Summary
On October 30, 1942, the Gestapo commander in Estonia received a message that the Finnish government intended to hand over nine Jewish refugees to Germany. A week later, on November 6, 1942, only eight Jewish refugees were handed over to the Nazis.
Where did the ninth Jew go?
Nadav, a young Israeli photographer, who loses his way in the frozen wilderness of Finnish Lapland, is saved thanks to a survival cabin he came across at the very last moment. A mysterious text engraved in a hidden corner of the cabin arouses his curiosity and together with Heidi, a young Finnish woman he met, he returns to the place. There they discover a slick with mysterious objects from World War II.
With the help of Kurt, a German journalist, they succeed in deciphering the story hidden behind the cryptic writing and discover the connection between a Jewish-Finnish sniper unit that exterminated Nazis in World War II, a stolen treasure of diamonds and the mysterious disappearance of the ninth Jew.
In the settlement of Yad Hamona, established near Jerusalem by a group of Christian Finns in memory of those eight Jews, the mystery is finally solved and published. The message conveyed by the Ninth Jew in the hidden script takes on a special meaning in the horrific massacre that took place in Israel on October 7, 2023, and brings the fate of Nadav and Heidi together with evil.
It is an imaginary historical suspense novel written inspired by real events, while being based on places, people and historical facts, and takes place in Finland, Austria, Germany and Israel.
The book will be published soon. Selected chapters from it will be published in Hai Pa in the coming weeks.
Chapter 5 - Moshea Nath Miror
From the car a young lady looked at me with a pleasant smile on her beautiful face. She opened the window and waited for Pi to come out. I leaned towards her panting and sweating.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," I said in English, smiling heartily.
Her blond hair touched her shoulders, glasses with a thick black frame were placed on her nose and a pleasant and restrained smile, decorated with two graceful dimples, decorated her handsome face.
"This is a somewhat strange statement from the mouth of a man meeting me for the first time in his life," she said jokingly, "I suppose you are happy to see me because you have to go where he is and not just because I am beautiful," she replied in English with a distinct Finnish accent, "where do you have to go ?"
Her voice was soft and pleasant but her restrained humor and somewhat forced wit embarrassed me a little.
"To Rovaniemi," I replied.
"It's probably your lucky day," she smiled, "that's exactly where I'm going. You're welcome to come on."
"Thank you!" I said with obvious joy. I rushed to the back of the car, opened the trunk, carefully placed the skis, the poles and the backpack inside, closed it gently and hurried to sit next to her, making sure to fasten the seat belt.
"Hi, my name is Nadav," I said, taking my hands out of the gloves and sending my right hand to press.
She replied with a smile. Her hand was soft, warm and pleasant. She pressed the gas pedal and we set off.
I removed the snow goggles from my brows, removed the woolen hat from my head, exposing my advancing baldness, removed the camera from my shoulder, placed it on my lap, let out a sigh and looked at her.
"Very nice, my name is Heidi," she said and sent me a curious look, "what are you doing alone in this cold and desolate place? Don't you know it's dangerous?"
I looked at her embarrassed and threw my hands in the air.
"Now I already know," I said and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.
"You probably also know that every year the winter kills quite a few victims here in Lapland. It happens mainly to tourists who are unaware of the dangers, lose their way, and freeze to death," she said in a slightly scolding tone, looking at me as if she was trying to see what impression her words made on me.
"If I had met you a few days ago, I probably would have been a little more careful and not gotten into this trouble," I said and lowered my eyes.
She looked straight at the road.
"I hope it won't be too rude to ask you what country you come from. Your accent sounds familiar to me, but I'm not sure." saying.
"From Israel," I answered, "a noisy little country in the Middle East. Do you know?"
"Israel?" She looked at me in amazement, "I actually know this country quite well. I spent a good few years there," she said enthusiastically and laughed.
My surprised expression must have amused her.
"Really? What exactly were you looking for in Israel?"
