security Service.

Putting pen to paper, expressing all my feelings, wasn’t easy. I have lived many lives in one. To avoid going crazy and to find myself again, I decided to write this book to tell all my experiences, fears, hopes, and all the untold truths, my truths. To live undercover for months, sometimes years, without a break, cutting off relationships with my real life, lying to my friends, family, and sometimes to myself, created a conflicting relationship with the identities I have covered in turn. This lifestyle changes you. It changes the way you perceive real life. One day, while I was playing pool in a club here in Montreal, a gentleman remarked how well I was playing for being so young. But age is not to be measured in years but in mileage travelled. I have travelled many miles and am tired now. Tired of always chasing. Tired of lying. Tired of being afraid. In a mission, you never know what may happen to you.

Two months ago, Shani and I were almost caught. We were violently assaulted. With the taste of sweat and blood in my throat, I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest, and I went through the reasons why I joined the Israeli Secret Services as an undercover agent.

The terror I felt is still with me today and every time I sense a stranger’s look resting on me. Why am I doing this? Why am I sacrificing my life? Then, my memory goes back to an episode which occurred in August a few years ago when we were told that a Hamas terrorist cell had entered Israel and was about to target the Dizingoff Center with a bacteriologic attack. That time, we managed to neutralize them just in time. A few hours later, I went back to the shopping mall to get an ice cream with my friends, Shani, Shlomit, Zoe, and Aviv.

All those families and children would have died without our intervention. That is why I do this job, to defend my people, and ambitious as that may sound, to defend the democracy in the world.

Right now, as I allow my pen to put my thoughts on paper, I am sitting in a café on Richardson Street in Montreal, where I am due to meet a source. I hope everything will be fine. I hope to haul my ass back to safety this evening. When will all this come to an end? So much work has been done and so much still must be done!

I remember Milan, six months ago. San Diego and Buffalo, Tel Aviv and Madrid three months ago, and last month in the record shop between Pitt Street and Circular Quay in Sydney.

I remember all the attacks I contributed to neutralizing with my team. I think of all those nameless and faceless stars at the entrance of the agency headquarters in Tel Aviv, who only live in the indelible memory of those who met them. I think of all those agents who sacrificed their lives in the line of duty to also save your life. Please make sure their deaths weren’t in vain. I wish for a world where my job would never be necessary, a world without conflicts due to religious extremism.

As I write, my thoughts go to my colleagues in Jerusalem who are the last bastion of democracy, to the lions and lionesses of Magav, to Shira fighting every day, to Heli who left her operative service at the Damascus Gate after three long years. I want to express my warm thanks to you, for the great privilege of protecting the people of Israel in the most sacred place in the world.

I think of Hadar and Hadas, who sacrificed their lives for Jerusalem, and I think of Solomon who died in Har Adar. I think of his girlfriend, Betty, and his relatives. How many more people, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, boyfriends, and girlfriends will have to walk lonely the path of life, deprived of their dearest due to terrorist actions? I don’t feel like condemning for these crimes solely the perpetrator’s hands.

My wrath, rage, and contempt are turned to those who, with their ideologies, have armed those hands. Their speeches-bursting with hatred and resentment-like water in the desert, fill the empty life of people, brainwashed by an absurd extremist ideology. Now, those are the ones who have blood on their hands. While they stay safe and cozy in their houses with their families, they send young men to die, after having raised them to a blind hatred that knows no compromise.

I feel I will end up, sooner or later, on that wall too, a little star amongst many others. I will finally join my comrades, young guys in love with a life they would never get to live. At times, I really wish to be amongst them. This job consumes your consciousness – you have to see and do things nobody would even dream of doing. Sooner or later, also I will commit some imprudence, an error of judgment, a mistake that will cost me my life – a life I feel empty.

I hope this book will be enjoyable and good food for thought. I had to change a few names and camouflage some situations, which would otherwise threaten the State of Israel’s safety. My experiences have been translated in the form of a novel. I hope you’ll be able to read my message of hope and love between the lines.

This is a journey to the outer fringes of the law, which started in 2014, before the war in Gaza. It’s the work of a group of friends, who became, in the space of a few months, one of Mossad’s best operative teams.

Ariel Lilli

Israel Jihad in Tel Aviv is adapted from the original Israeli series Israel Jihad, with more than six thousand certified copies sold all over the world.

