The Mission

Chapter 1

Taking the piece of thick paper with your name on it, you placed it into the time clock, waiting for it to stamp the time. As the stamp was made, you pulled your card out and placed it with the rest; it was time for another day at the diner.

Six months you had been here and you actually quite enjoyed the small diner in the heart of Jerusalem; it was where you had grown up.

Both of your parents were Jewish America and after they got married, decided to move to Jerusalem where they both got jobs working at the American Embassy. Without a doubt, you loved growing up here; it's where you felt like you belonged, with all your ancestors and so much history about your religion.

"Table nine," Denise, your co-worker said to you as she rushed by you with a tray of food. Giving her a smile, you nodded and headed towards the table. Upon walking up, the man's back was facing you but he had luscious brown locks nearly down to his neck and you already found it a turn on. It had been too long since you'd had a man between your legs and you already were fantasizing about running your fingers through his thick locks.

"Good morning," you greeted the man with a smile and a chipper voice; your eyes never leaving your small workbook to take orders. "What can I get you?"

There was silence and that's when you decided to look from your workbook to gaze into the eyes of the man in front of you. He nearly took your breath away as you were mesmerized by the baby blue of his orbs; but it was nothing compared to his dazzling white smile; his smiled coated by a trimmed yet thick beard. Now you were fantasizing even more; wanting to know what that beard would feel like between your legs. Get a grip on yourself Y/N you mentally spoke to yourself.

"Hello Y/N," came his smooth velvety voice. "You're a hard person to track down, even for being here in the heart of Jerusalem."

You had to do a double take, wonder what he was talking about. With furrowed brows, you answered back, "I'm-I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

Raising his right arm, his fingers brushed through his long smooth hair. "Not personally. But I know a lot about you." Your heart skipped a beat, thoughts of your past coming back to you. "I work with Ethan Levin with the Mossad. I'm putting together a small team and he's talked highly of you, saying you would be a great fit for this mission."

Placing a hand on the table, you had to catch your breath. You had known Ethan for years, ever since you were eighteen. He had tried to recruit you for the Mossad for the longest time and you finally gave in. After joining the Peace Corps when you were 18, you took a bit of a break and worked for Ethan doing some undercover work before heading back to the Peace Corps.

"Are you alright?" the man stood up, placing a hand on your shoulder as you steadied your breathing.

"Umm, yeah, I'll be ok," you muttered out, moving to sit in the seat opposite of him. He sat back down, yet still had a worried look to his face.

His hand came up to scratch at his beard before placing his cup of water in front of you. "Here, have some water." Gripping the water glass with shaky hands, you took a few deep sips. The water felt divine on your now parched throat, memories of Deborah and your time in the Peace Corps coming back to you. "Better?" You nodded, placing the glass back onto the table. "So this mission...," he began to start again but you cut him off.

"I'm not interested." Glancing upwards, you saw the defeat in his eyes at your words.

He sighed deeply, playing with the edge of the menu on the table. "I haven't even told you what it's about."

Chewing nervously on your lip, your mind began to race. This man, whom you didn't even know but apparently knew a lot about you, wanted you to join a secret mission and you had already flat out refused. It was your past that was haunting you, keeping you at bay. "I just-I just don't think I'm ready for any kind of mission yet," you spoke truthfully. "Has Ethan told you about what happened? What I've endured?"

He blew out a breath and you could see his jaw clenching. "Not any details. He just said you would probably deny my invitation and that you've had a rough past year in the Peace Corps."

You nodded, eyes gazing down at the table as you kept your tears at bay. "Look," you spoke, turning to face him with glossy eyes, "I'm sure your mission is important and all. But I honestly don't think I'm ready to jump into anything drastic quite yet. I'm really sorry."

His face softened as he took in your expression, nodding. "Hey, I get it. Things get rough out there. I don't blame you. But if you want," he paused, grabbing his wallet and taking out card, placing it down on the table, "give Ethan a call. He'll tell you all about the mission. I'm heading out in a week and if you change your mind, Ethan will help you with the travel." He stood up from the booth and you didn't dare make eye contact with him; afraid that you would lose your willpower and break down. "Thank you for your time Y/N." He placed a ten dollar bill on the table and you lifted your eyes, only to see him walk away.

That day at work, it felt like the card he had given you was burning a hole in your pocket. Every free chance you got, you debated with yourself on whether you should go to Ethan and talk to him about this mission. But you were at a loss; the tug of war happening in your mind not making it any easier.

By the time you got off work, you decided to sleep on the decision. You had tomorrow off work and you would decide by morning if you were going to call up Ethan and meet up with him or not.

As you lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling and gripping the thick paper card in your hand, your mind and heart battled with one another. Your mind told you that you just weren't ready for any kind of mission, but your heart was telling you that you could possibly be saving and helping lives.

Closing your eyes, you wished for sleep to come, but all you could hear were the rippling screams of your best friend Deborah. You had met her during your training for the Peace Corps; the two of you bonding instantly. Neither of you were stationed together at first. You had spent your first few years in the Peace Corps in Seirra Leone, teaching children English and other languages. That was your specialty, multilingual, among other things. Then you went to work for Ethan with the Mossad for nearly three years. Once you decided to go back to the Peace Corps, you found yourself stationed in Tonga, along with Deborah. The first two years there were amazing, but the happiness of being with your new best friend didn't last forever. She was murdered in cold blood, a few houses down from yours. It had only been a year, but you still couldn't get her screams out of your head.

No matter how hard you tried, sleep never came that night and you were up and ready to go at dawn. With a trembling hand, you picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card, hoping he was already in the office.

"Hello?" a voice sounded from the other end of the line.

Taking a deep breath, you answered back. "Ethan? It's me, Y/N."