Sylvia Rafael: The Life and Death of a Mossad Spy

3 Night in an Arab Village

35 3 Night in an Arab Village It was evening in late October 1962. The summer heat had passed, and there was a light chill of early autumn in the air. Sylvia was in bed reading The Jewish Wars by Josephus Flavius.1 After a tiring day at school, she had decided to read a chapter or two before falling asleep. Suddenly the phone rang. Someone she didn’t know apologized ฀for฀the฀late฀hour,฀introducing฀himself฀as฀“Gadi,”฀a฀representative of a government agency looking for employees. He asked if she was prepared to meet with him. “I have an interesting offer for you,” he said. Sylvia didn’t conceal her surprise. “Who told you that I was looking for work?” she asked. “Friends of yours,” was the man’s cryptic answer. “I thought you might be suitable for this position, and I would like to tell you about it.” “What kind of a position is it?” she asked. “I can’t discuss it over the phone. Are you free tomorrow morning?” “I teach in the morning.” They arranged to meet in the afternoon after Sylvia finished work, at Café Hadley on Judah Halevi Street in Tel Aviv. Gadi, whose real name was Moti Kfir, the commander of Unit 188’s School for Special Operations, was waiting for Sylvia at the rear of the café at the appointed time, at a table for two a bit isolated from the other tables. Sylvia entered the café, took a quick glance around, and immediately approached him, guessing that he was the man who had invited her to meet with him. He shook her hand, and she confidently returned his firm handshake. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Gadi. What will you have to drink?” Sylvia asked for coffee. Gadi wanted to make it clear that their conversation must remain confidential, but was worried that Sylvia might be alarmed by฀the฀mystery฀surrounding฀the฀job฀he฀was฀about฀to฀offer฀her.฀So฀ 36 SYLVIA RAFAEL he softened this by saying, “Whatever is said here must remain between us.” Sylvia looked at him questioningly. “If it’s supposed to remain between us, why are we meeting in a café?” she inquired in Hebrew. Gadi didn’t think it appropriate to reveal to her that no candidate for a secret assignment in Israel or elsewhere was ever invited to the central headquarters, whose location was known to very few people. “Acafé is an excellent meeting place because of the noise,” he explained unconvincingly. “In this racket nobody can hear what we’re saying.” “You฀wanted฀to฀offer฀me฀a฀job,”฀she฀reminded฀him. “I would like to ask you a few questions first, if you don’t mind.” “Go ahead.” He asked her about her family background, what had impelled her to immigrate to Israel, her activities in the present and her plans for the future, her roommate in the rented flat in Tel Aviv, what she did in her spare time. She answered quickly and easily, frankly, and with humor. “How satisfied are you with your life? Give it a mark from one to ten,” requested Gadi. “I would say about eight. I work as a teacher. It’s interesting, but I’m sure that I have the ability to accomplish much more.” “What would you like to do?” “Something more interesting, more challenging.” “For example?” “For example, enlisting in the army,” she replied, eyes shining. “What’s stopping you?” “I’m too old, and apart from that my mother is Christian, so according to Jewish law I’m not really Jewish. So even though I feel Jewish, I don’t think they’ll recruit me into the army.” “I can’t help you get recruited into the army,” said Gadi, “but I can฀try฀and฀find฀you฀a฀job฀in฀security.” “Whom exactly do you represent?” Sylvia inquired. Her direct gaze฀studied฀the฀man฀across฀the฀table฀carefully. “I represent a government body that works in affiliation with the Department of Security.” “Could฀you฀explain฀exactly฀what฀kind฀of฀a฀job฀you’re฀offering฀ me?” Night in an Arab Village 37 “Not at this stage. First you will have to undergo tests and examinations , so that we can be sure that you are suitable. Only then can we discuss what you would actually do.” “At least give me some idea of what you’re offering,” she implored him. Not many...