A Spy in Exile by Jonathan de Shalit

Author:Jonathan de Shalit
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books

41

FRANKFURT, JANUARY 2015

She didn’t like Frankfurt. Germany had beautiful and pleasing cities, but Frankfurt couldn’t be counted among them. For her, the city always aroused a sense of distaste. The filth and violence of the central train station area, the wretchedness of the sex district, the luxury stores fortified by security guards, bars, and heavy locks, the skyscrapers that had made the city more American than any other German metropolis. She was familiar, too, of course, with the city’s redeeming features. The museums along the wide river, the old city, Fressgass—the culinary main street leading away from the stock exchange in the central business district, and the area around the university, bubbling with beautiful young people and their serious and optimistic energy of activism. But more than anything else, at the end of every visit to Frankfurt, a city that could have been a real diamond but somehow missed its opportunity, she felt a strong need for a long, hot shower.

Ya’ara arrived in Frankfurt this time in the late evening, on the fast train from Berlin.

He was waiting for her at bar of the Frankfurter Hof Hotel. A silent waiter relieved her of her long coat the moment she walked in. She was at her best that evening, statuesque, in high heels, her blue dress clinging to her body, two pearl earrings gleaming in her ears, her fair hair appearing even paler under the dim lights of the bar. There wasn’t a single man in the shadowy expanse who failed to sense her presence. She never changes, the man waiting for her in the far corner of the room whispered to himself. Breathtaking and a danger on two legs. He rose from the deep leather armchair in which he was sitting as she approached, and she shook his hand formally, and then, abruptly shaking off the formality, she kissed both his cheeks. Goran Petrovich was a tall, strong man. His hair was graying, his blue eyes were cold and piercing, a white scar cut across his face from just below his right eye and down to his chin. A rare smile was the only thing that upset the menacing impression he made. He wasn’t smiling now.

Ya’ara had met him for the first time a few years after the end of the civil war that had left Yugoslavia ripped to bleeding shreds. She and her team were operating in the Balkans at the time. Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps, the exporters of Tehran’s terror and fanaticism, wasn’t about to forgo any potential stronghold, and the Iranians viewed Muslim Bosnia, which had emerged from the war scarred and bleeding, as easy pickings. Ya’ara’s squad teamed up back then with international forces that had been deployed to expose the Iranian activity, and to sabotage and thwart it. That’s the way it goes in war, she drummed into her cadets. It’s a fight for every inch. A relentless battle. Matthias had been the one to hook her up with Goran, a tough and ruthless Serb

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