Ariel Lilli Cohen with her first novel was a best seller on Amazon US, Australia, and Italy. As a self-publishing book, the novel garnered its success thanks to the word of mouth, and it is currently translated in eleven languages.

Israel Jihad in Jerusalem, the second chapter of the narration, tells the story of a group of friends that, in a few months had become one of Mossad's best operative teams.

Many questions and mysteries were uncovered in the first novel.

Who is responsible for the attack in Tel Aviv?

Who wants to destroy the State of Israel?

Will Trump and Putin seal a peace agreement for the Middle East?

December 6th, 2018 is the date the civil world is looking forward to since, as of now, it is the only hope for peace.

The Daesh is weakened to its roots. Like a metastasis, the foreign fighters are assaulting the symbols of democracy. Day-to-day life is devastated.

The evil in this novel has taken the likeness of Hamza Bin Laden. Al Qaeda wants to extinguish the Occident in the most religious city in the world. The city that divides and unifies the religions and the political beliefs in the world. No democracy, not even in Canada, France, Italy, Russia, Belgium, America, and Australia, can feel safe from the murderous madness of those who take the religion hostage to create terror.

Who is Hamza bin Laden, and why does he crave to destroy Israel?

From the ashes of Daesh, Al Qaeda rises, and Israel is its target.

No one is safe in his own land.

The Western Wall and the Al-Aqsa mosque, could they coexist peacefully?

A thriller that accompanies the reader on a journey along with those who experienced these events first-hand, narrating the antecedents and the stories-never told or captured by cameras-where, at the sidelines of our consciousness, politics oftentimes shakes bloody hands in that strip of gray land; where conspiracies and allegiances are mushed with political and military analyses that are unlikely to be addressed in newspapers.

Chapter 1 - Curling Days

I know what I want. I have a goal, an opinion, I have a religion and love. Let me be myself and then I am satisfied. I know that I'm a woman, a woman with inward strength and plenty of courage.

Anne Frank

Shani is the first to arrive in the office today. There is a little bit of unfinished paperwork that she wants to complete before her colleagues arrive. She drops her backpack with spare clothes for the evening. It's an important day; it's Zoe's birthday, and they will celebrate their first year together. She's euphoric, full of energy despite the early hour. Her mind works in such an organized fashion, like a binary code. On coloured sticky notes, she writes down all the things she still has to get done for the day.

I'll stop by the flower shop around the corner to buy some flowers for my sweetheart before she arrives. Then, I have to call Dublinov 8 and confirm our reservation for dinner. I want everything to be perfect. Nothing can ruin our day, she says, speaking to herself while hopping on the elevator.

You know how happy she’ll be when I take her there tonight? We've wanted to dine there for months now, but with one thing and another, we never made it there, she thinks, already anticipating their evening together.

While looking at her reflection in the elevator mirror, she tenderly fluffs her curly hair and the sublime scent of Moroccan oil diffuses all around. Every time she uses it, a different feeling flows through her body. Today, there's a different glow in her eyes. She feels confident and sparkling! She feels great!

She checks Whatsapp to see if Zoe is awake. The elevator doors open, and as she is walking out with her head down, she accidentally bumps into someone who’s trying to get in.

Agent! Shani!! Watch out!

She almost made the director, Yossi Kadosh, spill his morning coffee. Uhm, excuse me, sir. I was distracted I am really sorry, she says apologetically.

What are you doing over here so early? Did something serious happen? Is everything okay?

No, nothing serious. Today is Zoe's birthday, and I was so excited that I couldn't fall asleep. That's why I came in early. I don't want anything to go wrong today.

Good for you! It's nice to see that you are genuinely in love. I’ll see you later for our follow-up then, but make sure you get out of your head now. We need you here and focused.

As soon as the conversation and their eye contact ends, Shani gives a shy hint of an embarrassed smile-biting her lower lip-after what just happened. Yoshi is actually not that bad; he's more permissive with Yael's Team than with the other team units.

I need to remember to hit up Yael once I'm back in the office. It would be awesome if she could send Zoe her birthday wishes.

****

The elevator moves quickly, one floor after the other, and then, it stops. The slide doors open to reveal Yael’s operative team office.

