Bloody junction Eleventh son of Haman

Ending. Start at No. 489

1

Recently, Avi began to feel some kind of change in Abu Salme. He could not put it into words, but his intuition told him that something was happening to the agent. One day he decided to check: he came to a pre-arranged meeting in a cafe on the outskirts of Beirut ahead of time. He immediately found there two employees of some special service: one on the street, the other in the cafe itself, at a table next to the window. They were not Lebanese, because of the accent and subtle details of their behavior, they could be mistaken for Iraqis.

Avi was firmly convinced that when he went to the meeting, there was no external observation of him. On the phone with Abu Salma, they did not agree on the venue of the conspiracy meeting (each time they met in a new, predetermined place). It means that some kind of special service received information either from Abu Salma himself or through him.
It was impossible to leave the cafe right away. This would allow employees of unknown counterintelligence to understand that they were discovered. Abu Salma, meanwhile, did not appear. Avi sat in a cafe for about twenty minutes, drank a cup of coffee and brandy and went out. On the street, he was also being watched, and the counterintelligence officers were unusually close to him, fearing to accidentally miss him.
It started to rain quite heavily, but Avi slowly, as if unaware of anything, walked down the street and even tried to remove the old, roughly painted prostitute, but did not agree with her in price. For a long time she shouted after him dirty curses. Returning to the cafe, Avi made sure that Abu Salma did not appear there. Consequently, he either cooperates with these two, or is captured by them.
Sitting in his jeep, Avi discovered everything in the car as he had left. Nothing was missing, but someone searched the car. Avi turned on the ignition ...
A few minutes later, he again noticed the surveillance and turned into an unfamiliar street, then changed direction several times. From surveillance, Avi seems to be gone. But those who pursued him apparently knew Beirut and the surrounding area better than he did. A bright light hit the face suddenly, a piercing howl rang out somewhere. Directly at him through the wet semicircles in the windshield two blurred moons swept. His hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. He turned sharply to the side. Quite close to him, just a few inches, the oncoming car, a black Lincoln, sped along the glittering black road.
Avi was calm, driving cautiously, without stopping and vigilantly peering through the glass streaked with rain streaks into the winding tape of a highway. He understood that in a minute the persecutors would turn around and begin the persecution again. They do not follow him, they want to eliminate him. There were at least four of them in the car. The bill was clearly not in his favor. Avi traveled several kilometers and, turning to the side of the highway, stopped the car, took out a handkerchief, wiped his forehead, took four deep breaths. Where did he go? Rows of black trees along the highway told him nothing. He got out and breathed in the raw air. Suddenly, behind him was heard the squeal of brakes.

