the telephone call

The call came after midnight. The screen read “private number.” On the other line, a gruff voice of a man speaking in Arabic. The dialect was not the local Haifa dialect she spoke. He said her name. When she said yes, he began his monologue.

“We’ve seen you. We know where you work, and we know what kind of a car you own. We know where you live. We have a proposition for you. You will come to Jerusalem, and you will receive money. You’ll go shopping – you can buy nice clothes for yourself. And… you will also do some small mission for us. Then you will go back to Haifa and everything will be fine with you. So. Are you interested?”

She didn’t have to think about it. There was nothing to think about. “No. I’m not interested and I don’t want you calling me again.”

“You are sure of this?”

“Yes. Salamat.” And she hung up the phone.

A short conversation, but it left her shaking. They know where she lives. They know exactly where she works, they’ve seen her at work. He gave her the exact model of her car. They know her name and her phone number. They know everything about her. And she doesn’t know anything about them. About him. Not a name, not a number, not a trace.

They never called her back.

Until today, she doesn’t know who it was – it could have been either of the two players. They both use similar recruitment methods. They both have the means to obtain personal information about anyone.