of nearly twenty years. Her husband, Pantera, identifies the bodies of his wife and children, swearing vengeance. Reaching as far back as 1989, to their meeting in Rome at a U.S. Embassy New Year’s Eve ball, Deadly Dance starts the story of their relationship in the onion-layered world of covert operatives. Of necessity, theirs is an encounter beset by lies, wrapped in half-truths, concealed in shadowy realities. Kat and Pantera maneuver through action-packed covert operations, romantic encounters, torture and acrobatic combat, all while coming to grips about who they’re hunting and who is hunting them.
Deadly Dance is based on the life of the youngest Kidon Katsa agent in the history of Mossad and her husband, the fabled Chief Black Site Interrogator, who worked under such special access programs as the Operation Copper Green (created under Donald Rumsfeld), the United Nations Security Council – Special Operations Group (UN-SOG), and Task Forces 88 and 121.
Alyn felt at ease in Moti Lichtenfeld’s café. Moti, a squat man sporting a heavy beard approached with a limp, a permanent reminder of his Mossad days. The longtime family friend and son of the founder of Krav Maga placed the tab on the table.
“Thank you for coming, Alyn. Please tell your sister to come by next time she’s in town. We miss her and … dare I say … her energy,” he said in soft Hebrew, giving her a warm smile.
“I will.” She pulled three fifty Skekel notes from her purse and placed them on the table to cover her tab.
Moti looked at Alyn’s daughters, and said, “Good-bye girls. Next time I shall tell you about the bull your mother and I wrestled when we were kids.” He winked at Alyn.
Alyn grinned at her friend and stood up. “Let’s go, ladies.”
Jade, the youngest, looked up with intense interest. Her inquisitive eyes sparkled at Moti, “Really? A bull?!”
Moti nodded and chuckled.
Electra watched her sister’s antics with an I-don’t-believe this look while Jade continued bouncing around her mother. “Aww Mama, come on … You wrestled a bull? Just a couple more minutes, pleeease.”
Alyn shook her head, pulling her long, straight black hair up into a high ponytail. “Later Jade, now move.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Jade replied, extending her lower lip.
Alyn glanced around the café, then up and down the street. She smiled at the patrons who thought they recognized her as a famous local model. Electra, her oldest, a near replica of her statuesque mother, streaked up the sidewalk followed by the younger brown-haired, green-eyed Jade. It was a beautiful sunny day in the city as Alyn put on her Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses and continued to scan the area.
Jade jumped in the air and shouted, “SHOTGUN!”
“No way, you can’t call shotgun, Dad isn’t here,” Electra said, looking to her mother for support.
“We only do that with Dad.