Heritage (29 page)

‘Sir, I think Godfrey's dead,' Bill said.

All eyes turned to Godfrey.

Oh God no, James prayed. Now there'd be an investigation, he wouldn't get away in the morning, he'd be stranded in this godforsaken hole.

‘Get a light, man, get a light,' he ordered, and his sergeant ran to the hut for a torch.

Five minutes later, when Godfrey regained consciousness with a groan, James felt immense relief.

‘Check the shipment,' he ordered his men, while he tended to Godfrey's head wound.

The men eagerly jumped to their captain's command, thankful to escape further questioning for the moment. While they checked the crates, they agreed that there would be no mention of the French woman.

As he inspected the first aid kit, James cursed the fact that the report of the theft in the morning would delay their departure. But at least it wouldn't take long, and then they'd be out. He couldn't have cared if the Arabs had taken the whole damn shipment. Let the Arabs and Jews wipe each other off the face of the earth, he thought, just get me out of this hellhole.

 

It was only when the Jimmy was well clear of Haifa that silence was no longer mandatory. Arab dress discarded, the truckload of young people could well have been any group of kibbutz workers returning from a night in town.

The young fighters, seated with Shlomo and the supplies in the back of the Jimmy, talked excitedly about the events of the night. The mission had gone according to plan and they were proud of themselves.

They had every right to be, Shlomo thought, they'd exercised discretion, just as they'd been ordered; no hot-headed youngster had killed indiscriminately. But he knew they'd wanted to. And they'd want to even more next time around. They'd been blooded – well and truly.

As they talked among themselves, Shlomo noted that they avoided any mention of what they'd seen, albeit briefly, through the hut window. There were a few meaningful glances but, out of deference to Ruth, seated with Eli and David in the front cabin which was open to the rear of the canvas-topped truck, no reference was made to the seduction of the sergeant. It was as it should be, Shlomo thought. Like them, Ruth was a fighter and she'd been doing her duty as one of the team. Any lewd reference would have been out of place. But these were young men with healthy libidos, no doubt frustrated by their current vow of celibacy, and Shlomo had no doubt there would be quite a deal of lascivious chat among them when they were on their own.

The three in the front cabin said nothing. When the ban of silence had been lifted and the others had started talking, David, driving, had plied Eli with questions. He'd wanted a blow-by-blow account of the mission, but Eli's responses had not been encouraging. He had answered gruffly and monosyllabically and then stared out of the side window, and they'd quickly lapsed into silence. Eli was such a moody bastard, David thought, sulking.

Ruth was grateful for the silence. Seated between the two men, aware of the nearness of Eli Mankowski, and trying to avoid any physical contact, she felt charged with an extraordinary energy. The danger was past, but adrenalin still pumped through her, and with it the strangest of urges. She desperately wanted sex. Beneath the short skirt, her nakedness responded to the truck's motion, and she longed to be penetrated, to rut like an animal. Her wanton seduction of the sergeant had in no way aroused her – she'd been focussed upon her purpose and the sexual act had been meaningless. But now, as the truck bounced over the rough desert road, her whole body was pulsing, and the unavoidable contact her thigh occasionally made with Eli's made her more aroused. She hoped he couldn't sense it.

Eli could. Her excitement was palpable, and it was having a profound effect upon him. Heightened sexual awareness was not uncommon after a mission – he experienced it at times himself – but it was always controllable. At least it had been in the past. Now, as he stared out the window, the image of her exposed, her skirt around her waist, consumed him. In the brief second when the sergeant had slumped to the floor and Eli had seen Ruth in her nakedness, the sight had meant nothing to him. He'd admired her commitment. Her orders as decoy had not specified fornication, and the lack of underwear was proof that she'd been prepared to go as far as necessary to distract the guards. She'd obviously put on a show for the watching soldiers as well, and he respected her for it. Now, feeling her beside him like a bitch on heat, he couldn't get the image out of his mind.

They drove directly to the training camp where they unloaded the ammunition and explosives by torchlight, and Eli ordered Ruth to stand watch in the cave which served as a lookout over the approach to the valley.

