Chapter 8 — A series of discrepancies.

“I’m so sorry sir, it won’t happen again.” Sarah said snapping to attention.

“Nonsense child, I don’t expect you to stand so rigidly to protocol during this trip, you are all after all, attending as ‘guests’. The Premier smiled. “Now I expect no more of that silly saluting or ill throw you off my boat.” The old man chuckled.

Relaxing, the three soldiers waited for Prime Minister Zimann to speak.

Sarah studied the old man’s face; it was warm and kind, grandfatherly… He somehow didn’t seem the hard faced old soldier that led their country so strongly. Being in his presence made her feel warm and relaxed; almost protected... Did he have this effect on his political compatriots?

“Now I insist that you call me Ben, ok? Any of this ‘Prime Minister’ Rubbish and I shall be cross ok?” Mr Zimann smiled.

“Yes sir, I mean Ben.” Replied Sgt Goni curtly. “Where would you like us to stow our gear?”

”One of the security men will show you to your rooms, and I would much appreciate it if you could join me for dinner shortly?”

Thanking the Premier, the 3 troopers left the grandfatherly statesman and made their way upstairs behind their security service guide.

Once they had refreshed themselves, the 3 met outside their rooms before heading downstairs. All three felt strange about they were being treated; as if they actually were guests, not bodyguards. This didn’t fit with how they normally operated undercover; it was almost as if they WERE going on holiday with the Prime Minister. Despite this, all 3 carried their service weapons on their person.

It felt strangest of all for Sarah. She was still getting used to having her sidearm in the black Gucci bag of Mira’s over her shoulder, the dress she wore left her no space for a throwaway, and her knife was also in the bag. Vulnerable didn’t begin to describe it.

Entering the dining room of the residence, the soldiers joined the Premier, his wife, and his teenage children. Once the entrée was served, the awkward silence of the room was broken by the Premier’s wife.

Sharon Zimann was a short elegant woman; her body language suggested that she had grown up in the higher circles of Israel. Her appearance was immaculate; her brunette hair in a perfect short bob and simple rimless glasses framing her lightly made up eyes, she oozed class without trying.

“I’m frightfully sorry, my dear.” she said, looking at Sarah. “I had been told that the three soldiers they were sending were all men. I had made arrangements for you to all bunk together on the yacht…” She continued, with a mixed air of question and apology.

“Mrs Zimann, it's not a problem, they are my friends, bunking with them shall not be a problem. There was a recent, ah, change of plan, to the personnel list…” Sarah trailed off.

“Corporal Yakobavitch is used to operating with male soldiers in the field ma’am. We are…. Housebroken?” chuckled Sgt Goni.

“Nonsense, unless she protests it specifically, I’d like to make arrangements for you to share a berth with my daughter, Corporal. She usually turns the other bed into a horizontal wardrobe, I’m sure she will cope with some company. I won’t have a woman inconvenienced by ogling male eyes, intentional or not, I know your sex, Sergeant…” smiled Mrs Zimann wagging a finger playfully.

Half choking on a slice of cucumber, Sarah regained her composure and replied; “Ma’am that’s not necessary, honestly, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Hush dear; I’m sure Maritza would love some company near her age? Wouldn’t you dear? She can’t hang around with her mother all this time, I’ll cramp her style.” Mrs Zimann chuckled.

Smiling politely, Maritza nodded before returning to her salad. Sarah got the idea that her mother regularly dropped such situations on the teen. This might be a long trip after all she sighed inwardly.

“If I recall correctly, Ben Zimann mused, there was another Corporal Yakobavitch listed on the original troop manifest. Or am I confused in my old age?”

Sarah turned red. This might get ugly she realised, bracing herself for imminent outing.

“Her brother Sir,” Thomas answered through a mouth full of prawn. Swallowing, he continued; “Her brother got sick, and he couldn’t go, she was available and took his place on the team, we had considered that maybe nobody would notice the manifest change…. “

”Brother and sister both members of Sayeret Matkal?” exclaimed the Premier; his eyebrows rising. “Your parents must be proud my dear, especially their beautiful daughter serving her country along side some of the finest men in our army.”

“Ah, um, yeah, I guess they are.” muttered Sarah, suddenly very interested in her wine.

“That’s not true Sir,” Piped up Thomas once more, “Her brother is the better looking one.”

Forgetting her company Sarah kicked Mathew’s shin under the table; an action that was not missed by the Premier’s son.

“Hey dad why can she get away with it? You ground me if I kick Maritza!”

”Mark, I will have none of this now…. We have company.” hissed the Premier. Sighing, he drained his wine glass. “It will be nice to have more children around the place.” a sly grin on his lips.

“Sir I’m sorry, I forgot myself. It was unprofessional.” Sarah apologised.

“What have I said about calling me sir? It makes me feel old.” Ben chuckled. “Anyway, would you not kick him out of my presence?”

Sarah’s blush answered his question. “You are here as guests, acting like those boring old farts in my secret service will only alert people to your presence. Being living members of your unit tells me that you can do your jobs…. Anyway, friendly violence never hurt anyone.”

”Yeah, tell that to my shin.” grimaced Thomas.

After their meal, the group retired to the patio outside the residence. Whilst the Premier and his wife continued to drink the fine wine that appeared practically on tap, the 3 troopers refused further alcohol out of professional duty, despite being in the safest place in Israel outside of Colonel Mathias’ underwear.

Sarah’s mind drifted off to the image of performing a threat assessment of Benyamin the paramedic’s underwear, a thought that caused her to blush furiously.

Looking up, she caught the eyes of the Premier’s wife, renewing her blush.

