A Spy in Exile

BERLIN, MARCH 2015

After two and a half hours of debriefing, everyone took a break. The cadets milled around the coffee machine, and Helena motioned to Ya’ara that she’d like to speak to her.

“So let’s talk,” Ya’ara said to her.

“No,” Helena responded. “Not here. Let’s talk in your office, if possible.”

Ya’ara, out of habit, settled into the chair behind her desk, but Helena remained on her feet. She was standing there wonderfully upright, and something about her posture reminded Ya’ara of a Roman soldier. And there was something else there, something she couldn’t quite put into words for herself. She invited her to take a seat, but Helena said she’d rather stand. They both looked at Ya’ara’s bare desk, which was completely devoid of any picture, any item of a personal nature. Ya’ara folded her arms in front of her, and Helena thought for a moment that they, too, appeared to be props, just like the desk. In some way, it made things easier. Helena shared Ya’ara’s penchant for privacy.

“I don’t think I can continue,” Helena said.

“Has something happened?”

“It’s something to do with me.”

“Is it because of what happened with the girl in London?”

“You brushed over it very quickly during the debriefing, didn’t you?” Helena asked, lifting her chin a little. Here we go, the debriefing isn’t over just yet, Ya’ara thought to herself. She calmly repeated what she had said to the cadets just an hour earlier. “You know as well as I do that it was an accident,” she said. “And accidents happen.”

A tense silence fell over the room. Helena was the first to break it. “In any event,” she said, “I’ve already told you. It’s something personal, unrelated to the course.”

“You know,” Ya’ara responded, “I have to admit I’m disappointed. I expected more of you. I saw more in you. To tell you the truth, I saw myself in you at your age.” Only after voicing the words did Ya’ara realize that she wasn’t trying to be manipulative, she was speaking the truth. Helena reminded her of herself; they shared that same sense of detachment from the crowd.

Helena replied quickly. “I don’t think we’re alike,” she said.

Ya’ara ignored her last statement. She stood up from her chair and approached her cadet. “I need you to know that you’re truly excellent,” she said. “You’ll be a great combatant. But only if you want it. No one’s going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. And no one can. And if you need help with anything, tell me. I suggest we take a look at what’s bothering you. And then we’ll see if there’s something we can do about it. We’ll break down this whole thing, whatever it may be, into small pieces, and we’ll see how we can deal with them one by one.”

“It’s nice of you to say we’ll see, we’ll break down, and we’ll understand. But I’m not so sure that it’s a matter for the two of us. It’s first and foremost my issue. Something I need to figure out. I may be able to share it with you. But first I need to understand what I’m feeling.”

Ya’ara realized that the conversation was over. Strange, she thought, that at the end of it all, Helena had remained a sealed box, whereas she, Ya’ara, who had faced far more complex situations than a talk to clear the air with a closed and stubborn cadet, had found herself at a disadvantage. Yes, she could have made her continue, but didn’t want to do it like that; that wasn’t the way to go about it. It’s a job you’re married to, that you breathe, that you go to sleep and wake with. If Helena wasn’t the person she thought she was, there was no point in trying to persuade her. And if she was that person, she needed to come back of her own accord.

• • •

The first day of debriefings came to an end only when evening fell. Everyone felt spent. The intensity of the discussions drained them of energy. With hindsight they knew how they could have planned better, operated safer, caused less collateral damage, an ugly word for killing an innocent young girl. But one never has the benefit of hindsight when things are happening so fast, sometimes at the speed of a bullet. They would do better next time. They had done quite well this time. They were tired but content.

Ann approached Helena, who was lingering at the door. “Should we go get something to eat?” she asked, her hand touching Helena’s for a moment. “Feel like it?”

“More than anything else,” Helena said, her tone more serious than Ann’s. “And besides, I don’t know when we’ll have another opportunity.” They walked side by side down the wide steps of the old, elegant building, which was built at the beginning of the twentieth century and somehow had survived the war. “It hurts me to say good-bye to you like this,” Helena said simply.

“Maybe we don’t have to say good-bye.”

“You’re more naïve than I thought,” Helena said with a pained smile. She didn’t say a word about Daniel, Ann’s husband. There was no need to. They had already guessed each other’s thoughts, and Helena knew that her feelings didn’t match those of Ann. She felt that for the first time in her life she was exactly where she was meant to be, with the woman she needed to be with. But for that same reason, in fact, she had to leave and walk away.

The cold mercilessly penetrated their open coats, and they both quickly tightened the scarves around their necks.

“This is fun,” Ann said simply. “I’m happy when I’m with you.” She linked arms with Helena.

Helena tried to tone down her feelings. She also wanted to say she was having fun and felt good. She tried a different approach. “You know,” she said, “perhaps we’re taking advantage of the fact that we’ve disappeared from our real world, and in the bubble in which we’ve been living for the past few months we’ve allowed ourselves to experiment . . .”

“Is that what you think?” Ann asked, her beautiful eyes wide-open and gazing at Helena, who whispered to herself to be brave. She couldn’t expose her true feelings to her. She knew she’d panic, she’d recoil. For Ann, this was all a game, nothing more. And very soon, each of them would return to their real lives. It’s better to walk away than to have someone walk away from you, she thought, reiterating what her mother had told her again and again. And that’s exactly what she intended to do.

“Of course it’s experimenting, sweetheart,” Helena said to Ann in a calm tone. “You’re the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. And it could never have happened in any other way in my life. It’s not the kind of thing that happens in the mapped-out life of a Russian girl destined for greatness. It could only have happened here. And here it will remain, too.”

They made their way along the Ku’damm, the main street of the western part of Berlin, up close to each other, indifferent to the hordes of people pacing briskly all around them.

“The most exciting thing that’s happened to you is this course, not me,” Ann responded. “I don’t even want to think about what would happen if you were forced to choose between this work and me.” She smiled weakly at Helena. And Helena didn’t tell her that she had already made her choice, that she had chosen her, the lovely and enchanting Ann, and that’s exactly why she was leaving her.

When they were sitting together at the small restaurant, too, allowing themselves to hold hands, Helena continued to try to maintain her relaxed façade, but a voice in her head kept telling her softly to remember every detail because this was the last time they’d be sitting together like this, the last time she would be seeing Ann just inches away from her, breathing her in. And maybe it was the last time, too, that she’d be a part of the team, under the command of Ya’ara, who had both angered and amazed her, a part of the calling that had fulfilled her wildest and most daring dreams. The pain of parting burned inside her, but she smiled at Ann and turned her attention to the smell of flowers that hung in the restaurant air. At that exact moment, they both thought of springtime.

• • •

Ya’ara turned out the lights in the production office and locked the door behind her. Helena and Ann were long gone, but Ya’ara could still sense the electrical pulses that lingered in the narrow space that had separated them. She was concerned. She felt as if she had allowed Helena to slip through her fingers, but she didn’t know how to stop her or whether to do so at all. She didn’t have answers regarding her. She wanted to be with Aslan, but he had disappeared on her and she didn’t call him. It wouldn’t be good for him to think she needed him. She was alone, and she’d be wise to get used to it. She walked down the wide stairs and vanished into the darkness.