interpreter held both hands protectively over his genitals, the
physicist leaned over to read the instrument.
Major Karami asked, 'How can we be sure the drums contain plutonium?'
Horn shrugged. 'I have no motive to deceive you. Have I asked you for
any money?'
'You are a rich man,' Kararni pointed out. 'Perhaps your only goal is
to make our country look foolish in the eyes of the world. In the eyes
of the Zionists.'
'Silence, Ilyas!' Prime Minister Jalloud commanded.
Horn smiled knowingly. 'My intentions regarding the jews are identical
to your own, Major. You can be sure of that.'
Karami looked skeptical. He turned to Dr. Sabri and spoke rapidly in
Arabic. 'Could not spent reactor fuel produce this reaction?
Couldn't the instrument be tampered with to produce any desired
reading?'
Already protective of his new toy, Sabri spoke defensively.
'Spent fuel alone would not produce the reaction you see, Major.
The drums contain plutonium.'
'You sound very sure of yourself for an inexperienced young man.'
'I am the most experienced man you will find in our country!'
'Yes, yes, we know that,' Prime Minister Jalloud said, switching back to
English. 'Why don't we close the vault now?'
Horn nodded. Smuts pressed the button that hydraulically moved the
lead-lined cover back into place. Angered by Major Karami's skepticism,
Dr. Sabri returned to the bomb chamber. In a few seconds he had the
weapon open for inspection. His eyes glinted like those of a boy over
his first electric train. Major Karami, however, looked far from
satisfied.
'I understand your skepticism, Major,' Alfred Horn said.
'And under the circumstances, perhaps you deserve more assurance of my
motives than my word alone.' Pieter Smuts shifted uneasily. 'If you
gentlemen will join Dr. Sabri,' Horn went on, 'I believe I can satisfy
all doubts as to my motives regarding the Jews.'
Major Karami stepped quickly into the yellow-lit chamber. Jalloud and
his interpreter reluctantly followed him inside, where they formed a
respectful half-circle around the bomb.
Smuts leaned down and whispered into Horn's ear, 'I don't think this is
a good idea.'
'Nonsense,' Horn said. He buzzed his wheelchair up to the door of the
chamber. 'The time for secrecy is past. Remove the decal, Pieter.'
With a sigh of frustration the Afrikaner flipped a wall switch, flooding
the storage chamber with fluorescent white light. Then he shouldered
past the Libyans and knelt beside the upended weapon.
Taking a penknife from his pocket, he unfolded a short blade and began
to scrape lightly beneath the flames of the painted Phoenix.
Soon he had pried up a triangle of black polyurethane. He put the knife
back into his pocket, then took the curled edge between his thumb and
forefinger and pulled with a gentle, steady pressure. There was a soft,
adhesive ripping sound as the black decal tore away from the metal fin.
Prime Minister Jalloud gasped.
'Allah protect us,' whispered the interpreter.
Dr. Sabri stared in mute wonder.
But Major Karami smiled with wolfish glee. For hidden beneath the black
polyurethane decal was Alfred Horn's true Phoenix design-a blood red
planet Earth clutched in the flaming talons of the Phoenix. And
spanning the red globe-a curved black swastika. Karami's sigh of
satisfaction told Horn that his revelation had produced its desired
effect.
Horn smiled. 'It will take the doctor a half hour at least to complete
his inspection. Why don't we,go upstairs and wait in more comfortable
surroundings? Smuts will stay until he has finished.'
'An ... an excellent idea,' Jalloud stammered Jumah the interpreter
stumbled out of the chamber, his face ashen. He and Prime Minister
Jalloud followed Horn's wheelchair to the elevator at the far end of the
basement lab.
But Major Karami lingered behind. At the elevator Jalloud turned and
watched him. Still only halfway to the elevator, the stubborn major
stood staring back down the length of the lab to the vault where
Sabri-under the watchful gaze of Pieter Smuts-tolled over his deadly
prize.
Horn called, 'More questions, Major?'
Karami turned and walked toward the elevator. 'What is behind the other
two doors? More bombs?'
Horn's smile faded. 'No. I keep only one weapon here.
They're too dangerous.'
'More dangerous than raw plutonium?' Karami stepped into the elevator.
Horn smiled thinly. 'Far more dangerous. There is always the chance
that some unscrupulous individual or nation might attempt to steal
them.'
The elevator closed with a hydraulic hiss.
'I'M sure this house is well protected,' Karami baited.
'Did you see any security on your way in?' Horn asked gamely.
Karami's eardrums registered a painful relief of pressure as the
elevator rocketed toward the surface. He had already noted the lack of
security with great satisfaction. 'No, I didn't.'
'It's there, Major. Smuts is the best in his field.'
'And what is his field, Herr Horn? Personal security?'
The old man smiled. 'I believe the English term is 'asset protection.'
'Translate,' Karami commanded. When the prime minister's interpreter
obliged, Karami said, 'Ah. Was he a soldier, then, this Smuts? Where
did he train?'
Horn folded his spotted hands in his lap. 'He served in the South
African army as a young man. But he has a varied background. By the
time I found him, he'd fought all over Africa.'
The elevator opened on the ground floor.
'And who trained him in this 'as-set protection,' as you call it?'
Karami asked. 'The South African Army?'
'I did,' Horn said tersely, rolling into the spacious reception hall. 'I
'With all due respect,' Karanii called, who trained you?'
