We'll Always Have Paris Ch. 02

This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography, which is currently not updating. Stories after Ethical Dilemmas are: We'll Always Have Paris.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 6 - Battle of Paris

I readied for the attack. As the perps came at me, the crowbar began swinging. Two switchblade knives flew away into the darkness. One man grabbed at me and was flung to one side with an Aikido move. The others stayed at bay for a second, watching and determining what I was doing. I showed them. I hurled into the attack.

*THWACK!* *CRUNCH!* *WHAP!*

I heard howls of pain as my crowbar made contact with various body parts, including one perp in the ribs. But I had one huge weakness: I could not allow them to get between me and Laura and the wounded man she was attending. The perps also realized it, and began trying to flank me. Things were about to get... bad.

"May I?"

The voice was a woman's, and I heard the scraping of iron on sidewalk as the blue crowbar was picked up. A second later I saw that same blue crowbar swinging at perps's heads and bodies, driving them back as it was expertly wielded by...

... my sister Elizabeth.

Reinforced, I swung back into the attack. As brother and sister, Elizabeth and I fought the perps savagely, crowbars whirling and perps flailing.

Six-against-two was all too easy. The perps that attacked Elizabeth found out what Aikido really was all about as their heads hit the concrete of the sidewalk. And the perps that chose to attack me found out what a crowbar beatdown really was all about. I got in some savage blows to their bodies that had hurt, and hurt very very badly.

"Let's get out of here!" one perp shouted, in English. They helped their injured comrades up and began running away. I was unable to pursue, with Laura and the victim of the attack behind me. Elizabeth did not try, either.

I turned to them. "Stab wound. Glanced off his rib, I think. It's superficial." Laura said.

The man said something, which I realized was in Russian. Laura replied in simplistic Russian, causing him to look up at her in surprise.

"Laura Fredricson?" he gasped in wonder. "The Scorpion of legend? Here? Now?"

"Yes." Laura said. "Don, help me get him up, and to the Russian Embassy." As I practically picked the man up, he saw the red crowbar.

"You..." he said, in accented English, "you are the Iron Crowbar?"

"Seems I'm becoming known in Paris." I quipped, speaking English. "And you are?"

"I am Vassily Kurchikov." the man said. "It was my brother Vladimir Kurchikov whose murder you avenged. You captured his killer, and I am grateful to you for that, as is President Putin."

"Oh, wow." I said, remembering one of my earliest cases. (Author's note: 'Case of the Murdered Chessplayer'.) I also remembered that Elizabeth had been a part of that case. I looked around, and saw my sister waiting for us, the blue crowbar still in her hand.

Elizabeth followed us as a rearguard as Laura and I put Kurchikov's arms over our shoulders and guided him to the gates of the Russian Embassy. Laura told the guard he'd been stabbed as Kurchikov presented his Russian passport to them. They said in Russian that they'd take care of him. Kurchikov thanked us profusely.

"I hope we didn't just deliver him to his death." I said.

"No, we didn't." said Laura. "He's a trusted associate of Mr. Putin. I'm curious, though, as to why he's here, in Paris, right at this time.

"I dunno." I said. "Okay, let's get my sister to the Israeli Embassy." I turned to Elizabeth and said "Je vous remercie pour votre aide, ma soeur."

"De rien, mon petit frère." Elizabeth replied as we began walking. She attempted to hand me back the blue crowbar.

"Oh, why don't you just keep that." I said. "As a souvenir of the occasion." My sister's eyes widened in surprise, and what looked like a glimmer of happiness. Laura was suppressing a grin. Yes, I had just given my dear sister Elizabeth a crowbar. It's a family thing, dontcha know...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Elizabeth led the way to the Israeli Embassy and spoke to the guards at the gate. Some of her words were likely code words, I realized. In any case, we were admitted and taken to a room, where we could (and did) wash up. They brought us some food, as well.

Elizabeth disappeared, but reappeared a half hour later. With her was the Israeli Ambassador to France.

"It is such an honor to meet you both." said the Ambassador. "We will be evacuating you from France within the next couple of hours, as part of a diplomatic group to the United Nations." He gave us papers in case we needed them, and we thanked him for his help.

