Introduction

Mom never told me much about her past.

When the dust settled, and the war was over, she, along with many others from Europe, rushed to the shores of Latin America and the United States, seeking refuge from the juggernaut that trampled the Old World under it´s feet.

There were many plans concerning the Jewish question in the Third Reich, none of them good for the Jew. Some were enslaved, some were deported, most of them were killed.

Coming from Germania proper, it´s a miracle that my mother managed to escape from the center of the madness unscathed, but everytime someone mentioned these years, one could see the darkness deep within her heart as she remembered memories long time buried.

She came alone from Europe.

I can only wonder what happened with the rest of my family.

And the free world could only watch as "the japs" and the nazis carved the world for themselves.

Here in the United States, however, fear from the Japanese was stronger than from the Germans, despite the latter being much more cruel and prone do unspeakable crimes than the jap. For the asian is still not totally civilized. His tyranny and cruelty comes from the mind of people who didn´t get past the 19th century yet, still clinging to a somewhat primitive politics, like the empires of old, the Assyrians or the Huns.

I say those things but, nonetheless, the West was defeated by the Japanese civilization. They have their merits, and we have to make just for their efforts in the geopolitical playground.

This could not be said, however, for the Germans.

A nation of learned men, one of the founding stones of Western civilization, who gave us great minds in the past, now giving birth to monsters dedicated to it´s destruction.

It was said that the United States was a nation friendly to the Jewish people.

With the Holy Land now under the control of the Axis, there was no other option than to trust the rumors. "A land of plenty and wealth, of milk and honey."

Upon arriving on the East Coast along with many others, she ended up in a christian orphanage in the West, as the government made efforts to disperse evenly the influx of refugees in the country.

There she grew, surrounded by children like her, from various nations of Europe.

She married my father, a somewhat prosperous American entrepreneur, who also had a Jewish ancestry, and soon gave birth to me.

They were lovely parents, kind and tolerant.

Unlike most kids who got beaten up for doing bad things, my mother never raised her hand against me, despite I foolishly doing so sometimes, in my rebellious youth. She usually grabbed me by the arm and made me spend the entire evening listening to the reasons why I should not do this or do that.

Father didn´t scold me. He didn´t have much time because of work, but I remember him fondly.

My mother, though, spent much of her time with me, and always gave me lessons on the history of our people. She had a necessity to not let me forget that we were Jews, a people hated and persecuted through the whole world, though to be the scourge of humanity to some, but that we weren´t such a thing.

Despite growing in a christian orphanage, she remained Jewish, and met my father on the local Zionist gathering in our city.

It was a gleaming white building, with it´s details and windows painted in light blue, the flag of the Zionist movement, the star of David, flying on high alongside the Star-spangled banner on a mast placed in front of it.

Most of the Jews in the city were of German origin, so despite an effort to drop the language in favor of Hebrew, it was the one who distinguished us from the rest of the city.

There, everyday, we could hear about a new persecution or massacre against our people. Every week a new refugee would arrive on the city from some unknown part of the world. I was surprised to see one day of the so called "Beta Israel", Ethiopians of Jewish descent, who arrived from the Italian colony of Abyssinia.

Truly, our people are spread all over the world.

In a conversation with them we were surprised to learn that them we quite oblivious to the conflicts and other hardships that beset our people during these centuries of exile, living almost in a separate world until World War 2 ended.

When my childhood finally ended, I was struck by disaster, as my parents died in a car accident while coming from work. I was in school when it happened, and to my disgust, after having a hard test of math which I failed miserably, I had to hear from an uncle of my father the disastrous news.

My mind is quite blank about what happened next, probably because of the shock. My uncle said I was so shocked that I didn´t believe it at first, and when finally the truth sank into my heart, I just simply stopped, as if I was hit by the gaze of Medusa, turned to stone and immovable for almost an entire week, having to be fed by my uncle and the nurses in the hospital as I was unable to do anything.

This awakened inside me the desire to be a change for the better for the world.

I never got a bad grade on math again, and suddenly became one of the best students in my class.

The fortunes of my father were wisely administrated by my uncle until I came of age, but the ventures of a businessman weren´t for me.

As my mother taught me, I wished to teach others. My main objective when I entered University was to be a teacher, but I would always visit the Zionist center and work for it´s social projects during my free time

The strange turn of events that made me be recruited by the CIA started with a reputation I had with my colleagues, of having a good physic. I was always good at sports, and that was true even before the accident happened. This and my popularity as a beauty between the boys reached the ear of a particular agent in the city.

"My name is Sir John Hartfield."

"Sir?" I asked.

Was he British?

"Yes, indeed."

He tipped his Bowler hat and took sit on the other side of the table.

"Miss Negev, I´ve heard a lot about you." His greasy hair and somewhat old face made him look as if a classic Victorian industrialist, not to mention his formal clothing.

"I´m sorry." I raised an eyebrow as I spoke. "But I don´t know you. Could you please explain to me why you did you sent that letter?"

The cafeteria was relatively empty. The sun was beginning to set as a red light stated to came from the outside, giving the place a gloomy and comfortable "old feel", as all the furniture looked like made of wood.

The agent then threw his CIA identification on top of the table, and began to explain the details.