I knew what the personal consequences would be; once identified, I could not soon again, or maybe ever, participate in clandestine operations. I would have to spend the rest of my working life pushing papers at Mossad headquarters as a researcher and analyst while watching others triumph. I couldn't stand the thought of playing second fiddle, and being out of field operations meant I wouldn't even be in the orchestra.
Even within a glorious entity, there are many unimportant ants working to give the queen her glory. Now that my cover had been blown, I would have to become one of those ants permanently. I had to make a change. I wanted to become royalty elsewhere.
My decision to leave was met with surprise. Service in the Mossad is considered a lifetime career, not a single line, however distinguished, in a long resume.
I applied to Israel's toughest law school, at Tel Aviv University. That changed the course of my life, ushering me into a new profession and a new country and, ironically, as my lunch with Benny revealed, bringing me back years later into contact with the Mossad.
I paid for the tea and the energy bar that looked like compost and tasted no better, took the envelope Benny had given me, and left the cafeteria on my way back to my hotel on Tel Aviv beach overlooking the old Mediterranean port of Jaffa, half a mile away. Sitting at the desk in my twelfth-floor room, I opened the envelope. It contained photocopies of documents. The first document I saw was obviously an application form. The top portion of the document was cut off. I guessed it was Peled's application to the Mossad. His bio details matched what I already knew abouthim, but there was something else that attracted my immediate attention. He had a wife in Israel. Dov Peled had married one Mina Lerer. That was a surprise, since all I knew of DeLouise so far was that he had a wife and son in California. There was only an indication of his Israeli wife's date of birth, April 6,1930, in Romania, and her Israeli ID number. The treasures are always buried in the minute, seemingly unimportant details.
Where was Mina Lerer now? I picked up the phone and called Ralph Lampert at his home in Tel Aviv. Ralph was a private investigator who had spent many years working in the Shin Bet. I'd met him on a joint operation before I left the Mossad. In those earlier years, operations on Mossad targets carried out within Israel were always in cooperation with the Shin Bet.
Ralph was the classic ordinary person. You could pass him by a thousand times and never pay him any mind; he looked like your neighborhood butcher or dry cleaner. He was that other guy sitting next to you on the train, on the bus, on the plane, the guy you never really noticed — a definite asset in his line of work. After leaving the Shin Bet, Ralph continued doing the only thing he knew how to do: private investigations, this time for insurance companies or suspicious wives or husbands. If there was something you needed to know in Israel, he could get it for you.
What I wanted from Ralph was simple: Mina Lerer. He agreed to come over to the hotel later in the afternoon.
I pulled out the second document pertaining to Peled. It was the standard Mossad employee evaluation sheet; every employee was judged on his personality, his attitude toward his coworkers, his traits, and his success in his work. Finally there was a recommendation concerning the employee's future in the Mossad's
maslul kidum
(Hebrew for “track of advancement”). A special section was devoted to a personal interview with the employee and the supervisor's impression of how the employee saw himself, his future in the organization, and his ability to take criticism. I could tell by looking at the handwriting that throughout the four-year period, the form had been filled in by two or three different individuals.
As reflected in his supervisors’ evaluations, Peled's personality came through loud and clear: intelligent,
Even within a glorious entity, there are many unimportant ants working to give the queen her glory. Now that my cover had been blown, I would have to become one of those ants permanently. I had to make a change. I wanted to become royalty elsewhere.
My decision to leave was met with surprise. Service in the Mossad is considered a lifetime career, not a single line, however distinguished, in a long resume.
I applied to Israel's toughest law school, at Tel Aviv University. That changed the course of my life, ushering me into a new profession and a new country and, ironically, as my lunch with Benny revealed, bringing me back years later into contact with the Mossad.
I paid for the tea and the energy bar that looked like compost and tasted no better, took the envelope Benny had given me, and left the cafeteria on my way back to my hotel on Tel Aviv beach overlooking the old Mediterranean port of Jaffa, half a mile away. Sitting at the desk in my twelfth-floor room, I opened the envelope. It contained photocopies of documents. The first document I saw was obviously an application form. The top portion of the document was cut off. I guessed it was Peled's application to the Mossad. His bio details matched what I already knew abouthim, but there was something else that attracted my immediate attention. He had a wife in Israel. Dov Peled had married one Mina Lerer. That was a surprise, since all I knew of DeLouise so far was that he had a wife and son in California. There was only an indication of his Israeli wife's date of birth, April 6,1930, in Romania, and her Israeli ID number. The treasures are always buried in the minute, seemingly unimportant details.
Where was Mina Lerer now? I picked up the phone and called Ralph Lampert at his home in Tel Aviv. Ralph was a private investigator who had spent many years working in the Shin Bet. I'd met him on a joint operation before I left the Mossad. In those earlier years, operations on Mossad targets carried out within Israel were always in cooperation with the Shin Bet.
Ralph was the classic ordinary person. You could pass him by a thousand times and never pay him any mind; he looked like your neighborhood butcher or dry cleaner. He was that other guy sitting next to you on the train, on the bus, on the plane, the guy you never really noticed — a definite asset in his line of work. After leaving the Shin Bet, Ralph continued doing the only thing he knew how to do: private investigations, this time for insurance companies or suspicious wives or husbands. If there was something you needed to know in Israel, he could get it for you.
What I wanted from Ralph was simple: Mina Lerer. He agreed to come over to the hotel later in the afternoon.
I pulled out the second document pertaining to Peled. It was the standard Mossad employee evaluation sheet; every employee was judged on his personality, his attitude toward his coworkers, his traits, and his success in his work. Finally there was a recommendation concerning the employee's future in the Mossad's
maslul kidum
(Hebrew for “track of advancement”). A special section was devoted to a personal interview with the employee and the supervisor's impression of how the employee saw himself, his future in the organization, and his ability to take criticism. I could tell by looking at the handwriting that throughout the four-year period, the form had been filled in by two or three different individuals.
As reflected in his supervisors’ evaluations, Peled's personality came through loud and clear: intelligent,
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