"You're going with us?" I asked Elizabeth.

"Absolutely." my sister replied. "Thanks to your Jew-hating CIA Director, France is becoming a bit too warm to hold me. It's time for a little vacation."

Some moments later, when we were alone, Laura said "She can't come to America with us. She'll be arrested, if not shot on sight."

"True." I said. "I'm going to get some more food..."

Part 7 - Holy Land

Midnight, becoming Thursday, September 6th, Central European Time. We were part of a twelve-person contingent that drove in two vans to the airport. We went through security via a special route reserved for diplomats, and went aboard the El Al jet. Every seat on this place was first class.

We took off, seeing the lights of Paris beneath us, which finally faded behind us. It did not take Laura long to realize it.

"We're flying east." she said.

"Yes." I said. "After all, Israel is east of here."

"We're flying to Israel?" Laura asked, surprised. Then she thought about it. "That does make sense... but I thought the Ambassador said this was a United Nations diplomatic group."

"It is... but flying back home to Israel after a stopover in Paris." I said. "And that's why Elizabeth can be here with us." We looked over to the seat my sister was sitting in. She was already sound asleep. Very smart woman. It would not be long before I followed her example...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Beer and pizza." Cindy said. "God's gift to tired Police Officers."

"No doubt." said Teresa. They were at the Cop Bar after work this Wednesday evening, September 5th, and were sitting on the back deck. "So your father is going to Malaysia?"

"Yes, and Thailand." said Cindy. "He's taking his 'Envision Your Life' seminars there, and will follow up with Empowerment Camps and Enlightenment Camps next Spring. Pre-registrations already number in the two-thousands per seminar."

"Wow, that's great." said Teresa. "As long as nobody gets shot." She was remembering her own experience at one of Dr. Eckhart's seminars. (Author's note: 'Teresa's Christmas Ordeal'.)

"Not that I recommend the way it happened," Cindy replied, "but we did find out about your cancer and got it treated, so that's a silver lining. Anyway, 'The Vision' Headquarters will only have a skeleton staff, so I'll be there on the weekends, minding the store, taking care of the books..."

"Except one weekend, the last weekend in October." Teresa said.

"Yeah." Cindy said happily. "Can't wait for the Bulldogs to crush the Wildcats again."

"Don't count your puppies before they hatch." said Teresa. "When we were in Apple Grove, some of the Wildcats came to the ceremonies there. Don said the Wildcat Freshmen were going to surprise some people. And Jamaal Washington may be a Heisman contender this year."

"As Don says: 'time will tell'." Cindy replied.

"Speaking of Don," said Teresa, "I hope he and Laura are enjoying their mini-vacation."

Cindy didn't know if Teresa was trying to get information out of her about Don's whereabouts, or was just being polite, so she just said "I'm sure they are."

"Strange for Laura to take time right as classes at the University are beginning." Teresa said. Now Cindy was sure: Teresa was looking for information.

"No big deal." Cindy replied. "Laura's only teaching grad courses this semester, so she'll start her classes up next week."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We landed in Tel Aviv, Israel, in the early morning hours of Thursday, September 6th, and went through an expedited Customs. Elizabeth led Laura and myself into an area of the airport that was not accessible by the general public. She led us to a room, which contained a man a bit older than Laura, and his assistants.

"Dr. Fredricson, it is so good to see you again!" the man exclaimed. He came around the table to give Laura a hug, which she returned.

"Don, this is General Moshe Golan." said Laura. "he was Israel's military attaché to Germany when my first husband was stationed there. General, this is my husband, Commander Don Troy."

"Ahhhh, the Iron Crowbar." General Golan said, with a bit of awe in his voice. "Your service to our friends, from Dr. Heinz to your own sister, here, has not gone unnoticed. I am honored to welcome you to Israel."

"Thank you, General." I said as I shook his hand. "I am honored to be here." I did not need to be told that this man must be a high-ranking Mossad Officer, and that he likely had cooperated with Laura on a number of clandestine issues.

