This is not Yael, our beautiful Israeli sharpshooter. Security forbids us from posting her real name or image. But you get the idea, right?

“How long did it take you to qualify as a sharpshooter in the IDF?”

“Not too long. I had a natural aptitude with the rifle. I started out at 15 meters, then moved up to 30, 50, 100, 400 then all the way up to,” she hesitates, “classified meters.”

Israeli soldiers are famously and appropriately tight-lipped regarding training and operational details.

Yael—not her real name—is an unbelievably beautiful young Israeli woman. Her moca skin—flawless, like dark glass—testifies to a Bukharin father and Yemenite mother, a genetic mix I strongly recommend. She looks like the American supermodel Tyra Banks, only slimmer, more beautiful — and far more lethal.

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Meet Larry, my buddy from Bensonhurst. Okay, so it’s not Larry. For reasons of security his identity cannot be compromised. But take my word for it, Larry looks exactly like William Powell in The Thin Man. Or not.

Shabbat in the Israeli town of Efrat is a deeply spiritual experience.

The sun falls, gently folding itself into the surrounding hills and valleys. The same Judean hills where Jews have lived, worked and fought since Biblical times.

The unearthly light makes a final golden splash.

My wife Karen and I are visiting Karen’s brother David, his wife Elana, and their four children, residents of Efrat.

Attending Sabbath services in an Efrat synagogue, out of the corner of my eye, I spot “Larry.”

Security requires that I do not use his real name.

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