A short Helicopter flight and a limousine journey later, the three Sayeret Matkal troops stood with the Premier and his family on the dockside in the navy yard in Haifa.

Sarah and the others were maintaining a less than convincing cover as guests, they knew till the yacht was out of the harbour, they were at most risk. The safety of the Premier and his family was more important than that cover for now.

Sarah plucked uncomfortably at her blouse; it was growing damp in the prickly heat. Such a dark garment was really stupid in this sun she mused. Then again, the figure hugging body armour she wore beneath it didn’t help in the slightest.

She looked across at Sergeant Goni; he looked most comfortable and relaxed in his grizzly old way. She knew the man was as on edge as she was. But his nature stopped him showing it. She almost wished for her guillie suit instead of this nasty armour.

Somehow she considered that a bush would look most out of place here in the perfect dockyard.

‘I wonder if a suitcase could make a good urban guillie?’ she giggled to herself.

As the group approached the yacht, the military guard on the gangplank stood to attention.

Once boarded, the crew made ready in rehearsed precision, and in no time, the yacht was beginning to move off from the dockside.

It was only as the luxury yacht motored lazily out of the harbour, that Sarah began to relax. “I’m going bellow to change Sergeant. I can't stand this vest.” Sarah grumbled she stood with Sergeant Goni at the stern of the Yacht.

It was a curious vessel; the sort of sleek pristine white luxury yacht that wouldn’t look out of place in the marina’s of Monaco, yet packed with more military hardware and armour than the average fighter jet. Cruises NEVER deviated from plan aboard this tub.

Heading below decks, Sarah located her cabin, and after swiping her ID card in the reader, waited for it to swish aside smoothly. All these gismos would take some getting used to, she chuckled. The base back home was circa 1970, and NOTHING was automated. She would have to make sure she could at least get coffee before having to operate anything complicated like a door.

Inside the cabin, The Prime Minister’s daughter Maritza was sat cross-legged on her bed. After looking up on Sarah’s entry, she returned to staring blankly out the window.

“Hi.” Sarah braved, wondering if the girl intended to ignore her for the whole trip.

With a shrug, she went over to her case and removed a spaghetti strap vest and shorts that she had bought in town the previous day. Slipping into the bathroom shyly, Sarah stripped the nasty armour and blouse from her boiled body and allowed her skin a moment to rest from the torture. Slipping her shorts on, she stepped out of the bathroom and went to her bed to retrieve her Glock from the handbag it currently occupied.

Slipping her firearm and its fobus holster back onto her belt in the small of her back made Sarah feel better. She felt more prepared now; less vulnerable.

“You’ve got the boobs of a 12 year old.” Maritza stated blandly.

Half dressed, Sarah turned around towards the voice, with her arms pinned above her head by the damn top she was wrestling on. “Huh?”

“You’re really flat.” Maritza repeated. “Unlucky.”

Pulling her top the rest of the way down Sarah flopped down on her bed heavily. “Yeah, so? It’s sorta a good thing, you know.”

Maritza cocked her head. “Why?”

After a moment, Sarah replied; “Well, I can wear body armour easier, it doesn’t hurt when I run as much, and I run a lot.”

“I guess, but I still like mine.” She sighed, prodding a breast lazily. “I dunno… Sorta makes me feel mature and sexy. Don’t you miss that?”

”Uh, I never really thought about it.” Sarah lied.

“Sure.” replied Maritza slowly with a frown. Sighing, the girl turned away from the window. “Look, I’m sorry I’m a bit blunt and cranky today. It's just several bad things coming together at once. Mum and Dad and this stupid fucking holiday aren’t helping either.” she grimaced.

Sarah was shocked to hear the younger girl using such language in regular communication, but she wasn’t exactly innocent herself. Maybe it’s the mother in me? She thought.

“I know what you mean Maritza. I’ve had a rough few days myself. It's…. Ah, complicated.” She sighed, “Maybe sharing your problems would help?” Sarah asked hopefully, any sort of dialogue between her and the girl would make the trip much easier on both of them.

“You actually give a shit?” Maritza asked looking surprised. “Most of Dad’s usual security people just treat me like an inconvenience.” She sighed, looking quite upset by that fact.

Sensing the girls barriers were down, Sarah pressed on; “Sure, well I’m not your dad’s regular security am I? I know in your shoes, I'd want help, but I'd just be too stubborn to ask for it.” Sarah grinned. “I bottle things up, and I hide things, thinking I can deal with it. Well someone showed me that was wrong recently. So I’m going to do the same for you.”