"We're making arrangements to return you to the United States." said General Golan. "While you are waiting, we've arranged a quick tour for you, as well as a surprise."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Elizabeth did not go with us as we went north towards Haifa, then cut northeast towards the Sea of Galilee. It was not a very short trip, over two hours long.

The part of the River Jordan just south of the Sea of Galilee has been kept pristine, sort of like a National Park in America. When we arrived there, there were not many people around. Tours would be here later in the day.

And I did what many tourists did: collected water from the River Jordan. As I filled and sealed some plastic bottles with river water, Laura took one picture of me on my personal iPhone. A few hours later I would send that pic in a text to Father Romano, with the message 'Bringing you River Jordan water. You can baptize Teresa with it'.

"Your mother has been badgering me about having Carole and Jim baptized, too." Laura said. "So save some of the water for that." I agreed.

The next leg of our trip was to Jerusalem. My goodness, I thought as we drove to and through it. I could feel the history of the city. I understood why it was the center point of three major religions, and centuries of wars.

Our car pulled up to a checkpoint near the Western Wall. Elizabeth and General Golan were there. He handed me a kippah, the brimless cap known as a yarmulke by most. "You may pray at the Wall if you like." the General said to me. He was also going to pray at the wall.

I put on the proper headgear and took a piece of paper and approached the Western Wall. My written prayer on it was for the US Constitution and the Jewish State of Israel to always prevail over all enemies, foreign and domestic. I've never been a religious sort, but I definitely felt the Presence of something higher as I recited my prayer and added prayers for my family, as well. I left the paper amongst many others in cracks along the wall.

Unknown to me, as they waited for me Laura whispered to Elizabeth: "There is something we need to discuss. I need your help..." Elizabeth nodded as Laura continued talking...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was afternoon as we were driven onto a military base, with General Golan getting us through easily. We did not stop until we arrived at a hanger near the runway.

"I understand that you were a Paratrooper in the American Forces." said the General as we got out of the car.

"Yes, General, I was." I said.

"Then you will enjoy what we have arranged for you." said the General. We made our way into the hangar, which was full of Israeli soldiers.

"Have you ever heard of the 55th Paratroopers Brigade, Commander Troy?" asked General Golan.

I gasped, and said, "Yes sir! They're now a Reserve unit, but they were the first to enter the Old City of Jerusalem in the Six Day War in 1967, and the first to cross the Suez Canal in the 1973 Yom Kippur War."

"Ah, you know our history." said the General. An Israeli Colonel came up to us, saluted the General, then turned to me. He introduced himself (I'm not allowed to mention his name here), and said "This is a battalion of the 55th Paratroopers Brigade, making our required periodic jump. Would you like to jump with us?"

I think my eyes must've bugged out of my head like in cartoons, as both the Colonel and the General grinned at my reaction. "Yes, I'd love to jump with you!" I said.

"I'll be talking with the General." Laura said, a bit of a twinkle in her eye. "Enjoy your jump. If you break your back, you're S-O-L with me."

"What bad back?" I asked. I was not going to let my back stop me from jumping with the Israeli 55th Paratrooper Brigade!

My black clothing was sufficient for jumping, but I was issued a pair of reddish-brown boots, which was worn by the honored Parachutists of the 55th, and given a military helmet to wear. The Colonel introduced me as 'an American Paratrooper who will be joining our jump today', and I went through the line with the rest of them as we put on our parachutes and reserves, and were checked out by the jumpmasters.

A moment later, someone else came out, wearing an Israeli military uniform and a head scarf that covered her lower face. For a second I was shocked as I realized it was Elizabeth.

And then I understood. Completely.

"Yes, mon petit frère." she said. "This is part of my training. I've accepted Israeli citizenship, which was easy when I showed them our maternal bloodline. And I've joined the Mossad."

"Hoo boy." I said.

"Oh, don't worry, baby brother." Elizabeth reassured me, knowing what I was thinking. "I've renounced my American citizenship, so there's no treason to accuse me of. I guess if I'm captured, I'll get the 'Jonathan Pollard' treatment. But they'll have to capture me first."

"Let's hope we don't have to find out what would happen if they did." I replied.

The Colonel came up "Commander Troy, would you like to stand in the door for this jump?" That meant I'd be first to jump out.

