Disappearance (A Mystery and Espionage Thriller) Read online

  DISAPPEARANCE

  Niv Kaplan

  Copyright © 2012 Niv Kaplan

  All rights reserved

  . ISBN: 978-1490338552

  ISBN-13: 1490338551

  TO MY LOVE TALI

  AND MY SEVEN BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN

  CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS vii

  PROLOGUE Pg 1

  PART ONE: THE ABDUCTION Pg 8

  PART TWO: THE DISCOVERY Pg 73

  PART THREE: THE HUNT Pg 138

  PART FOUR: THE SIGHTING Pg 236

  PART FIVE: SHOWDOWN Pg 291

  EPILOGUE Pg 349

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This novel has waited a very long time to be published and could not have been written without the love and patience of my family and friends.

  Though the characters are fictional, they are all shadows of my life.

  As a token of appreciation, here are the first three chapters of my new book "TRACKS". My new book will published in Amazon/Kindle very soon and you will be informed as soon as the book is launched.

  Click here

  PROLOGUE

  The commandos could only speculate why this particular night was chosen for the mission. The major and his lieutenants were supposed to be experienced enough to know the risks of operating on such a luminous night.

  The air was cold and still. The few scattered clouds did little to conceal the brilliant full moon. The distinct contours of the rugged, unforgiving land could be seen in great detail for miles around.

  Sergeant Eitan Barlev would have welcomed a full moon on almost any given night. During exercises, while maneuvering through rough terrain with no map or light sources, relying solely on his memory to find the route, such a night would be an appreciated accomplice. He could anticipate the terrain ahead. It was easier to recognize and easier to compare with what had been memorized from the map. He would not repeatedly fall over rocks and branches with the heavy gear he carried, and the assignment would be completed much faster, leaving time for sleep, before having to get up the next morning to study another route.

  On this particular night, Eitan would have preferred darkness. The dark would conceal his movements from enemy eyes and reduce the threat of being detected and fired upon. To anyone on the special raiding forces operating behind enemy lines, a dark, moonless night, despite its maneuvering difficulties, felt much safer.

  However, across the border, he did not question decisions. He obeyed orders. Whether it was a wise decision or not made no difference. He was concerned with staying alive, with or without a full moon.

  The ambush was in place and now he was lying on his stomach deep in enemy territory. The intelligence reports indicated the village served as a hiding place for terrorists aiming to strike Israeli settlements across the border. The Israeli Defense Forces, the IDF, decided to raid the village, punish accomplices by blowing up their houses, and possibly capture informers. Any of the numerous terrorist factions dispersed in and around the unruly no man's land of southern Lebanon was a threat to the success of the operation. They would commonly avoid head on collisions with the proficient, well organized Israeli forces, but would use effective guerilla warfare to draw blood from their powerful enemy. They regularly operated units of three or four who would ambush the raiders with swift hit and run assaults using machine guns, rocket launchers, booby traps, land mines, light artillery, and anything that would discourage the Jewish neighbors from invading their land.

  The squad was arranged in a full circle, covering all sides and all possibilities of approach. Their objective was to sabotage any attempt made by terrorist reinforcements coming to assist the village that was being attacked by the main force. Once the attack was over, they were to wait in place for the main force and join them en-route, back to the border.

  Eitan noticed he was the only one awake. All other eleven troopers were in different stages of uneasy sleep. He had seen it before. Fatigued soldiers never got more than three hours of sleep a night and had to constantly fight themselves to stay awake. He could understand it happening during night exercises or while guarding the base, recalling himself dozing off on more than one occasion performing these duties.

  Falling asleep this side of the border, was suicide, he thought, marveling at his indifferent colleagues. No matter how tired, cold, or worn out he felt, he was considerably more afraid of what could happen if he were to fall into unconsciousness at that juncture, leaving himself and the reckless crew around him completely exposed.

  He shivered as he looked around. Threatening shadows seemed to be creeping in on him. As he checked to make sure his machine gun was loaded and in firing mode, he was struck by the peculiarity of the situation. There he was, alone for all practical purposes, ten kilometers deep into terrorist land, watching over a bunch of useless troopers. He recalled how in the briefing before the raid, they had been warned of the hazards of falling asleep. A month prior to this raid, a medic was killed when a trooper who dozed off, woke up confused and opened fire, killing the medic and wounding two others, mistaking them for enemy soldiers. Falling asleep was dangerous in any given situation, but fatigued troopers could never entirely control the urge.

  The squad commander, Lieutenant Gilad, was to Eitan's immediate right. Eitan could see his eyelids fluttering shut and his chin pressed hard against the barrel of his machine gun supporting his head. The night vision goggles were strapped around his neck.

  Eitan kicked him. He woke up for a brief moment, and then fell back into uneasy sleep. Eitan kicked him again, a little harder. The lieutenant woke up, looked around, mumbled a few words, and was getting ready to fall asleep again. "You're dozing off,” Eitan whispered. "Let me have the goggles." The lieutenant had no objections.