2

Three days later, Avi was still alive. He lay in the light chamber of a first-class Jerusalem hospital. His doctor was a silent and very serious doctor Zilber. Often, the chief surgeon of the hospital, a cheerful, fat man, Professor Ginsburg, also visited him. He allegedly came to chat about the cinema and theater, but Avi saw that he was watching him closely. When Dr. Zilber asked Avi what chances are for recovery after a possible operation, Professor Ginzburg answered directly, without hesitation: "Fifty-fifty."
Avi gave painkillers, and he did not feel much pain. Only the hands of the needles ached after five blood transfusions and intravenous infusions of glucose and saline. For some reason, the veins in her arms became harder to grope. But soon the needles were pulled out of his wounded veins altogether, no more blood transfusions were done, he could sit down and take liquid food.
One day, the door swung open and Ruth stepped into the chamber. She smiled shyly, walked over to the bed, leaned over and timidly put her lips to his forehead. He took her hand. She cried softly.
A nurse Rosa Rovner, a medical service lieutenant, entered the ward. She turned on the light and made some notes in her papers.
“Rose, this is Ruth,” Avi said.
“We already know each other,” Rosa answered sullenly. Ruth's tears made no impression on her, and she added with a stern look: “Don't linger too much here.”
And went out, slamming the door. Avi broke her heart on the first day.
“You're my fault here!” I should have stayed with you! Then everything would be fine ...
- No, you could not stay. The order of the General ... How did I get here?
- You were shot at. In the back. People from Iraqi intelligence. Abu Salma betrayed you. This fool decided to put into the business the money he received from you. And got caught. He was tortured and he betrayed you.
- And where he?
- He was executed.
- Who brought me out of Lebanon?
- Our guys. Two operatives by order of the General secretly guarded you. You did not even know about it.
Avi was silent for a long time.
“If it's hard for you to say, don't tell,” Ruth said.
“I can talk,” he said softly.
“I was in Algeria, but returned to Jerusalem as soon as I found out.” I got a telegram ...
“You couldn't have flown in,” Avi interrupted.
- You'll get better soon, everyone says it! Said Ruth anxiously. Her face was pale.
“Of course I will,” he answered.
“I spoke to Dr. Zilber yesterday.” He didn’t tell me neither yes nor no when I asked him about you. He says: "Only time will tell." I hate doctors.
“He’s a very good doctor,” Avi said. He had a deep sympathy for Dr. Zilber, calm, businesslike, reliable. “He just doesn't like to play the prophet out of himself.”
- But he could at least a little hope! Ruth sobbed like a child.
- Apparently, did not consider it necessary. Listen, you must fly to Algeria immediately. You will wait, that you in a shame are thrown out from office.
- No, I will stay in Jerusalem.
“Jerusalem is beautiful,” Avi said with a smile, “and when you appear in it, it becomes even more beautiful.”
- Your compliments are strikingly commonplace and absolutely identical for all women. I hate them. But today ... If you make compliments, it means that things are getting better.
He was glad she came. In her presence, he could swim into the pleasant world of dope and dream, in which the day merges with the night.
In the hospital ward, Avi thought, like a movie. The hero is in the center, all the searchlights are aimed at him. The doctor is the director. He observes most of the performance from behind the scenes, ready to intervene when necessary, whispering to the actors that you must go out with a smile and should not overly delay monologues. And some people in general will soon have to play a role in the mute scene of the funeral of the main character with tears, sighs and a shootout between the graves. Sisters, like working scenes, transfer thermometers, enemas, vessels, instruments for blood transfusion from place to place. The hero is an ungrateful man, he grumbles at his position in the grave and would not mind living, but his fate has long been determined by the director and screenwriter. ”
“You’ll just be surprised when you find out,” Ruth interrupted his thoughts, “what a lot of people show attention to you.” Some beg the doctors to let you go, others are plotting to arrange an escape for you. The guys from “Matkal” sent you a bouquet from the most expensive flower shop. True, wonderful?
- True! I am delighted with the flowers they bought. It seems to me that I attend my own funeral. Send the bouquet to the women's section.
“I was only allowed here for five minutes,” Ruth said. “I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.” Get well and do not think about anything bad. Don't scare your friends like that. The wife of the General sends you his greetings and a kiss.
The lieutenant of the medical service looked into the room and made terrible eyes, expressively tapping her finger on the clock.
- I'm leaving, I'm leaving, sister! - scared exclaimed Ruth.

