“Why?” said Yatom, still looking at Feldhandler. “Is Brom suddenly expecting something?”
Feldhandler met Yatom’s eyes and walked over to the bigger man, and lightly took the commando’s left arm, pushing him gently away from Mofaz and Shapira.
“Have you talked to Brom?” asked Feldhandler in a whisper.
“Of course” replied Yatom with a curious look. “He told me the bad news. It wasn’t exactly unexpected. How many times did we call off the Iran operation?”
“Ten, if I recall” said the scientist.
“So?”
“So, the point is we should keep preparing” said Feldhandler with an air of disappointment. “The more men you can take, the better your chance of success. If we better the odds, it’s more likely they will give us a go-ahead.”
“Fine, but that’s not going to make a difference between today and tomorrow—when you have to shut down” said Yatom bitterly.
“Twelve or fourteen men; who cares? We’ll be back at our old units by next week probably.” He paused and looked at Feldhandler who seemed to be examining his own feet. Mofaz seemed tired and bored, Shapira lost his own thoughts. Feldhandler continued to stare down and said nothing, so Yatom went on.
“Okay humor yourself—you and Perchansky want to ride on the capsule while you have a chance is that it? Well we’ve got nothing else to do, until they disband the sarayet, eh Mofaz?”
The Major looked over with a dull stare. Yatom couldn’t tell whether he’d overheard the conversation or not. Yatom noted that Shapira and Bolander both seemed to be eyeing Perchansky—what did the Americans see in her, he wondered? Several of his men were nodding off. It was silly, he thought, a final drill for no purpose—everyone either knew it or sensed it. But the drill was scheduled and the risks minimal, so why argue with the professor if he wanted to play around. Perhaps he just wanted to flip it on one last time.
“Well then” said Feldhandler quietly “let’s load the device.”
Yatom shrugged and called “Jalla!” the Arabic term for “let’s go” adopted almost universally in Israel. The soldiers groaned, got up and reorganized themselves by teams.
Mina walked over to Yatom, who called over Shapira and Mofaz. Something about Feldhandler’s sister gave Yatom the willies.
“Drs. Feldhandler and Perchensky will sit at the front of the capsule to monitor the instruments” Mina said to the officers. “I’m just going to engage to device, give you guys a little shake and roll, and them come out of it. Beseder?”
Yatom nodded. He moved off with his men, who entered the capsule smoothly if lethargically. Neither Yatom nor Mofaz encouraged the soldiers, viewing the process as a waste of time. With it now widely known that the reactor was to be shut down, the group dynamic within the sarayet had gone from upbeat professionalism to a kind of resigned boredom.
The two seats at the front of the capsule were reserved for the sarayet commander and his deputy. Feldhandler entered then reminded Mofaz and Yatom that he and Perchensky would need their seats for the test run.
“Do you mind?” said Feldhandler with unusual deference.
Yatom sighed and shrugged. He and Mofaz took seats among the men. This amused the commandos, who now pretended to grumble and make farting sounds for the benefit of their leaders. Feldhandler and Perchansky took the front seats at the controls.
Shapira looked over to Itzak. They’d drawn up specific procedures for deployments in the capsule and now Yatom was simply ignoring them because Feldhandler and his girl Friday wanted a ride. Shapira opened his mouth but then thought better of it. He raised his eyebrows at Itzak as if to say “see what you’ve got yourself into?”
The controls at the front of the capsule didn’t do much anyway, at least according to Shapira’s understanding. A pair of computer screens gave a complex series of digital readouts, hut operation of the device was slaved to the control center now operated by Feldhandler’s sister.
All the people in the front seats could do was disengage the device in an emergency, and that didn’t seem likely during a quick training ride.
The soldiers doubled checked each was tightly strapped in. The capsule produced a wild ride—even in training run the shaking could be severe. Feldhandler and Perchansky tightened their harnesses as well. Then the professor typed a few strokes on the computer and sent a message to the control center. A return message popped up. Feldhandler twisted as best as he could in his seat towards the heavily burdened commandos behind him.
“They are ready. Everyone here set? Colonel?”
“Let’s get on with it” said Yatom laconically. In the control center Mina typed instructions into the enabling computer, and received assurances from her the other technicians that all systems were online and operating within normal limits. Brom entered the control room and stood over her shoulder.
“Mind?” he said.
“Not at all” Mina replied coolly. “We’re ready to run the test. Not much to see though—the capsule will only be gone for a second—maybe two.”
She communicated with the capsule entirely through the computer, and sent Feldhandler a final message. She typed so fast and sent it so quickly that Brom, though he glanced down, didn’t get a look at it—not that he really cared.
“Engaging reactor” Mina said.
Several seconds later power surged into the capsule bay and the device appeared to tremble and glow. This persisted for several moments. Mina turned to the technician beside her. They stared out at the capsule bay through the thick, tinted and polarized safety screen of the control center. “Ready?” The technician nodded. Mina carefully typed a coded instruction into the enabling computer and hit the “enter” key.
There was a shuddering roar. A flash lit the capsule bay. Inside the control center Mina, Brom and a dozen technicians instinctively turned their heads from the flash, and then immediately looked up. In that first second none of them were surprised. The capsule had disappeared, just as it was designed to do. It was the second third and fourth seconds that sent shock waves through the room. The capsule did not reappear.
Inside the windowless capsule the soldiers were illuminated by faint red lights. They had mentally prepared themselves for two or three seconds of shaking, then arrival back at the capsule bay, followed by a standard unloading and security drill inside the Dimona facility. Instead, after about four seconds the capsule twisted and turned and then flipped over. Ten seconds later in it flipped over again. Yatom looked around as best he could and saw concerned looks on the commandos’ faces, but no fear or panic. This was standard for a regular mission, but not a quick training run. At fourteen seconds they had been underway longer than on the Natanz raid, and much longer than any other training ride. At twenty seconds the capsule flipped again and Feldhandler threw up. So did Itzak. Perchansky began to scream. Yatom sought out Mofaz’s eyes and detected, for the first time a hint of fear. Two or three of the men were quietly offering prayers.
The lights flickered out, plunging them into pitch blackness. Yatom gritted his teeth and stared straight ahead, where he knew Mofaz would be.
Thirty seconds in the lights came back on. Perchansky was screaming hysterically now, and Feldhandler groaned. At thirty-four seconds the capsule swung violently counter-clockwise and struck something. Then they felt a series of jarring impacts. The vehicle seemed to slow and finally came to a quivering stop. The commandos found themselves hanging from their harnesses. The capsule was upside-down.
Training took over. An inverted landing had always been a possibility and the soldiers now followed a specific drill. With one hand the men grabbed handholds that had been put on the floor, while with the other they unhooked their harnesses. Once free they swung down in a quick deliberate motion. There was much bumping and swearing, as the commandos piled into each other and hit the inverted ceiling, but the entire process took all of ten seconds. Only puke covered Itzak had any difficulty, and his was slight.