I have a delivery for Miss Zoe, utters the delivery guy, who looks quite lost and is hidden by a flamboyant bouquet. There is a soldier standing still and tall at the room entrance. The lady soldier, with a cheeky smirk on her face, imagining Zoe's embarrassed reaction, points directly at Zoe. The delivery guy then walks in her direction.

I'm sorry, but at the moment, I can't reply. I'm really busy, but I'm fine, and I'll call you back as soon as I have a chance, so we can catch up. Send my greetings to everyone.

Yael's text made Shani think for quite a while.

Text messages sent to friends always have a distinctive character. Each and every one of us is recognizable by the way we text; we all have a unique style, whether it's the emojis or the punctuation. As a matter of fact, Shani believes the text is oddly detached and impersonal, surely not her friend's style, but what is even more alarming to her is the syntax itself. An agent on a mission who contacts a colleague always adds specific codes to prove his identity. It's the protocol.

In this case, Shani doesn’t recognize either her friend or her boss. This feeling, other than the fact that Yael hasn’t been answering her phone for a while now, except for these odd, cold texts, is really bothering her. The seed of suspicion is blooming in her guts and mind when suddenly, her mind is taken back to the reality. Indiscrete and nosy comments are filling the room as the delivery guy is walking towards Zoe, who is realizing what’s going on and is becoming more and more embarrassed.

When the delivery guy reaches Zoe's workstation and announces again that he has a delivery for her, her facial expression and complexion change, almost hiding that light veil of makeup on her face. Her gaze looks immediately for her partner’s, whom curious about what Zoe's reaction would be, is actually already staring back at her. The eye-language between the two of them lasts just a few instants, but for Zoe and Shani, it feels intimate and indefinitely long, even if there are other people witnessing the moment. During this endless heartfelt exchange of looks, Zoe feels caught off guard. She doesn’t know whether she is mad at her partner for putting her in such an embarrassing situation like this, or whether she loves her even more, if that’s possible, for her thoughtful surprise. The romantic mood is suddenly interrupted by Green’s comment, Girls! Y’all are giving me cavities! watching the whole flower delivery scene from the back of the room.

Guys, it’s so nice to have you all here. Come on Shlomit, don’t be a party pooper. Join us. We’re about to eat the cake.

I’m coming, I’m coming, he mumbles from his desk.

Shlomit has that gut feeling he always has when there is something completely off; that feeling of uneasiness overwhelms him. He’s not new to feeling this way, and it has always kept him safe in the past. He has this damn tingling sensation flowing through his toes, then, looking for Shani, he pokes his head around the computer in front of him. Shani! Have you heard from Yael? Have you tried to call her?

Of course, I tried, but she didn’t reply. After a few minutes, she texted me back, saying she was in the shower and everything was good.

That’s it? continues Shlomit. She didn’t ask or say anything else, did she?

Now that I think about it, her text was missing the codes we use when we are on duty. It probably just slipped her mind because she was just enjoying her shower. I’ll call her again later today.

Shani! When were you thinking of informing us about it? Shlomit’s voice becomes rougher than he wanted.

What’s wrong with you, Shlomit? It might just be a coincidence.

Are you serious, Shani?! You know I don’t believe in coincidence, especially when it comes to Yael and when she’s on a mission abroad.

Zoe holds Shani’s hand, who, after being scolded by Shlomit, is quite blue in the face. While she gives her a warm hug, she accidentally dirties her nose with some whip cream.

The noise coming from the back of the room is fading gradually. All Shlomit can hear is the voice echoing in the back of his head saying, Yael is in danger. I know it. I can tell she’s in danger.

He tries to locate Yael’s mobile phone through its signal. Good, her phone is active, and it’s in Canada, he thinks, while operating the computer.

Oh Shlomit, do you need a hand? You look worried, interrupts Green, who in the meantime has left the party.

Look, the Islamist cell in which Yael is trying to go undercover is very dangerous. It is made mostly of foreign fighters returned from Syria. They’re all dangerous people.

I see, Shlomit. Alright, just check to see if there are any suspicious activities and then come back to celebrate with Shani. She really cares about the unity of the group.

Of course, Green, no one knows how much I care about this group, but we need to watch our backs; and there’s something wrong about this whole story. You see? Here, look! Shlomit points to the monitor.

Look, Yael’s mobile phone stayed in the same position for the past three days. How is that possible?

