The NPT had gotten its preliminary report that something might be amiss here at En Gedi from the National Security Agency at Ft. Meade. An unusual amount of activity had been observed from one of the KH-series flyby satellites. Photos had been sent over to the National Photographic Interpretation Center, where analysis suggested that some sort of an alarm might have been set off two and a half days ago, around three in the morning, local time. There had been no apparent damage, no fire, and certainly no detectable radiation leaks. In addition, the Israelis had so far made no announcement about any trouble at their research reactor facility-though it would have been highly unusual for them to do so.
They had been extremely tight-lipped about their involvement with nuclear energy. Still, they had not seemed overly surprised to learn that an NPF team was being sent out to look over the situation. Her instructions were simple, as they had been for each of her inspection trips: Keep your eyes and ears open for anything out of the ordinary.
Israel had the capacity to produce plutonium from her two research reactors, and presently she had operational one enrichment plant, one heavy water plant, and one reprocessing plant, so she also had the capability of producing weapons grade material. The question was, of course, had Israel actually taken the next step? Had she constructed a nuclear weapon or weapons? The NPT wanted to know. God only knew, she thought to herself as their driver brought them over the crest of a hill, the En Gedi plant off in the distance, they had the reason to build such weapons heir survival.
The En Gedi Nuclear Research Station was about average for a facility of its nature. The reactor itself was housed beneath a four-story fiberglass dome inside a slightly larger reinforced concrete containment building. To the east was a small venturi-shaped cooling tower. On the north side of the installation, which was enclosed behind a double line of tall electrified fences, were the various research laboratories and the main administration center. To the west were a small dispensary, dining hall, and housing units for the science and technical staff and the squadron of military guards. Syria, after all, wasn’t very far away.
Security here was, of necessity, very tight. They were met at the front gate by a husky, goodlooking Army officer in a major’s uniform, a hard hat on his head. “Lev Potok” he introduced himself. “I’m the Crises Management Team Supervisor. Welcome to En Gedi, Dr. Abbott, Mr. Hayes”
They shook hands. “We understand you had a little trouble the other night” Lorraine said. There was no use beating around the bush. In that, at least, she agreed with Hayes. Potok managed a tight smile. “It was nothing, actually. But I expect you’ll want to see for yourself”
“Naturally” Hayes said sharply, and Lorraine shot him a warning glance which he ignored. “If you will come along, then, our facility director and chief engineer are waiting to meet you” Potok said. They had gotten out of the Mercedes. The heat at this hour of the afternoon was intense.
Potok gave them hard hats, radiation badges, and visitor tags, and they climbed into his waiting jeep and were whisked across the facility to the three-story administration building. Inside they were ushered into a conference room where two men looked up from a set of blueprints they’d been studying. One was a much older man with longish white hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and the bemused look of a college professor. He was the facility’s director, Dr. Moshe Ben Avral. Lorraine had heard of him.
He’d done a number of papers on the development of nuclear power sources for the third world.
“Pleased to meet you, Dr. Avral” she said, shaking hands. The other, much stockier, much younger man, was Samuel Rosen, the facility’s chief engineer. “A Brooklyn transplant” he said with a smile and a thick New York accent. “A report has been sent along to Washington, Dr. Abbott, so we’re just a little surprised that you’re here” Dr. Avral said gently.
Although Israel had never signed the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty of 1969 (of course at that time they had had no immediate plans for entering the nuclear race), they had come to an informal agreement with the United States to inform her ally what she was doing, and to submit to NPT inspections. “I haven’t seen that report” Lorraine said. “Nor have I” Hayes added. Dr. Avral nodded patiently. “No, of course you would not have seen the report. By the time it was sent, you were unfortunately already in transit” Rosen was looking at Lorraine, an odd, almost anxious expression on his face. He was hiding something, she decided. She turned to him. “You didn’t experience much of a problem, then” she asked. “Not really” Rosen said. “It was a nonradioactive steam leak”
“There was an alarm” Hayes said. “Yes. You can’t believe the safety networks and backups we’ve got here. A valve chatters and a dozen alarms go off. “Your team was called in” she asked Potok, who had so far maintained a stony silence. “SOP” Potok said. “We’re dealing with nuclear energy here, Doctor. It scares a lot of people”
“Me included” she said. There was an awkward silence, which Hayes finally filled by stepping forward and glancing down at the blueprints spread out on the conference table. “We might just as well take a look at this supposed leak, then, all right”
Rosen and Potok exchanged a look, which Lorraine caught. Again she had the impression that they were hiding something. Perhaps something important. I “Yes, of coursedr. Avral said, and he stepped aside to let the engineer take over. For the next fifteen minutes Rosen went over in detail exactly what had happened the night when a steam line valve had supposedly popped loose. Lorraine stood back and pretended to study the diagrams while in actuality she was watching Potok and Dr. Avral.
There was more here than met the eye. Potok was concerned and Dr. Avral was frightened.
On the way back to Tel Aviv she told Hayes that she thought the Israelis were lying. “I don’t think so” the Britisher said smugly. “That Rosen isn’t bad, for a Jew. He knows his engineering” There was more than a simple steam leak” Lorraine said. Hayes looked at her with renewed interest. “Are you going to put that in your report”
“Yes. I I “On what basis”
“I don’t know” she said softly. She looked up at him. “But I’m going to find out”
Kurshin sat in the officers club finishing the last of his steak. It was two in the afternoon. He’d taken a shower, changed into Allworth’s uniform, made a brief telephone call to town, and had his driver, a young airman, take him on a brief tour of the base before dropping him off at the club. He’d dismissed — the young man, but kept the car. “Colonel Allworth” someone said at his elbow and Kurshin looked up, an automatic smile painted on his face. “Yes”
“Tom Mccann. I’m your number two” Mccann was a youngish-looking man with a baby face and bright red hair. He was wearing a pair of tan slacks and a light blue pullover sweater. They shook hands and Kurshin motioned him to have a seat.
“Is it captain” Kurshin asked. He knew nothing about the man.
“Major” Mccann grinned. “The OD heard you were on base and called me.
The old man will be up in Berlin until Monday so I thought I’d stop by and welcome you aboard”