The Marsh Angel by Hagai Dagan (best thriller books to read .TXT) 📕

Back up! Tamir yelled. Put some distance between us and the mosque, but not too much.

The S.B. rang. Tamir grabbed the receiver. Tamir! Moti shouted on the other side, our forces on the ground are reporting renewed fire. Someone flanked them.

B3, Tamir thought. This is a serious operation.

I think I’ve got something here, said the producer at station five, his voice slightly quivering. The shooting went on as the van backed up. Tamir leaned over the station and put his hand on the producer’s shoulder. He didn’t intend to do so, it just happened. His hand was shaking, as well.

J1 to J2, J3. Radio check.

J1? Who the hell is that? Tamir wondered in exasperation. Moti, he called into the receiver, I’ve got new communications. Frequency 151.3 MHz. They’re calling themselves J1, J2, and J3. Try to pinpoint their location.

J1 to J2, J3. Radio check. Do you copy?

J, Tamir thought… That can only be… Moti, listen, what if J is jawwiya? Airborne unit?

That can’t be! This is a seaborne attack!

Or maybe that’s what they want us to think…

J2 to J1, why did you change the frequency? I hear you, over.

The voice rang through Tamir’s ears— a female voice. He pressed the receiver of the S.B. even tighter to his ear, and only a few seconds later noticed that his lips were moving, but no sound emerged from his throat. He gathered his wits and shouted, Moti! This is an airborne attack!

Tamir…

J1 to J2. Progressing towards the destination. Have you made eye contact with the red tower?

Moti! Tamir desperately screamed into the receiver, alert the forces! Tell them to get a chopper in the air or something! It’s an airborne attack! The seaborne attack was just a diversion, or a preparation attack, or… I don’t know. They’re looking for a red tower. What could that be?

Red tower? Are you certain?

Maybe it’s the amethyst tower in GHQ, Neta suggested. It has a red light on top, it’s very conspicuous.

Jesus Christ, Moti mumbled.

Moti? You’re cut off. What’s going on.

Hold on, Moti said, and the line fell silent. The uproar of forces running to-and-fro around Tamir continued. For a moment, he lost himself in the commotion and no longer had a grip on the situation. He felt as if he were in a dream, or a nightmare perhaps.

Tamir? Moti’s voice sprung from the receiver.

Yes.

The patrol boat approaching the tanker reports that two small aircrafts took off from its deck. They opened fire but couldn’t hit them. One of the aircrafts attacked the Dabur with machine gun fire. There are several casualties. They flew on towards the coast. The air-force is deploying fighter jets. A navy missile boat fired an anti-ship missile at the tanker and sank it. We reported the thing about GHQ. Our forces were instructed to head there.

The pipes, Tamir mumbled.

What?

They dismantled the pipe system so they could take off from the deck, like an aircraft carrier.

Allahu akbar! a shout sounded from the producer’s station. It’s J3, the producer said.

A helicopter hit one of the aircrafts, Moti said.

Where’s J2? Tamir asked himself. Where are you, Darija… Let me know if you hear something! he shouted over to the producer and got out of the Mole. He’s probably not going to hear anything else, he figured. She doesn’t have anyone left to speak to. The chopper downed J3, and J1 sank with the tanker. The sound of gunfire coming from around the mosque ceased. If she had continued towards GHQ, she would have been spotted, the chopper would have seen her. No, she couldn’t have gone there. So, where is she? Tamir surveyed the massive concentration of troops gathered around Hassan Bek and looked back up at the clouded sky. She’s in the clouds, he thought, she’s waiting in the clouds. That’s the only explanation.

A radio stirred somewhere nearby. Marzipan one to Marzipan commander. Return to normal?

Like hell, return to normal, Tamir thought. Suddenly, he heard calls coming from the direction of the mosque. He turned to face the source of the sound, and raised his eyes slightly upwards. An opaque, milky dawn revealed itself from behind the gray mass of clouds. Something stirred in the cloud, as if it were giving birth. A couple of seconds later, the cloud parted and a tiny gray aircraft emerged. The soldiers immediately dropped to the floor, and the guns of two armored vehicles were raised up. The guns started rattling, but the tiny aircraft swiftly vanished back into the cloud before emerging again from another corner, swooping down at the troops from behind, and spraying them with machine-gun fire. Chaos broke loose on the ground. Tamir thought he identified a small Palestinian flag mounted on the side of the gray Ultralight glider which vanished once again into the clouds. Two attack helicopters burst into the skyline and stabilized mid-height. It’s gonna be over soon, Tamir thought to himself; a vague feeling of anxiety pervaded his body, a sheer black veil descended over his thoughts. He started walking away from the Mole.

Tamir? he heard one of the producers call his name.

He didn’t answer and kept walking, plodding his way through the nebulous milky expanse stretching between Hassan Bek Mosque and the houses on either side of Yarkon Street. It was an open expanse, littered with all sorts of objects, miscellaneous junk and shapeless heaps. Dawn pulsed within him, naked and bear. Tamir walked on, his gaze fixed on the heavy clouds as a hesitant sun tried in vain to pierce through. The forces around the mosque seemed to him like an indistinct blurry mass. Tel-Aviv drifted further and further away, the sea receded. He couldn’t see a thing around him. The clouds were closing in on him, condensing thicker and thicker, dipping lower and lower. A cold, thin rain started to trickle. The dawn retreated. Darkness once again descended over the face of the earth. The sea rumbled in the distance. His gaze was fixed on the