Let me see. Damn, you are right! Girls, come and see! Shlomit geolocalized Yael’s phone! She hasn’t moved for the past three days! Green yells at the group still partying at the back.

Like a cloud filled with rain, Shani’s face changes. She knew that everything going to plan was too good to be true. She grabs her phone from the table next to the cake, and she pulls away from the open space.

Five minutes later, the elevator doors open. Yossi Kadosh is the first to get out, followed by Ronen and Shani.

"Guys, I need an update of what you’ve discovered! I want all the resources in Canada and North America to be available in 20 minutes. I need to retrace Yael’s last movements.

Who heard from her last? In the meantime, Ronen, you call the US Secretary of State and get in touch immediately with our Embassy in Canada.

Director, give me 5 minutes. I’m uploading the data in the software, Shlomit, without taking his hands off the keyboard, repeats like a mantra.

Ronen gets close to Yossi and rests his hand on his shoulder, If this were a criminal act, and not a coincidence, the attack would be addressed to us, a threat... his words are broken by the ringing tone of his mobile. With his left hand, he picks up the phone and takes it closer to his eyes.

It’s Youssef’s number. With a sneer of satisfaction, he puts his phone back in his pocket and continues talking with Yossi.

Shani, who is right in front of him, can’t help but notice it.

Chapter 2 - The Darkness

What’s happening? Where am I?

When we can’t use our sight, the other senses become sharper. Yael is trying in vain to dilate her pupils to perceive even the slightest presence of light. Darkness, pitch black. The depth of the darkness is as distressing as the lack of sounds. Her heart is racing so fast that it’s almost exploding out of her chest. The veins in her neck are pumping blood and adrenaline to the brain. A blow of wind caresses her shoulder. She’s frightened. She’s afraid of moving. She’s afraid of staying still. She smells freshly cleaned laundry, as scented as the laundry you smell when you stroll on Tel Aviv streets, mixed with manure. Her mind is trying to protect her. It takes her back to her childhood, when she would run in her grandparents’ backyard in Tel Aviv: She would run between the sheets, then to the old tree, and then to the family barn. That colourful image in her mind eases her, but then a gelid blow of wind brings her back to the present. She’s panting.

It could be a barn, but why? She’s trying to recollect the safe childhood memories, so that she can feel better, but fear has taken over. Her retching breath has a sinister echo in this colourless place. It’s like another dimension.

She must calm down. She needs to think clearly and understand what is going on around her.

What happened? I’m confused. I can’t remember. I can’t remember anything.

With her hands she tries to feel the space around her. In doing so, she’s stretching her hands and toes, almost to check that they are still at the end of her limbs. Without moving, she explores the surrounding, groping; the soil is humid, moist. She can feel a piece of wood.

It’s not wood. It’s a knife

Why a knife?

What’s happening to me? Where am I? Why?

She tries hard to alienate herself from this obscure place, thinking about when she used to look at the sunset and the stars; when her dad, returning from work, would call her for dinner. It’s working. Her heartbeat is becoming regular. Deep breaths. She’s relaxing her shoulders as she’s stretching her toes. Her body is getting acclimated to this condition. After all the time she’s spent here, she seems to have developed some sort of night blindness, and like lots of wild animals, she can now see in the dark quite well. Then, finally, the noise of a distant vehicle completes her sensorial experience, or at least this is what she thinks. Her brain associates it with her father’s car. An approaching vehicle lights up the space with its headlights, ripping the darkness of her soul.

An icy breeze makes her plunge into the obscurity of fear. The light, for a brief instant, is blinding. Her mind goes back to the knife. Her hands are bleeding; a few feet away is a human corpse.

She can’t understand.

Mommy, she barely mutters.

The car and the headlights are far gone. The light is gone.

There’s silence. There’s darkness, once again.

A scream.

Well, she’s recovering. I hope I haven’t dosed her with too much narcotic. Careful, she’s waking up. I need to make a call. You, Ahmad, check immediately her blood pressure and her pulse. She’s not dying on our watch, not here. We’re not risking it!

Good, her pulse is stable. She should wake up soon. Yalla yalla, grab some clean towels and a bucket of water on your way back.

