A/N: I do not speak Hebrew or read it or even understand it (I take Spanish at school and that isn't going to well either!). . . . That said, all grammatical mistakes in either English or Hebrew are mine. If I said something wrong or got my context confused (in relation to the Hebrew) please feel free to correct me. And, by all means, if anything on here in Hebrew is like WRONG wrong, let me know and I apologize. Thanks, Kit

My Aliyah

Director Eli David sat at his desk, watching with rapt attention the screen in front of him.

At first, there was nothing but the drone of static and tangled mess of black and white snow, until his daughter's familiar countenance appeared. However, she looked different from their last encounter; her face was thinner and there were definite shadows smudged beneath her eyes –her mother's eyes, he thought, grasping at the fleeting memory. Her hair fell softly around her face, clean and free as it spilled over her shoulders in a cascade of ebony curls. There was a steely ferocity that glinted in her dark eyes as she glared through the camera, glaring at him. Raising her chin proudly, she spoke, her voice, devoid of any fear or uncertainty, ringing clear.

"Shalom, Director David –Papa.

"By the time this tape reaches you, you will have already known that I will not be returning to Tel Aviv. . . . I have realized that I do not know you as I did –if I ever did. And though you may have known me as I was –I am a stranger to you as I am now.

"You have accused me of being weak, that my time in America has made me soft. . . . I am a stronger person because of what the Americans have taught me, showed me. . . . At Mossad, I was an assassin –I was told to kill and destroy and I obeyed. . . . I know who I am now, I am an investigator, not just a killer. . . .

"I have never had a family, not since we lost Tali . . . . And now, I am surrounded by people who care about me and . . . . I am happy. . . . I understand that you my classify me as a rogue and send an agent for me and that is your decision –I choose to leave Mossad and I understand the repercussions that may come as a result. . . . I understand you owe me nothing –you never did- but I am still your daughter, Papa. And while Israel will always be my homeland, America will always be my home.

"Trust is hard to come by, we both know this. You asked me to make my aliyah, you asked for my loyalty to you and you alone and yet. . . . You sent me on a suicide mission and left me to die and I do not think I can forgive you for that. . . . I have atoned for my sins and wish to be left alone, I only wanted . . . . closure. . . .

"Todah veShalom."

She smiled at him, at her father, as rage contorted his features and an odd sadness curled up into his cold heart. He had lost what was once his most valuable asset . . . . But she was broken, he could tell, and that meant that she was someone else's liability. . . . Yes, she was damaged beyond repair and no longer his problem.

And as he went to remove the tape and destroy it, her last words stopped him cold:

"I've made my aliyah."

And she was gone.

Todah veShalom : Thank you and goodbye