sliding door.
Chief of Staff Yitzhak Rabin stepped down, followed by UN General Odd Bull, who held his blue cap as they jogged from the helicopter, which departed immediately.
The Indian driver held the door for the UN general, and a moment later the Jeep drove off. Elie glanced at his watch, noting the time.
“Weiss!” Rabin noticed him and came over. “Impressive work with the black hats.”
“Fear is a great motivator.”
They strolled to the end of the parking area and stood by a stone wall, which offered southern views across a ravine, the border fence running north to south, and Government House on the opposite ridge.
Elie turned his back to the wind and lit a Lucky Strike.
Rabin pulled one from Elie’s pack and used his burning cigarette to light it. His fingers shook, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Is Bull going to help?”
“A pompous old stiff.” Rabin drew deeply and held the smoke inside. It drifted from his mouth when he spoke. “I took him everywhere-the Galilee, the coastal strip, the Negev. Wherever he pointed, the pilots went. He kept looking for the attack forces we’re accused of building up along the borders, but all he saw were our thin lines of defense, manned by our regulars and some very frustrated reservists. It confirmed what we’ve been telling him. He couldn’t argue with his own eyes, but he said that the Arabs have legitimate concerns about our belligerent intentions. Legitimate concerns! ”
“They’re lying to justify attacking us first.”
“Bull said they’re afraid of us because of Dimona. Can you imagine? They are afraid of us! ”
“Nuclear bombs are a scary thing.”
“But we don’t have anything useable!”
“Not yet.”
General Rabin took another cigarette from Elie’s pack and lit it with the stub. “I need a vacation,” he said. “Maybe we’ll all end up together in a POW camp-a long vacation.”
“You don’t really believe that, right?”
“No. There won’t be any POW after an Egyptian first strike.” Rabin made a cutting gesture. “They’ll demolish our air force on the ground and own the sky. Their tanks and infantry will swarm us like arbeh!” He used the biblical word for the locusts God had sent to scare the Egyptians into freeing the Israelite slaves. “The Jordanians and Syrians will jump in, and we’ll be dead in twenty-four hours.”
The wind, which had calmed down for a while, suddenly lashed at them. The chief of staff shielded his cigarette. “Our only chance,” he said, “is a preemptive strike.”
“What about the UN radar?” Elie motioned at Government House across the gulch. “Won’t they notice our jets taking off?”
Rabin sucked on his cigarette as if it were oxygen. “I’m still waiting for a Mossad assessment of the radar system’s range. We know it can detect planes approaching Jerusalem. But if this radar is strong enough to track our jets over the Negev and the Mediterranean, then Bull could alert the Egyptian high command. That kills our first- strike option. Which is our only option.”
“I’m not an expert in radars,” Elie said, “but the rotating reflector on that thing is huge.”
They stood together, gazing at the radar on the hill behind Government House, smoking their cigarettes.
“Whatever the range of this thing,” Rabin finally said, “without an order from our government, there won’t be a first strike. I need Dayan to take over the defense ministry.”
Elie pulled a few photos from his pocket. They showed Moshe Dayan holding various antiques for the camera, directing uniformed IDF soldiers at an archeological dig, and sitting in his garden among valuable treasures.
“Everyone is entitled to one vice.” Rabin lit a third cigarette with the stub of his second. “Or two.”
“A thief as defense minister?”
“You’re looking for an honest politician?” Rabin sneered. “Good luck!”
“There’s a difference between dishonesty and criminality.”
The chief of staff watched the smoke drift away from his mouth. “Most of my career I’ve served under Dayan. He’s arrogant. Dishonest. A braggart. But he has steel balls. As defense minister, he’ll give the green light and save Israel. That’s all I care about right now.”
Across the gulch, on the Jordanian side, they could see the white ant that was General Bull’s Jeep. It approached Government House from the east. Elie glanced at his watch. Eleven minutes since leaving the IDF command in West Jerusalem. “Eshkol promised me the top Mossad post.”
Rabin smiled. “Why would you want such a headache?”
“To save our people from another Holocaust.”
“Get over it, Weiss. The Nazis lost the war. They failed to exterminate us. Look around. We’re still here.”
“You’re a naive sabra,” Elie said. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“You haven’t seen your family butchered like sheep on market day, haven’t smelled the crematoria, still glowing red with our people’s ashes.”
“I’ve lost comrades in battle,” Rabin said. “I’ve fought for Israel since my Bar Mitzvah.”
“Playing defense. That’s why you boys call your army the Israeli Defense Force. It’s delusional to think that the Holocaust ended with the Third Reich. The Final Solution didn’t start with Hitler, it didn’t end when the Americans reached Auschwitz, and it will continue until we finish it off!”
“You’re paranoid.”
“The way I see it, our people have been the subject of a Final Solution campaign for thousands of years, since the day idol worshippers chased the patriarch Abraham from his home, through the Egyptian slavery, Amalekite attacks, Canaanite raids, the Babylonian exile, the Greek massacres, the Romans burning down the temple, crushing Masada-”
“I don’t need a history lesson.” Pointing with his cigarette at the border, Rabin said, “I’m worried about the here and now.”
Elie looked over his shoulder at the staff car awaiting Rabin, his driver and aide standing by, watching. “The here and now include the Final Solution. Think of the crusaders, who killed more Jews in Europe than the Muslims they had set out to vanquish. And the Inquisition, another phase in the Final Solution. The expulsions from Spain, Portugal, and England. The pogroms in Poland, Latvia, the Ukraine, and Russia. Stalin’s mass murder of Jews.” He paused to take a draw, blowing the smoke into the wind. “Hitler’s camps were just another phase in the effort to exterminate the Jews. And now? Are you listening to Nasser’s speeches? He’s the leader of the Arab world, and what did he declare in Cairo’s giant square last week? Annihilate Israel! Throw the Jews into the sea! Isn’t it the familiar language of the Final Solution?”
“What do you want?” Rabin’s voice rose in anger. “We’re ready to move! We’re ready to fight! We’re ready to win!”
“This time, maybe. But what about next time? And the next?” Elie’s cigarette burned his fingers. He dropped it. “When I escaped our village in ’forty-one, powerless to stop the butchery of my parents and siblings, I vowed to dedicate my life to our final solution. I call it: Counter Final Solution. ”
The chief of staff looked at him, waiting for an explanation.
“Exterminate our enemies before they exterminate us.”
“You want to kill all the Gentiles in the world?”
“Only those who want to kill us. A dose of preventative medicine.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Kill Nasser, for example, and you’ve eliminated a charismatic leader capable of marshalling a Pan-Arabic military attack on Israel.”
“There would be another Nasser.”
“We kill him too.” Elie pointed at his own chest. “When I’m in charge of Mossad, the game will change. I’ll set up a worldwide network of fearless Jewish assassins and go after our enemies preemptively.”
“Sounds expensive,” Rabin said.
“Money is available. Our agents will operate on every continent. They’ll identify our enemies and eliminate