Yael is cold. She can feel something crawling on her leg, then her shoulder. She widens her eyes; a spider. Everything is so confusing. The objects around her seem shapeless. Her lips are chapped, and she’s thirsty. Her head is getting heavier, and her eyes are hurting. She can hear a voice in the distance. Now it’s closer. She recognizes the smell-her brother’s smell. It’s Avner! How is that possible? It can’t be real!

Yael, Yael, wake up, Yael, Yael, Yael…

"Avner! Avner! Is that you? Oh, how much I’ve missed you! What’s happening? Is that really you? Her blurred sight slowly becomes normal.

Yael, Yael!

Abruptly, as if she was touched by a red-hot poker, she turns around with bulging eyes. The cold disappears; again, she’s catapulted violently into reality.

It wasn’t Avner!

Welcome back, Princess, says Nasir.

Yael’s pupils are wide open. She looks around, horrified. The ambiance is aseptic. A chair, a small table, and a little mattress on the floor. It looks like a prison cell. She can’t perceive a smell; she can’t hear a sound. She’s trying to identify the man’s face, looking at him with contempt. Still, she can’t make sense of any of it. Her hands and legs are tied up.

Princess, I know you have many questions: Who am I? Why are you here? Don’t be hasty. Soon, you’ll know everything.

As Nasir is speaking, Yael keeps looking around. She notices that, behind him, at the height of his gaze, there are tools on a table top with small rusty wheels. She can’t see them clearly, but she can tell that they are tools used by dentists, several syringes, and electrical utensils. A chill running from her stomach wakes her up completely.

You noticed my working tools, I see, says Nasir, directing his look to the table top while approaching Yael. If you do and say whatever I want, I won’t use any of them on you, but we have plenty of time. We aren’t in any rush. Would you like something to drink? he asks in an attempt to be cordial and kind.

Yael, who hasn’t voiced a sound yet, as she’s listening to Nasir’s words, turns her head away in a sign of refusal.

Princess, I understand. I was told you are a tough girl. I’ll leave you alone to think of the right thing to do, but you will surrender. Oh, you will surrender...

It’s unbelievable how much pain you can inflict on someone by simply adding chemical elements to the body or by removing them from it.

You will give in, Princess, one way or another, I give you my word.

Yael can’t help but stare at that small wheeled table top with the tools on it. She recalls the lessons she learned during the course in the Negev Desert. All these tortures she has already endured, but the fear of reliving the painful sensations on her body, on her psyche, makes her falter.

What’s going on, Princess? Seems like you lost that cocky attitude that you guys have? You’ve realized what’s waiting for you, haven’t you? Good, very good, threatens the guy as he’s taking out all his tools for the torture. His first pick is an eyeball dilator.

Yael stares at him, almost in an attempt to focus her vision, and immediately, like a flashback, she remembers her first days in the academy…

****

From a plexiglass stand in the middle of the auditorium, Yossi Kadosh, the director is speaking. If you are here today, it is because you were selected amongst the best of the youth that this Holy Land gave us. Only five percent of applicants are sitting exactly where you are now. And only forty percent of you will move on to the next phase of training. At the end of these three months, of the fifty of you, only a little more than ten people will become Mossad’s operative agents. The rest will be terminated, Yossi concludes his speech with a joke to ease some of the tension.

Yael looks around, scanning the faces of her fellow trainees. It is a habit that has grown in her and allows her to have a grasp of people’s character, their weaknesses, and their strengths. Right at the peak moment of the speech, the sound of a bell interrupts the director. Lunch break.

A brief break was well-needed. I’m still not used to waking up at 6 AM, she whispers to Shlomit, her best friend, while picking up her backpack.

Yael, what are you doing? Do you want to smoke a cigarette with us in the backyard?

No thanks, Shlomit. You know I hate smoking, but I’ll gladly keep you guys company.

What about you guys? Are you coming?

At the yard of the army camp, together with Yael and Shlomit there are also Aviv, Zoe and Shani, their fellow trainees.

****

Nasir's hands forcefully grab Yael's shoulders from behind. She's startled, but her mind comes back to the here and now.

Princess, I'd like to have some pieces of information from you! All the names of the components of your team, all their details. We also want the credentials to access the central system of Mossad. I know that you are trained to resist people like me, admits Nasir with sarcasm in his voice, but I am too.

The man knows that showing his victim what would wait for her if she doesn't comply will likely slowly crack her will to resist the