*Related chapter extract
Polanski drew her gloved fingers down her jaw line as the morning rain fell over a group of fighters, dressed in their former military uniforms, gathered around a new grave in a cemetery outside Be’er Sheva. She glanced at the patches of moisture on her fingertips then looked up at the foot of the grave. A tall woman in a tailored black suit gazed at the headstone, seemingly oblivious to the Rabbi, and his prayers, and to the fighters around her.
Polanski turned to her left as a hand traced down her side and she found a thick-set German commando. ‘This is becoming a habit, Wolff.’
‘Appearing when needed?’ Wolff whispered. ‘Never thought that could be a problem.’
‘Only when it’s not often enough,’ Polanski replied. ‘But I’m not complaining, just grateful.’
Wolff offered a brief smile then nodded towards the grave. ‘Are you going to be okay with this?’
Polanski sighed and clasped Wolff’s hand with hers, threading their fingers together. ‘I should be okay for now. If not, I’ll call. Or maybe I’ll knock.’
‘Another habit,’ Wolff whispered.
Polanski smiled then squeezed and released Wolff’s hand. ‘This is not the place to be cheeky. But thank you, again, for last night.’
Wolff gave her another smile. ‘This is what comrades do, and companions. Now, I’ll find another place to stand lest we ruin our friends’ goodbye.’
Polanski nodded as she watched Wolff’s form merge into the collection of fighters. A stray tear slipped down Polanski’s damp nose then she shook her head and whispered, ‘Who heard of a German or a Russian being so modest? Are we that–?’
A powerful hand gripped Polanski’s arm and a deep voice rumbled, ‘Stay with Karen when the service is over. I talk to her first then you remain behind.’
Polanski turned to find a broad Russian in an officer’s uniform standing behind her. ‘What’s wrong, Ivanov? Is someone a threat to Karen?’
‘Only herself,’ Ivanov replied. ‘I know you see the hints of trouble. And you saw the worst of last night. Watch over Karen. Leave the hunt to us.’
Polanski nodded. ‘Don’t start a battle without me.’
‘Why would we do that?’ Ivanov asked. ‘It’s time. Come with me.’
Polanski followed the Major as the other fighters placed pebbles around the grave before drifting towards the gates of the Be’er Sheva cemetery. Ivanov stopped behind Karen’s left shoulder and glanced down at Julia’s form covered by an Israeli and Spanish flag.
‘This is my fault,’ Karen whispered.
‘Rubbish,’ Ivanov snorted. ‘I had a perfect view from above. I watched everything on night-vision. The evacuation went like a training mission. And no one could have predicted a sniper.’
Karen shook her head. ‘Rocco knew both our fighters and the Army could defend the hospital from a surprise assault, so he used a sniper to bypass our defences. Also, Rocco’s men planned for Elli to see them in Jerusalem. They wanted to kill Julia in front of Elli.’
‘That’s the spectre of hindsight, ignore it,’ Ivanov said. ‘But if you were to blame for Julia’s loss, would Elli not be the first to do so?’
‘Maybe he is.’ Karen glanced up at Ivanov. ‘Why didn’t Elli come here today?’
‘Elli has no time for mourning, only vengeance,’ Ivanov replied. ‘I have met warriors like him. Elli knows you are not at fault. However, his mind is focused on the fight and nothing else.’
Karen sighed. ‘Is this why Elli wants Ashley to care for his child? The safest place for his daughter is under an angel’s wing.’
‘An angel that is perched on the shoulder of a formidable giant,’ Ivanov added.
‘I still don’t think asking Zorik to stay at home was right.’ Karen turned back to Julia’s grave. ‘He delivered Julia’s child, saved her girl’s life, and earned her respect.’
‘I have no doubt Julia forgives his absence,’ Ivanov said, ‘and she is able to rest knowing her little one has considerable protection.’
Karen’s form shuddered. ‘I forbid Zorik from hunting Rocco, too. Went against Ashley’s request. Could I give him any more reasons to hate me?’
‘The giant is not stupid.’ Ivanov gave a light cough. ‘About Rocco. Until he is found, Polanski is your shadow. No arguments.’
Karen spun around as Ivanov departed and her eyes fixed on Polanski. ‘Why?’
Polanski stepped up to Karen and traced her trigger finger down her employer’s moist raw cheek. ‘I know what you are thinking and feeling. If you don’t stop scrubbing your face, you will replace Julia’s blood with your own.’
Karen snarled and punched away Polanski’s arm. ‘Don’t touch me!’
Polanski tilted her head as tears trickled down Karen’s rain-streaked features. ‘No. You lost the right to give me orders.’
Karen scowled. ‘What?’
Polanski looked down at Julia’s concealed form. ‘I have seen many times through my own scope what a sniper’s bullet can do to a human skull. Last night I thought this happened to a friend. I was about to help Julia into the Hind when the bullet struck her. For a while my body was frozen. Then the last image I saw on the roof top filled my mind and I almost lost my stomach. Later, Karl told me I was shivering and crying more than Julia’s child but I did not make any sounds.’
Karen sighed. ‘Polanski, I’m–’
‘A loss has not affected me like that for a long time,’ Polanski continued. ‘When I woke up this morning, I realised an unconfirmed kill had broken me…again. The image I saw, and I can still see now, was your face covered in what the bullet had left of Julia’s head. It was the most frightening thing I had seen on any battlefield. You had no right to scare a friend like that, not telling me you were okay, and you have no right to treat me as a toy soldier.’
Karen placed her hand on the Russian’s shoulder. ‘I am sorry, Polanski. I was selfish in thinking I was the only one affected. How do you get used to feeling like this?’
‘You don’t,’ Polanski replied as she looked up at Karen. ‘You just develop ways of hiding or delaying the effects.’
Karen bowed her head. ‘Do you still consider me a friend?’
‘Always,’ Polanski said. ‘But I take orders from Ivanov, not you.’
Karen leant forward and wrapped her arms around Polanski’s back. ‘Julia was right. I don’t have any fighters, just my family.’
Polanski squeezed Karen against her with a tight hug. ‘You needed this much time to realise how special you are to us?’
‘So I didn’t learn any important skills at university,’ Karen said as they parted. ‘Now, what is Ivanov’s plan?’
‘I make sure you stay together,’ Polanski replied.
‘Okay. But there is something I need to do first.’ Karen turned to the mound of fresh soil by the open grave. ‘You may join me if you can find another shovel.’
For my current work, I haven’t decided on / conjured up a scene or event one or several characters to break down completely. In one draft chapter scene Krista almost cries due to the trauma of a near-death experience (almost drowning at the bottom of the villa’s diving pool). In another draft scene, Krista breaks during DYI wound and soft-tissue repair without anesthesia, and Dov and Freyja almost succumb to tears as Dov performs the surgery while Freyja tries to comfort Krista.
Another possible scene could be when Krista accepts the death of her older brother, Gur, and returns his plaque to the villa’s Memorial Wall. Krista tries to be sneaky, visiting the villa’s Wall at midnight to return Gur’s plaque while the others are asleep. When Krista turns away from the Wall, she discovers Dov and Freyja, dressed in borrowed IDF uniforms, standing to attention behind Krista…Sneak Level: Yes…Krista stumbles over to Freyja, collapsing onto her chest with tears streaming down her cheeks, and Dov scoops up both girls and carries them back to Krista’s room…Sneak Level: Don’t bother rolling…
I can’t think of any major (in-story) event that would make Dov cry. Maybe near the story’s end when Dov visits the parents of Aviva (a kibbutz girl who died protecting Dov, four years before the story), and when he visits Aviva’s grave at the kibbutz.