A wise and tactful decision, Shlomo decided as he watched her set off up the narrow track, the boots she'd exchanged for her high-heeled shoes incongruous with the short skirt and revealing blouse. The lookout cave was well out of earshot and it would give the men an opportunity to speak openly; they needed to let off steam.

Several minutes later, Eli himself wandered off into the night, and Shlomo thought nothing of it. Eli Mankowski never shared his men's enthusiasm after a mission, invariably choosing to be on his own.

 

Eli took her where she stood, against the wall of the cave, just the way he knew she wanted to be taken. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her boots pressed into his buttocks, the rocks digging into her back. When it was over, he left without saying a word.

As he circled behind the cave and approached the camp from a different direction, Eli refused to acknowledge any sense of guilt. He had broken one of his own cardinal rules: no sexual fraternisation among the unit. Any two of his fighters found guilty of the same action would have been instantly dismissed. But Eli had always placed himself above the others, and he told himself that one momentary lapse meant nothing.

But the following night, gathered about the
finjun
, Ruth's sexuality once again beckoned, and the knowledge that he could have her whenever he wanted was irresistible. He walked off to the distant grove of olives, knowing that, given time, she would join him.

No-one commented upon his departure. They knew the commander often preferred to be alone, particularly before and after a mission, and rumours that something big was in the planning abounded, since the commander and his lieutenant had left in the jeep that morning and had not returned until the evening meal.

Shlomo Rubens found Eli's distraction eminently understandable. The two of them had spent most of the day in meetings with Irgun and Lehi leaders at the secret joint headquarters recently set up in Jerusalem. The raid was only three days away, and the next day they would brief the unit. Eli had a lot to think about.

Eli's mind was far from the impending raid, however, when Ruth joined him in the olive grove an hour later. Again, they coupled like beasts, feeding off each other's lust. And again, when it was over and she'd left him, he refused to acknowledge any abuse of his leadership, but prided himself instead. Ruth Stein's uncharacteristic behaviour was proof of the power he had over her mind and her body, he told himself – it was a measure of her dedication to both him and the cause.

It didn't occur to Eli to question the power Ruth Stein may have had over him. Eli was not only a fanatic and a megalomaniac, but a master of self-delusion.

Ruth, too, didn't question her actions. The drive in her was compulsive. She was obsessed with Eli and everything he represented. So long as he wanted her, and in whatever capacity that might be, she was his.

 

‘Our orders are to liquidate the enemy,' Eli announced. ‘No prisoners will be taken. All men will be destroyed, as will any other force that opposes us.'

The briefing was held at the training camp – as specific missions were never discussed in the chadar ochel – the fighters squatting in the dust before their commander and his officers.

The strategy of aggression, Eli told them, was in direct retaliation to the Arabs' take-no-prisoners policy and the mutilation of Jewish fighters. The goal in capturing the village was also to improve Jewish morale and obtain supplies for Irgun and Lehi bases. But, knowing that his young fighters were eager to do battle, Eli had decided to place his main emphasis upon revenge.

‘The raid will symbolise a new era,' he declared forcefully. ‘It will be a warning to our enemies and a sign of liberation to our people. No longer do we rise only in defence. The joint forces of Irgun and Lehi will, from this moment on, attack all those who pose a threat to our homeland. Arabs will pay with their lives for the Jewish blood they have spilt!' He raised his fist and each of his fighters did the same as they joined in the chant.

‘Obliterate – until destruction. We are the future!'

The target of the joint attack was the village of Deir Yassin, an Arab Muslim stonecutter community of approximately seven hundred and fifty inhabitants. Situated on a rocky hillside west of Jerusalem and a mile or so south of the Tel Aviv highway, the village lay inside the United Nations' proposed Jerusalem international zone, its terraced stone houses descending to a corridor of flat land which led to Jewish Jerusalem's western suburb of Givat Shaul.

The village's strategic position made it the perfect subject for attack but, during the briefing, there was a great deal Eli did not impart to his fighters.