As the discussion turned to military matters, Mrs Zimann sighed and rose. Looking across at Sarah, she smiled;

“Would you walk with me my dear?” She announced, “I think I need a break from all this testosterone.”

“Yes ma’am.” Replied Sarah curtly, clutching her bag tightly.

As the left the group behind, the Premier’s wife removed a pack of cigarettes from her own bag, and lit one, offering the pack to Sarah. After a moment’s hesitation, she smiled and took the offered cigarette and lighter.

”Thank you ma’am.” she mumbled.

”My dear, honestly, you military types and your programming does vex me so. Please, call me Eva.”

”Yes ma’a…. sorry, Eva.” blushed Sarah.

“What’s your first name child?” enquired Mrs Zimann.

“Sarah.”

“Well Sarah, what thought turned you so scarlet before?” grinned Mrs Zimann knowingly.

“I uh, it was nothing ma’, um Eva. Uh, how long have you and Mr Zi… uh Ben been married?” She asked desperate to change the subject.

“You really can’t fool me that easily child. It was a young man, no?”

Sarah’s blush told her everything she needed to know.

“See? I’m not so old and out of touch with these things, no matter what my daughter thinks," smiled Eva. “Is he your lover?”

“Uh, no, um, not really, we only just met today.” Sarah sighed taking a drag on her cigarette.

“I met him on the job actually, both of ours.” She smiled, after exhaling a plume of smoke into the night air. “Did you see the news of the bombing today?”

“Yes I di….” Started Eva, she fixed Sarah with a puzzled expression for a moment. “You were the girl spoken of by the bystanders no?”

”I uh don’t know what you’re talking about….” Sarah muttered shyly.

”I don’t suspect there are many females in your unit, but I am right. That was you? Wasn’t it?”

Sarah nodded slightly, avoiding Eva Zimann’s eyes.

”You know the papers are asking who the mystery soldier girl was?” Eva asked, with full knowledge that Sarah did not know.

Looking at Sarah’s face, Eva could see the horror on the young girl’s face. “Not fond of the spotlight?” she enquired.

“I’d rather not talk about it.” muttered Sarah into her cigarette.

As the two neared a large pond in the grounds, Eva directed Sarah towards a row of stone seats beside the water.

“How long have you been a girl dear?”

Sarah looked at Eva Zimann with a look of horror and surprise on her face; “I uh, I, um, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered, knowing full well that would be convincing nobody. Dejected and resigned, Sarah sighed, and slumped forwards in her seat. “What was it?” she asked, looking over at Eva.

“No one thing dear, a series of discrepancies, that’s all.” Eva smiled and took Sarah’s hand. “Don’t worry child, I wont tell anyone.

Sarah looked up from her resignation; “Why? You have ever right to RTU me, request another operative.”

“Yes, I could.” Mused Eva, “But I see nothing wrong with the current one.”

A tear rolled down Sarah’s cheek as she sat quietly pondering the Mrs Zimann’s words.

“I hate to sound like a fraud, but, what gave me away?” Sarah asked meekly.

Handing Sarah a handkerchief, Mrs Zimann shook her head slowly and purposefully. “Nothing in particular dear, it was mostly guesswork till you confirmed my suspicion. And believe me, it was not your looks.”

“When you first arrived, you looked beyond nervous. A seasoned operator of your background shouldn’t have looked so scared witless. Secondly, you are unsure in your heels dear; no young woman of your age would be wobbling around on her heels like a young teen,” she giggled.

“You got me there. It’s the first time I’ve worn the darn things.” sighed Sarah. “I can’t stand them.” She grinned with an exasperated laugh.

“How long have you been transitioning child?” asked Mrs Zimann softly. “I must say, you are very beautiful. The hormones have been kind to you.”

“I uh, this is sort of my first full day I guess.”

Mrs Zimann looked incredulously at Sarah. “You mean to tell me you lived as a boy before today?” How did you hide the effects of the hormones?”

”I didn’t Eva. I, what hormones?” asked Sarah, looking puzzled.

“You have been taking hormone therapy no? You realise that is very dangerous without a doctor?”

”I’ve not taken a thing Ma’am, um Eva.” Sarah replied quickly looking worried.

“My god, child, you are truly blessed,” smiled Mrs Zimann. “You simply must talk to this Doctor friend of mine. I'll give you his card later. He supplies my HRT, keeps me looking young.” She grinned conspiratorially. “I’m sure I could make an arrangement for him to see to your needs, it’s a crime that a girl of your beauty be forced to endure testosterone.”

“I, um, I don’t know how to thank you Eva, this is just all so sudden, but it’s so right. I can’t explain how I feel. I’ve just felt this way since I was small, that I was not the person I appeared. But I know so little.” Sarah sighed looking at her painted toenails in the black leather heels.

”I mean, I’ve sort of fallen into all of this so quickly, I’ve picked up a few little things, but I’m winging most of it, terrified I'll be discovered.” She sobbed.

“Hush child, hush” soothed Mrs Zimann. “I think only someone in my position could have known dear, the military specifics of your unit were the most telling hint. I had been campaigning to allow female soldiers to try out for your unit with the women’s rights forum I chair. If a woman had joined, I’d have known about it. So you can see; your appearance was quite a surprise.”

Sarah Let herself relax finally. It wasn’t anything she had done. That little fact made her feel somehow more secure.

”Well you have your wish Eva.” She giggled. “This is one girl who is staying in Sayeret Matkal.”

“Of that, I am glad.” smiled Mrs Zimann. “We should return to the men before they forget something important like breathing.” She giggled. Rising, the two women began to walk back towards the house and the others.

Sarah was glad that this day was drawing to an end. It had contained far too much even for her; ESPECIALLY for her.