  Eitan surveyed the area. With a full moon, he could see extremely well without the night vision spectacles. With them, it was almost as if there was daylight.

  The ambush had been set up in a fork of two very wide dry stream beds that were known routes used by terrorists coming from northern Lebanon, southward toward the Israeli border. The main stream bed traversed in a southeast-northwest direction. Thick, impassible underbrush covered its banks, but the stream itself was essentially bare, creating an ideal footpath. The village under attack lay southeast of where the ambush was set, on the bank of the main stream bed. The main force had circled around and invaded it from the north. Eitan could not see the village, but he could hear explosions and machine gun fire coming from the general direction.

  He saw them just as a cloud covered the moon.

  At first, it was a trifling clatter of pebbles stirring that alerted him. Eitan was experienced enough to notice such movement. Three years of night exercises had developed his instincts to the point where he could sense very small changes in noise levels, smells, and terrain shapes. Initially, he had felt quite uncomfortable during night exercises. It took time and endless hours of maneuvering before his senses became accustomed to operating in the dark and he learned to appreciate the night as an ally.

  He detected the movement with the goggles. Several figures were approaching their location. He thought there were three, but could not be certain. They were coming from the direction of the village or possibly the border, moving carefully on the main stream bed.

  He considered the alternatives. The machine gun bursts and sounds of explosions had just ended so the likelihood of it being the main force coming to meet them seemed remote. The main force would not be able to make it from the village in such a short time. He wondered whether he too had dozed off for a while not noticing time had elapsed. He pinched himself to make sure he was awake. Another poss
ibility was the main force sending a small squad ahead with some prisoners, but he immediately ruled out that option, certain that forces would never split up in enemy territory. He was convinced that if for some unknown reason the main force did split up, they would have notified the ambush in advance, even at the expense of breaking radio silence.

  Eitan raised the night vision goggles and carefully studied the figures. He had to make an immediate decision. Making a mistake in identification could cost the lives of his buddies. He had to be sure. He looked carefully, noticing the way they moved. It was disorderly. Friendly forces would not be moving in such manner. He tried to determine the kind of weapons they carried but they were too far away. Then he noticed they were not wearing helmets; all friendly forces wore helmets at all times in enemy territory.

  He came to a decision. Terrorists fleeing the village!

  The thought reverberated in his head, tensing his muscles. They were one hundred meters from the ambush when he woke up the lieutenant and quickly passed the word around. The terrorists were closing in. He knew right away that they would not have time to follow the conventional ambush procedure. It took the guys a while to realize what was going on. Lieutenant Gilad signaled the people in back to remain still while the front six got ready to fire.

  Eitan clutched his machine gun and put his finger on the trigger. He was excited, his palms suddenly sweaty. He could feel his heart thumping and his body tense as a spring ready to pop. He kept his eyes on the images. They were inching closer, moving carefully in his direction. The adrenaline was flowing, the weariness completely forgotten. These were the moments they had trained so long and hard for. These were the skills they had acquired. He was eager to put them to the test.

  The thought that he was about to kill another human being never entered his mind. Combat training had conditioned him to treat the enemy like the cardboard targets used at the shooting ranges. Terrorists were not human, he had been preached, they were a threat that had to be dealt with, swiftly and fiercely. The dark figures were about fifty meters from the ambush when the moon appeared again, shining as bright as ever. It may have been slightly too far to pull the triggers, particularly at night, but with such vision and with the threat of being spotted, the ambush opened fire.

  Eitan took aim at the figure to the far left. His M-16 was set to semi-automatic for better accuracy. He squeezed the trigger three consecutive times before the figure crumpled to the ground. The two other figures fell at the same time. The ambush kept on firing until the lieutenant gave a signal to stop. It was a short burst of fire lasting no more than ten seconds, but it seemed an eternity.

  Everything was quiet again. For a brief moment the air stood still as everyone held their breath, assessing the damage. Then another signal was given and two grenades were thrown in the direction of the fallen figures. As they exploded, the front six quickly got up and attacked by brutish force, firing their weapons mercilessly. The remaining six ran at an angle and took up positions where they could cover the six who were rapidly approaching the fallen terrorists.

  Eitan moved swiftly but carefully. He was at the far left of the six who were approaching. They now had to verify the kill! Tricky and dangerous, this part of the combat exposed them to any wounded or surviving members. Lieutenant Gilad was in the middle, flanked by three troopers on one side and two on the other. They kept a fair distance from each other while moving, minimizing the risk of getting hit by random gunfire. The figures lay motionless on the ground. There were three. Wearing all black clothes, black head covers, and black sneakers, each was armed with a Russian made AK-47 and several grenades. They all carried backpacks. The lieutenant shot each figure twice in the head, before giving the signal to approach. The terrorists were laid on their backs. The grenades and machine guns were taken along with the belts holding the spare magazines. The backpacks were removed along with a map that was in the hand of one of the fallen terrorists. The lieutenant radioed the main force and Forward Command, letting them know of the skirmish and its consequences.

  Three dead terrorists; all friendly forces without a scratch!