Moving across the cabin Sarah approached Maritza’s bed. “May I?” she asked nodding towards the bed.

“Sure, knock yourself out.” mumbled Maritza through her hair as she sat hugging her knees.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sarah reached out a hand to Maritza’s knee. Feeling the girl flinch momentarily, she wondered if she was doing the right thing; but when a pair of eyes rose above the knees, she smiled. “Tell me?” she asked softly.

“Well it’s a lot of stuff really.” sighed Maritza. "My boyfriend just left for his conscription and broke up with me.” Looking at Sarah’s raised eyebrows, she smiled weakly. “Yeah I know, it's only a year difference, but Dad would still kill me.” She moaned. “I’m sort of glad we broke up, that way Dad won't ever have to know.” She sighed. “And it’s the summer holidays! All my friends are out celebrating and partying, and I’m stuck on this fucking boat.” She grumbled.

“As if things couldn’t be worse, I came on today, too. I think someone upstairs really hates me.” She sighed.

“You came on?” Sarah asked puzzled.

”Yeah, you know…. My period?” replied Maritza with one of those American teen movie ‘Duh’ expressions.

“Oh, right.” muttered Sarah blushing. “I always just called them the time of the month.”

“You know.” Maritza said pushing herself to a free sitting position on the bed. “I think you’re right.”

”Huh?”

“Well you said talking helps. And it has, I realised I was worrying about things I can't control, and in a context that doesn’t really apply….”

”I don’t follow.” Sarah replied slowly.

“Well, I’m not exactly alone this week like I had thought. And there are plenty of cute soldiers on this boat.” Smiled Maritza.

“That’s the spirit.” grinned Sarah, pulling the younger girl into a hug. “I told you that facing things is often easier than avoiding them.”

“But alas, we have one serious matter left.” Sarah whispered conspiratorially.

“What’s that?” Maritza asked coking her head to one side. “Your period, dummy!” Giggled Sarah, I guess I won't go and get you a hot water bottle and some painkillers after all, you don’t seem to mind it.”

“Nooooo!!! PLEASE!!!!!! I hadn’t forgotten” Whined Maritza before dissolving into giggles. Maritza pulled her puppy dog eyes expression out on Sarah, finally cracking the girl’s false cold front.

Smiling, Sarah rose from the bed and headed towards the door. “I guess I could then.” She grinned, grabbing a flannel shirt from her suitcase. “Back in 10” and she darted out the door.

As she walked down the passageway she silently thanked Ari for his treating her the same way. She had needed it just as Maritza had. It took no effort, and the person always knew the answers themselves, it just took someone stopping them and telling them to think.

Reaching the galley, Sarah slipped inside after knocking on the door frame. “Hello?” she called. Nobody replied. Flipping a light switch, she went in search of the first aid kit for some paracetamol.

As she was boiling a kettle to fill the hot water bottle she had discovered in a storage cabin, she heard a noise behind her. Spinning around bottle in hand, she nearly slapped Major Thesik around the face with the rubber bottle.

“Oh god, sir, sorry, you startled me.” she apologised.

“What are you doing in here?” snapped the Major with a less than pleased expression on his face.

”I was just getting some things for Maritza.” Sarah replied with more confidence than she felt.

“Who?” glared the Major.

“The premier’s daughter?” prompted Sarah.

“Oh… the kid. Well next time ask one of the crew before you go skulking around the Yacht. I’d be watching my performance if I were you, Yakobavitch.” snarled the Major. “Not that I ever would be.” He muttered as he walked away.

Not wishing to repeat the confrontation, Sarah grabbed the items she had collected and beat a hasty retreat from the hornet’s nest. He either definitely had a problem with her, or was brushing up his head chef act, she wasn’t sure which.

After another battle with the card reader, she re-entered the cabin she shared with Maritza. The girl was in bed beneath the covers watching some mindless celebrity show on the TV. She looked fairly uncomfortable. After passing her the drugs and hot water bottle, Sarah left Maritza in peace to get some rest.

Walking back out onto the deck, Sarah pulled her sunglasses down from atop her head to deflect the glare of the midmorning sun. Resting against the railing, she began to wonder what periods must be like. Sure, she would never experience one, and part of that made her deeply sad. She would never have a baby, nor would she ever be really female. Sure the outside is nice. But one part of her mind would always know it was just window dressing. That no matter what medicine did, she would never be a true female biologically. Starting into the foamy wake of the Yacht, she silently began to cry.