3

At night, he was urgently taken to the operating room. Tests have shown that internal bleeding has begun. Slow, dangerous, debilitating bleeding.
While he shaved his chest and abdomen and had not yet undergone anesthesia, he clearly realized that he was not afraid. “Fifty-fifty,” said the doctor. A fairer game conditions a person can not and demand. Faces in his darkened consciousness appeared and disappeared, fleeting, silent, subtle, as if enveloped in a fog. He felt a sharp pain, but he held back moans. There was a sound of the sea surf in my ears. He woke up. Fell asleep. Quiet voices of doctors, whispering behind his back. It was painful, but the feeling that he did everything right helped him to survive.
Three days after the operation, Avi could already sit in bed and even eat, but the temperature did not drop. Over his head hung a plastic bag, day and night that fed the body with antibiotics. Whether from heat, or from antibiotics, his consciousness was dizzy, he began to lose the sense of time and could not remember how long he had been in the hospital. How many days have passed since he returned to Jerusalem? The doctors were silent, but Avi saw that they were worried. And yet the temperature began to fall, and Dr. Zilber said that if the normal temperature lasts another week, then there is nothing to worry about. He even allowed visitors to visit him - no more than two per day.
First came Ruth. Her face, when she entered, said Avi no less than a mirror. On the eve of her arrival, he shaved. What Avi saw in the mirror shocked him. There was such a greenish deadness on his face that he decided that he would no longer shave.
Entering the chamber, Ruth smiled nervously. She was wearing a blue dress. Once he told her that he loved most when she was in blue.
“I should have seen you,” Ruth said. - Tomorrow, I still have to fly to Algeria. I have to be there, otherwise an important operation will fail.
“Of course, Ruth!” - his own voice seemed to him very weak.
- I've been here for three weeks. They told me that they would fire me from Mossad. I know you wouldn't want that.
- That I lay here so much? Avi asked.
Ruth looked at him in surprise.
- Yes.
- For a long time. And the doctors don't want to tell me when I get out of here.
- They do not know. Dr. Zilber says you won't be able to work for at least another six months.
“I know,” Avi said. “He told me that too.”
- Dr. Lorenz says there are encouraging symptoms. Very encouraging.
- It is very encouraging to me.
- Dr. Lorenz says that you will have to rest for a long time after you leave here. Someone must look after you. When I return, you will move to me.
He imagined her dazzling white house on a quiet street of the Old City, a small garden, dusty leaves of trees, a desk, books on the shelves. He felt warm and comfortable.
- Are you tired. I will not bother you anymore. Get well! Said Ruth, kissed him gently and quietly went out. Nurse Rosa Rovner appeared in the doorway and glanced vehemently after her.
Two weeks later, Avi was discharged. On the evening before his discharge, Dr. Zilber had a long conversation with him. Dr. Zilber, an ascetic old man who does gymnastics every morning for half an hour and eats two sabras and three figs every day, comfortably sitting in his chair, began:
- You are lucky, Avi, many in your place would not have survived. But you survived. The devil knows how you did it, but the fact that you live is a fact. Now you must be careful. Very, very careful. Strictly stick to a diet. And not a drop of alcohol. During the year - not a sip of wine. And it's better to stop drinking altogether until the end of life. A sip of liquor, and you - dead! And not a single cigarette! About work forget for half a year. I got the impression that you have complicated your life, I would even say: you have made it too complicated. Simplify your life, Avi. Simplify. And eat the sabra. It is the most useful fruit in the world. Sabra is used in the treatment of diseases of the respiratory system, nervous system, musculoskeletal system, for cleansing the body and as a general tonic. That is, the Sabra gives exactly what you need most right now. It is best to buy it directly on cacti farms. I highly recommend a small cactus farm near Jerusalem. From 25-th highway you turn off to Yeruham, and a huge cactus field appears across the 2 kilometer. At the farm there is an excellent restaurant and a small shop. All year round, you can buy fruits cut by you, at a price several times less than in any Jerusalem fruit shop. And here they cook the most delicious confiture of cactus and raspberry and prepare a stunning shug of hot pepper, tomatoes and pulp of the same sabra.

4

Avi walked slowly along the street, squinting against the sun, his jacket dangling on it, like on a coat hanger. The day was clear, warm. He warned no one that he was being discharged so as not to jinx it. Already leaving the hospital, he was afraid that someone would catch up with him and announce that a terrible mistake had occurred and that he should be urgently returned to his bed and operated again.
But no one was chasing him. He walked without any purpose on the sunny side of the street. Passersby seemed beautiful to him. The girls, slim and flexible, walked, their heads held high, smiling slightly, as if remembering the stormy joys of the previous night. Young men in military uniform walked confidently, boldly looking into the counter. Small children, clean and funny, swiftly rushed past him. The old people on this sunny day looked cheerful and seemed to forget about the transience of their lives.
Avi found himself in the Old Town. This is the hotel “King David”, the bar of which he loved so much. Avi glanced at his watch: noon. It's time to drink. He entered. The bar was almost empty. At the far end of the rack two men were talking. The bartender came up - a red-faced, mighty physique. Former paratrooper. The bridge of nose is slaughtered, there are scars on the cheek. The bartender recognized him immediately.
- Double puerto rican brown rum and coffee? He asked confidently.
- Yes! Avi answered happily and watched with great interest as the bartender poured rum into a bluish glass. He stood in thought, looking at the prepared drink, and with the delight of the schoolboy who had escaped from the lessons, took the first sip. “A sip of alcohol, and you are dead!” Avi remembered the words of the doctor and smiled. Still alive, he sipped from his glass again. Rum has never seemed so pleasant to him. “And I wonder what that elite rum that we bought at a crazy price tastes like in Belgium? Drink it now and have a bite of chocolates “Royal Gift”. No, the spirit is not enough, "thought Avi and smiled again.
The bartender seemed to be the only person who was not surprised by the changes in Avi. He simply asked:
- From the hospital?
- Yes! - also simply answered Avi.
“I also got there once,” said the bartender, “and went out, so the people shied away.” Erysipelas was - well, that's exactly like yours. More beautiful in the coffin. But the paratroopers do not die - you know ...
- Tankhanim we notice! Anahnu ha-rishonim! Mi Ain Camon! Marines do not die. We are first. If not us, then who! Said Avi.
And they both laughed. Because both were from the same brotherhood - the brotherhood of paratroopers. And there was no brotherhood in the whole world stronger than this.