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

locations he received were too broad and unhelpful. He called Efroni.

What’s up, Kidonit? answered a tightly-wound intelligence analyst on the other side.

Tamir told her that he was on reserve duty, and that he needed some help.

I see they’ve hung another reserve soldier out to dry? she laughed. What’s going on, is the scene hot?

He described the content of the summaries as best as he could.

Honestly, I’m not very familiar with your networks, she said, but that Abu ‘Antar you’re seeing has cropped up a couple of times in the past, mainly in idle provocations or fake attacks on the purple line.20 What they do is, they enter the strip, settle within mortar-fire range of the fence and shoot at it. They know that alerts the whole system. They just want to mess with us. That could be what you’re looking at now.

Tamir thanked her. Another summary landed at his desk. A conversation between Abu ‘Antar and someone named Kawkab 3. The summary read: Kawkab 3 says he’s arrived, he’s at the spot, and he’s waiting for Kawkab 4 to arrive with the…

With the what? Tamir couldn’t make out the producer’s handwriting. He went into the reception room and asked who wrote the summary. The producer who had replaced Ophira raised her eyes from her panel and stared at him blankly. He went over to her and showed her the part he couldn’t decipher.

Honestly, I didn’t really get it either, she said. She sounded distant to Tamir, as if she were speaking from another room, from another world. Tis‘a min? I don’t know what that means.

Tis‘a min? Odd. Okay, send it out to be transcribed.

She shrugged her shoulders. Buzzing and beeping sounds filled the reception room. Why don’t these people just go to sleep? Tamir thought to himself angrily. What did I ever do to them? He stepped out of the bunker, took a breath of fresh air, and looked at the shimmering lights atop the mountains ahead. Beyond the incessant laborious buzzing of the antenna fields, the Galilee seemed quite peaceful. Almost abandoned. Tamir sighed and disappeared back down the mouth of the bunker.

He went over to the transcription station. He knew the transcriber. Finally, a familiar face, he thought to himself and shook his hand. The transcriber removed his earphones and handed him the corrected summary. Tis‘a mim, he said, 9M, that’s what he’s saying.

9M? What’s that?

Beats me, said the transcriber. Maybe it’s a weapon? Or a type of binoculars?

Could be, Tamir said. He went back to his desk and asked to have the Abu ‘Antar and Kawkab 3 stationed pinpointed again. In the meantime, he opened a booklet titled ‘Weapons in Possession of Hostile Forces in Lebanon’. He found the chapter dedicated to Hezbollah and quickly flipped through it. Rocket-propelled grenades… no… Mortars… on… he couldn’t find anything that fit the bill. Anti-aircraft missiles… no… Anti-tank missiles, MILAN, Sagger… Ah! 9M111 Fagot. Fagot? He’s waiting for a Fagot? Where the hell is he, damnit? He turned the dial on the S.B. phone once more and yelled: where’s the location?!

Relax, I’ve got it for you, the person on the other side of the line said. A pretty accurate location.

Hallelujah, Tamir said.

Around Bida-Hula. I’m sending you the location.

Tamir looked at the map, and then at the coordinates. It’s a pretty large area, but not that big, and it’s right on the purple line. He called Northern Command and reported a high likelihood of Fagot fire in the immediate future, towards the purple line around Bida-Hula.

What did you say your name was? the girl from Northern Command asked.

Tamir.

Tamir? I don’t know you.

I’m on reserve duty.

And are you sure about what you’re saying?

No.

You know I’m about to put the whole army on its feet, right?

Yes.

So you better be certain.

I’m not certain. I’m sending you the details. Your call.

He hung up and started reporting the communication. He annotated the report, writing that based on pinpointed location, the area is most likely… and there’s a likelihood that… he sighed in vexation. Same old game, he thought, same old goddamn game. He sent the dispatch, and made up his mind— he was never, under any circumstances, coming back here again. This was going to be his last reserve duty.

Summaries kept flooding his desk. Many other operatives were running around helter-skelter in other sectors. Tamir couldn’t understand whether they had anything to do with the whole Fagot thing, or if they were up to something else completely. He couldn’t establish a clear picture of what was going on. A report came in about fire opened at Karkom outpost. That’s a completely different sector, Tamir thought. Perhaps the whole story with the Fagot is a diversion? And how come nothing came through about Karkom? Perhaps something had, and he just didn’t pick up on it?

He called Efroni again. Yes, we had something, the intelligence analyst said, but it happened too fast. We didn’t catch it in time. Anyway, it’s fairly routine. Small-arms fire at an outpost. It’s meaningless. Tamir asked if every night was like this. Yes, she replied, more or less. He sighed. A warning issued by Northern Command about a potential attack flashed on his computer screen, most likely targeting patrols along the fence. Tamir knew that there wasn’t much else they could do, and at the same time knew that a direct hit by a Fagot missile on an army vehicle or APC would be devastating. He waited. The clock struck 3 a.m. The flow of summaries slowly dwindled until finally coming to a stop. He shrugged his shoulders and got up to leave the bunker.

Outside, the base looked like the surface of Mars, minus the mystique, like a bad sci-fi story. When he reached the sleeping quarters, he forgot where his room was and accidently opened the door to a different room, turning on the lights to an uproar by several startled and highly-displeased rudely-awakened soldiers; he quickly exited the room, and opened the door to another wrong room, before finally finding the