"No sir." I said, then pointed at Elizabeth and added with a wicked grin: "I want to watch her stand in the door." My sister smirked at me.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As we bounced around in the C-130J Hercules turbo-prop aircraft in the late afternoon, I thought we'd be jumping somewhere nearby. But we flew straight, and southeast. And for a longer time than I'd expected.

The jumpmasters began giving the commands, and we all stood up, checked our equipment and our static lines, then shuffled to the door. Elizabeth stood in the door with her hands pressed against the side, and she showed no fear. Then the green light on the side of the door lit.

"GO!" yelled the jumpmaster, slapping Elizabeth on her curvy bottom. I looked my static line into his hands, then turned and jumped out the door. I looked up, relieved to see camo green and not international sky blue; my chute had deployed. I felt the rush of adrenaline, as I always did when jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft while in flight. And knowing this might be my last jump ever, I made sure to be aware of every sensation.

I saw the Dead Sea in the near distance, then turned to my right and got a shock to my system as I recognized where we were. It was Massada, one of Israel's most well-known and revered places.

We're at Massada! I thought to myself excitedly. This was definitely a bucket list item of mine.

We were going to land near the base of the mountain. The Dead Sea is the lowest depression of land on the face of the earth, over 400 feet below sea level. The arid land was fairly soft, and I kept my feet and knees together like a good Paratrooper should as I pulled the risers to my chest for the landing. I executed a dynamite parachute landing fall, then pulled on the release to unbuckle a riser so that the chute would not drag me along the ground.

And then I got up and began collecting the chute. I was walking; my back had not broken. It did remind me that it was never going to be 100% again, but since I had not executed the 'Russian Airborne' landing (feet, ass, and head), landing sideways and being in good enough shape for my legs and rear end to take the brunt of it, I was just fine.

I ran with my gear to where everyone else was running. After turning in the gear and my helmet, one of General Golan's aides appeared and led me to where the General and Laura were waiting for us. Elizabeth came up a moment later, her scarf still covering most of her face.

We boarded the chopper and were taken to the top of Massada. We landed and got out, and began looking around.

"This is... this has always been a dream of mine, to see Massada." I said to Laura.

"Yes, I know." she replied. "Did we surprise you?"

"Did you ever!" I said. "Thank you, my love." I was looking out among the ruins of the old fortifications, the sun low in the west, the Dead Sea visible in the distance below.

And then it hit me.

I'd never felt quite this way before. It felt like hundreds of souls were calling out to me, crowding my consciousness. Things became vivid, almost surrealistic. It felt not unlike those moments at the tea ceremony following my helicopter crash. (Author's note: 'A Tiny Slip', Ch. 03.)

I felt myself going to my knees, deep in a trance-like state, deeper than a reverie, as if I was not a part of myself. "It was here." I said, not realizing my voice was carrying. "It was here. I feel them. The 960 souls who died here."

Elizabeth was watching me intently, and Laura and others were behind me as my voice continued, not my voice but the unified voice of those souls: "In 73 A.D., they barricaded themselves here. The Romans built a ramp to bring a ram up to knock down the doors. On the night before they were to break in, the Jews here chose death before dishonor. They all killed themselves... or each other, as Jewish law prohibited suicide. Only an old woman and some children lived to tell their story."

"They died, rather than live to face derision and humiliation at the hands of the Enemy." I said. "But I can hear their souls now..."

I began coming out of it. I stood up and looked around, having a special clarity of vision and hearing. Elizabeth was continuing to peer at me. "A true gift from the Most High, to hear the honored Dead at this place." she said. I could only nod slowly in agreement.

As the sun was setting, I saw that soldiers were coming up the Snake Trail. Other soldiers were setting up torches. And my heart sang when I saw them putting up the pieces of wood in the shapes of Hebrew letters.

The soldiers were trainees of the Armored Corps, and this was their graduation. As it began, Elizabeth and I were placed up front, and General Golan pinned Israeli Airborne wings on our shirts. American jump wings curl up around the parachute in the middle; the Israeli ones extend straight out left and right from said centered parachute. I was also handed a certificate that would translate to say I was now Israeli Airborne-qualified.