The coincidence was truly unexpected.
"I served in Lebanon as a liaison officer in the Finnish unit that was stationed there as part of the UNIFIL force," she said, "as part of my duties I spent quite a lot in Israel. You have a beautiful and interesting country. I used every free moment to travel and get to know the very diverse landscapes there and of course the Israelis as well. Besides staying in Nakura, Tzur and Beirut in Lebanon, I lived for a while in Nahariya, I visited Eilat, Tel Aviv, Jerusalem and also the West Bank."
"Walla?" I asked.
"Walla!" answered
To my surprise she knew that word but the way she pronounced it was amusing.
"What are you surprised about?" She burst out laughing, "Is it because I know the word 'vala' or because women serve in the Finnish army?"
"I am not at all surprised that Finnish women serve in the army," I replied, "I have come across quite a few women in senior management positions here in Finland."
"So what surprised you so much anyway?"
"The circumstances of your acquaintance with Israel are not common," I replied, "I admit that young Finnish women usually visit Israel as volunteers in kibbutzim and not as UNIFIL officers."
"You're right," she smiled and looked at me long with her pair of blue eyes.
I felt a little embarrassed. I wondered if it was because of my tanned facial skin adorned with two-day-old stubble, my slightly long nose, my brown eyes and shy smile, or just because of the interest I arouse in her.
"What occupation brings a young Israeli man to meet Finnish women in management positions? The ski suit you are wearing and the fact that you found yourself on the side of a road in the middle of winter do not indicate that you are a businessman."
She basically implies that there is a contradiction between the character of the idiot who got lost in the ice desert, and the character of the businessman I'm talking about.
"I was a businessman, but not anymore. A bit of a long story," I answered, trying to reconcile the contradiction, "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
She glanced at the clock.
"We have over an hour's drive and I have a feeling your stories will be more interesting than just staring at trees and snow on the side of the road," she said.
"Where do you want me to start?"
"I'm curious to know what brought you to our meeting in this place?"
I smiled. I'm starting to like her wit though, I thought.
"For the past few years I have been mainly involved in photography," I began, "this time I am visiting here as part of an organized photography group. We spent four days and three nights here touring the arctic landscape of Lapland, to capture it before it disappears due to global warming."
"Are you a professional photographer?"
"Semi-professional," I answered hesitantly, "in recent years it's been my main occupation and I've even won some important awards."
She sent me a look accompanied by a smile, which apparently was supposed to express appreciation.
"And how does a semi-professional photographer lose his team in the heart of the Lapland Ice Desert?"
"If you're stubborn, determined and arrogant, it's not difficult at all," I answered honestly.
"I like people who know how to admit their mistakes," she smiled, "and that's actually a sign that you're not really arrogant. You seem more like a humble guy who talks to the point," she said with an openness that is not typical of Finns, certainly not at such an early stage of getting to know each other.
I smiled awkwardly, fixed my gaze on a point that disappeared into the air and began to excitedly relive what had happened to me in the past day.
I told how the reindeer captured my heart and why I could not pass up, in any way, the opportunity to take the picture where he stood enveloped in a glowing halo of the setting sun. I excitedly described the moments when I realized that the traces of my friends had disappeared, that my phone rang and I was left alone, in the dark, in the heart of the Arctic sea, in extreme cold, not knowing where I was.
"Suddenly I realized that this might be the last day of my life," I continued to look at her, trying to understand if I was able to convey through words the dramatic moments that passed through me.
Her facial expression and the look in her eyes expressed empathy.
"I felt like a swimmer caught in an eddy far from the shore and then at a certain moment he realizes that he is going to die because of arrogance and a mistake he made. I was on the verge of despair."
She sent a look of sympathy through her glasses but ignored the tears welling up at the corners of my eyes. My over-emotionality made me shed tears easily and more than once caused me embarrassment.
"What made you not give up?" she asked after a short silence.
I searched for the right words to answer her question.
"Sisu!" I finally replied.