  The six remaining troopers appeared. They were ordered to spread out and be on alert for other enemy forces in the area. Eitan handed the orphaned backpacks to two of his mates, keeping the third for himself. He was about to strap it on, when a side pocket opened and its contents fell out. He lowered himself to his knees and fumbled around, recovering a leather wallet and a small round object. Stuffing the wallet in his khaki pant pocket, he examined the round object recognizing a plastic receptacle used for holding film.

  It seemed a bit small and a bit too light to qualify for a booby trap, so he carefully opened the plastic cover and pulled out a roll of negatives. It seemed odd, but he had no time to ponder over it. He carefully put the negatives back in the box and threw it in his shirt pocket.

  He heard the lieutenant issue orders to start moving in the direction of the main force which had completed its mission and was heading for the border - a slight change in plan.

  "What do we do with the bodies?" he whispered.

  "We leave them, there is no time!" was the reply. "We're in too deep to carry them back and other enemy forces may be on their way."

  The force began moving south. Lieutenant Gilad walked in front flanked by a trooper on each side. The rest moved in single file. Eitan moved last. He looked back at the lifeless figures feeling something amiss. They normally took enemy bodies back across the border, alive or dead. It served the intelligence community a great deal. But it was not to be this time.

  The squad met the main force some two kilometers southeast of the ambush site. After some discussion between Lieutenant Gilad and the major in charge, they continued trekking toward the border. A gray dawn appeared as they were reaching their destination. After an eventless march of some ten kilometers through rough terrain and some maneuvering to avoid the land mines that were set in front of the fence, the force was back in friendly territory.

  Eitan felt relief. They were met and congratulated by Northern Command's top brass and by their brigade commander. Their renowned company chef along with his assistants handed them sandwiches and steamy cups of black coffee. They were led to the debriefing hut where they were allowed to take off their gear. The heavy machine guns, grenades, spare magazines, , knives, rocket launchers, and helmets were quickly piled up on the ground as the weary troopers slumped down, finally able to relax their aching bodies and taut minds.

  He felt his body begin to loosen. He was soaked from head to toe with sweat that was rapidly frosting his camouflaged khaki uniform. His waist and shoulders were sore from the straps that held the heavy combat gear fastened to his body, and his leg muscles were beginning to cramp. During the debrief, the weapons and backpacks taken from the terrorists were given to Lieutenant Nadav, the intelligence officer. The major and Lieutenant Gilad gave their versions of what happened. Questions were asked by the Northern Command chief, a brigadier general. It was mentioned that Eitan spotted the terrorists and he learned that in the village, three houses were blown up, but no accomplices were found and no prisoners were taken. In all, the successful ambush made the operation a worthwhile affair. The major informed the troops that they had indeed earned their three-day leave, but not before going back to the base to clean their weapons and gear and get reorganized.

  Two hours later, a signal was given and they headed for the trucks. Eitan had drunk three cups of coffee and eaten four sandwiches by then. He felt tired and content. As he was climbing into the back of the truck, the round plastic film receptacle fell out of his pocket, rolled on the metal floor, and disappeared among the ammunition boxes. Eitan scrambled after it, blindly searching the floor of the truck with his hands, barely managing to retrieve the elusive container. "Forgot all about this," he mumbled to himself as he climbed off the truck and went looking for the intelligence officer.

  He found him crouched over a set of maps, under a bare light bulb powered by an obn
oxious portable generator, inside the main operations tent of Forward Command. Eitan knew Lieutenant Nadav Carmon well. They were in basic training together. They both passed the trials and joined special forces, completing the grueling twenty months of training before Nadav went to Officer Training School. He injured his knee at OTS and was no longer fit for combat duty so they made him an intelligence officer.

  "This belongs to one of the terrorists," Eitan said. "It was in my pocket. I forgot all about it."

  Lieutenant Nadav briefly examined the leather wallet, then took the small round box and opened it. The roll of negatives fell into his hand.

  "This is odd," he remarked.

  Eitan watched carefully as the lieutenant straightened the negatives and put them up to the light.

  Nadav looked at him. "Where did you say you found these?"

  "In one of those backpacks," Eitan replied, pointing to the pile on the floor.

  “Ah, OK, I'm going to have these developed as soon as I get back to headquarters."

  "I thought it was kind of odd for them to be coming from the south," Eitan remarked.

  "Why?" asked the lieutenant.

  "Because according to what was said in the briefing, we were anticipating them coming from the north."

  "So?"

  "You think it was an outfit intending to cross the border?" Eitan asked.

  "A most logical explanation, I would think. They must have been on their way but doubled back when we hit the village, then ran into you," Nadav concluded, forcing a smile and patting Eitan on his back.

  There was envy in his voice, Eitan realized, reflecting on how Nadav must be feeling. After going through special-forces training, they were all eager to put their acquired skills into use. Breaking his knee meant he would never be able to experience combat or bask in the glory of those who performed the raids. He had to settle for providing intelligence reports before the raid and debriefing the troops after. His position was ancillary and he was now an outsider who would never be able to share their experiences.