Epstein Secrets

n, south of Beirut. In front of us, troops from the Golani Brigade were completing their takeover of Beirut airport. “You were right,” I told Uri and Yossi. They had been in charge of the simulation exercise in the Airya, predicting how Arik’s ostensibly more limited invasion plan would inevitably develo

loser to Rabin, the two of us had become friends. We immediately made plans to get the next flight home. But before leaving for the airport, I phoned Leah Rabin. However inadequate I knew it would be in helping her even begin to cope with the loss, I told her that my, and Nava’s, thoughts were with her. That

Yossi Ginossar, the former Shin Bet officer who was closest to the Palestinian leader among the Israelis, to set up an informal meeting. I added, to Yossi’s obvious satisfaction and surprise, that I'd be willing to have the meeting in Arafat’s cabin if that’s what he preferred. The next afternoon, I wen

fifth-floor suite in the Dan Hotel in Tel Aviv, our election-night headquarters. My three brothers, and Nava and our daughters, were waiting for me. Leah Rabin, too. Our eyes teared up as we embraced. My parents were by now too frail to come. But I’d promised to phone them, whatever happened. “We did it,” I

n, south of Beirut. In front of us, troops from the Golani Brigade were completing their takeover of Beirut airport. "You were right," I told Uri and Yossi. They had been in charge of the simulation exercise in the kirya, predicting how Arik's ostensibly more limited invasion plan would inevitably develo

loser to Rabin, the two of us had become friends. We immediately made plans to get the next flight home. But before leaving for the airport, I phoned Leah Rabin. However inadequate I knew it would be in helping her even begin to cope with the loss, I told her that my, and Nava's, thoughts were with her. That

Yossi Ginossar, the former Shin Bet officer who was closest to the Palestinian leader among the Israelis, to set up an informal meeting. I added, to Yossi's obvious satisfaction and surprise, that I'd be willing to have the meeting in Arafat's cabin if that's what he preferred. The next afternoon, I wen

fifth-floor suite in the Dan Hotel in Tel Aviv, our election-night headquarters. My three brothers, and Nava and our daughters, were waiting for me. Leah Rabin, too. Our eyes teared up as we embraced. My parents were by now too frail to come. But I'd promised to phone them, whatever happened. "We did it," I