Epstein Secrets

eace deal with Syria’s then-dying dictator, Hafez al-Assad, a few months earlier. Yet these three dedicated men — Gili, who was by training a lawyer; Shlomo, an academic; and Danny, a former Mossad chief — had just been through dozens of hours of intricately detailed talks with each of Arafat’s top negoti

eneral, we headed to our setting-off point. Yoffe himself left to join Avraham Arnan and Meir Amit’s intelligence deputy, 67 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_011538 Ahraleh Yariv, in the command post for our mission, atop a hill on the Israeli side of the northern border. The sun set at around seven, but we waited for darknes

assumed a kind of historical inevitability of Israeli trtumph. Though we’d ending up prevailing in 1973, it was impossible not to wonder whether, as Shlomo suggested, we had missed the signs of a possible peace beforehand. Now, however, we were facing an escalating challenge from an enemy with no intere

ied there, in the spring of 1969. My parents and brothers came with two busloads of friends from the kibbutz. Avraham Arnan was there, of course. But Ahraleh Yariv and Eli Zeira, two of the military intelligence heroes of the Six-Day War, also drove up for the wedding, which touched both Nava and me, not to ment

eace deal with Syria’s then-dying dictator, Hafez al-Assad, a few months earlier. Yet these three dedicated men — Gili, who was by training a lawyer; Shlomo, an academic; and Danny, a former Mossad chief — had just been through dozens of hours of intricately detailed talks with each of Arafat’s top negoti

eneral, we headed to our setting-off point. Yoffe himself left to join Avraham Arnan and Meir Amit's intelligence deputy, 67 HOUSE _OVERSIGHT_027915 Ahraleh Yariv, in the command post for our mission, atop a hill on the Israeli side of the northern border. The sun set at around seven, but we waited for darkness

assumed a kind of historical inevitability of Israeli triumph. Though we'd ending up prevailing in 1973, it was impossible not to wonder whether, as Shlomo suggested, we had missed the signs of a possible peace beforehand. Now, however, we were facing an escalating challenge from an enemy with no interes

ied there, in the spring of 1969. My parents and brothers came with two busloads of friends from the kibbutz. Avraham Arnan was there, of course. But Ahraleh Yariv and Eli Zeira, two of the military intelligence heroes of the Six-Day War, also drove up for the wedding, which touched both Nava and me, not to ment