Deir Yassin had come under much discussion between Irgun and Lehi forces and the Haganah, Israel's military organisation. Upon being approached by the two guerrilla groups with a view to a coordinated attack upon the village, Haganah leaders had rejected the idea. They'd agreed that the capture and subsequent takeover of Deir Yassin would suit their plan to convert the pathway from Givat Shaul into an airstrip – but a truce existed, they said, which prevented an assault upon the village. Deir Yassin had been steadfast in honouring a Haganah-sponsored agreement to refrain from hostilities with neighbouring Jewish areas in exchange for protection from Jewish attack. The village was docile, the guerrillas were informed.

Irgun and Lehi refused to budge, insisting they would take Deir Yassin with or without military support, and, finally, Haganah Jerusalem Commander, David Shaltiel, washed his hands of the matter.

I have nothing against your carrying out the operation
, he wrote to the guerrilla leaders, aware that the takeover of Deir Yassin was, after all, to the Haganah's advantage. He further refused his own intelligence chief's urging to notify the town that the truce was over, maintaining that he would not endanger a Jewish operation by warning Arabs.

Eli Mankowski saw fit to communicate none of this detail to his unit, and Shlomo Rubens agreed. In keeping with Lehi's policy of blind obedience, it was wiser they be kept ignorant of the facts, and it would make little difference in any event, Shlomo thought. The fighters were young and hot-blooded – they would follow Mankowski wherever he led them and do his bidding, whatever it entailed.

The attack was planned for early Friday morning on April 9, just two days away, and, after weeks of covert operations, the members of Unit 6 couldn't wait to meet their enemy face to face.

Eli and his principal officers did not return to the kibbutz that night, but camped out at the training centre where a meeting had been arranged between the Lehi and Irgun unit commanders. Battle tactics were finalised, and ammunition from the stolen British cache was divided among the other guerrilla groups.

The following day, the fighters, like the farmers, retired to their barracks for the afternoon; they would be leaving the kibbutz at midnight to prepare for the dawn raid.

While the rest of the kibbutz observed siesta, Eli and Ruth again met in the olive grove. She was prepared, as before, for him to take her in silence and when their desire was sated to dismiss her without a word. But this time was different.

Slowly, he undid the buttons of her shirt, and exposed her breasts. He studied them, running his fingers over the already erect nipples. On the previous occasions, he'd paid no attention to her breasts – he hadn't looked at her at all during the ferocity of their coupling.

She waited, breathless.

‘Are you eager for battle, Ruth?' he asked, still intent on her breasts.

‘Yes.' She was eager for whatever he wished.

‘You're a true fighter now; you may be told to kill. Does the prospect excite you?'

The prospect of being told to do anything by him excited her.

‘Yes,' she said.

‘Are you ready to kill?'

‘Yes.'

‘Do you
want
to kill?'

The focus was no longer upon her breasts, although his hands remained there, fingers manipulating her nipples, the manic black eyes commanding, dictating, controlling her.

‘Yes.'

‘Say it.'

‘I want to kill.'

‘Say it again, Ruth.' His eyes didn't leave hers as he undid the buttons of her work trousers and slid them down over her hips. ‘Say it again for me.'

‘I want to kill.'

‘And again.'

Her trousers slid around her ankles. He was undoing his own now, his eyes still transfixing hers. She could feel his erection against her.

‘I want to kill.' She shook a foot free of a trouser leg, and parted her thighs for him.

‘Again,' he said as he lifted her, her legs instantly wrapping around him, trousers hanging from one foot and flapping against his buttocks.

‘I want to kill,' she panted through clenched teeth. She said it over and over as he entered her, and Eli, insane with lust and a sense of his own power, drove himself into her with brutal force.

Five minutes later, when she'd gone, he was left to reflect upon what he considered had been an extremely interesting exercise. It was unlikely Ruth would be given the chance to kill; the women of the unit were detailed as backup. With a shortage of weapons, the female fighters were to remain at the rear and gather much needed firearms and ammunition from the casualties. But he would like to see Ruth kill, he thought, and he wondered briefly whether he might place her in the frontline after all. Then he chastised himself: it had been a test, that was all, just a game really.