you enter the bank, then you're tourists from South Africa. The passports you've left behind in your hotel rooms are genuine fakes. Memorize your new names. You entered Germany two days ago through Austria and you're on a trip to Switzerland. If you're caught during the operation, make no excuses and give no explanation whatsoever. You're regarded as burglars and nothing else. If you're rolled up after the operation, stick to the burglary story: you came for cash but found only papers. If there is cash in either location, take it. If the vault was full of cash and you're stopped with only papers, your cover as a burglar would only look ridiculous. Do not even think of asking to see a U.S. or Israeli consul if you're arrested. The police will treat you in their usual manner – not gently. Endure that. The police must not know who you are. After you've dieted on their food for a while, we'll figure out a way to exfiltrate you. Be patient.
“Next, maintain radio contact with your partner only if absolutely necessary and use the codes we rehearsed. I don't want some German ham-radio enthusiast to call the police after hearing suspicious talk. Your radio is on UHF band and therefore it's very difficult to trace. But still, the last thing we want is the German police on the case. If you do hear the code word on the radio alerting that the German police are closing in, just get the hell out of wherever you are. We'll jam their communications in the area for at least twenty minutes. That'll give you plenty of time.”
Eric then went on to review the operational details one last time.
“There we are. Now, just do what you did during the drills and I'll see you later. Team one in safe house number one, team two in safe house number two, and team three in safe house number three. Only the backup unit returns here after all teams report to their safe houses; we'll dismantle all these installations. This place should be empty no later than 8:00 A.M. tomorrow. Any questions?”
No one spoke.
“Good luck.”
Team one picked up their equipment and went out the door. Five minutes later team three was on the way. I stopped Shimon and wished him well.
“Thanks,” he said. “Don't worry, we'll pull it off.”
Ten minutes later team two was on its way.
I stood behind Benny at the monitor showing a street map of Munich. A yellow arrow and a red arrow, one for each car, showed their progress. Each car had a small transmitter allowing our direction finder to know its position and direction at any time.
Prudent planning, I thought, not to mix the teams. Each organization would hit a different target. That would reduce the risks of confusion due to language and cultural barriers.
I looked at my watch; they should be on target in about fifteen minutes. The curtains were down so I couldn't see outside, but at this time of the year Munich would already be dark and there would be almost no people outside in this part of town, which was why we could begin operations relatively early in the day.
The radio hummed.
“Team one five minutes to target,” said a young man next to the computer.
We waited silently for the next report.
“Team three, five minutes to target.”
Eric seemed calm. Only his frequent glimpses at his watch revealed any tension. I was holding a bottle of water, sipping every couple of minutes to keep my own nerves under control.
“Team one, on target,” said the computer operator.
“Team three, on target,” said another computer operator.
“Power is off in the entire block.”
“Give team one the go-ahead,” said Eric.
The computer operator spoke into the mike.
There was silence for a few minutes and then the operator reported, “Team one inside target. All is well.”
“Team two inside target, all is well.”
That's it; the floodgates were open. The operation was on and there was nothing we could do but wait.
“Team one reporting that the safe is opened, documents have been removed, and photocopying started.”
I gulped more water. Nerves again.
“Team two has recovered documents, expects to leave premises within ten minutes.”
“Great,” said Benny in a low voice standing next to me. “That's what I want, and that was fast.”
I noticed that the back of my shirt was wet. I looked at Benny; I could detect sweat even on cool Benny's forehead. The temperature outside was near freezing, but the heat in the room was almost palpable from our excitement and the warmth generated by the computers and other equipment.
“Team one reporting that the volume of documents in the vault is enormous; there's no time to photocopy it all.”
Eric looked at Benny. “What do you think?”
“Ask him if there's any cash in the vault.”
Eric nodded to the operator who relayed the question.
The coded answer came in quickly. “Yes, 200,000 to 300,000 German marks.”
Benny thought for a moment, and said, “How many documents have they already photocopied and how many more are left?”
“They say that they copied just one file, but there are more than sixty.”
“Tell them to focus on anything that looks to be connected to the Iranians; we don't need anything about other sleazy money-laundering operations. Can they do that?”
“Yes, they think that for sure there are fifteen files connected to the Iranians.”
“How long would it take to copy those?”
“They still couldn't make it by morning.”
Nothing was said about DeLouise's files. I had initiated the operation and my objectives were being overlooked.
Benny turned to Eric. “Here's what I suggest. Let them continue with the copying until 5 A.M. That's almost two hours before sunrise, so they could still leave in the dark. Then tell them to remove all the cash in the vault and the files that haven't been copied.”
“Fine with me,” said Eric. “I suggest we send Dan to join them; he could help them sort out what files to take. After all, these are the bank's files and he is familiar with that kind of paperwork.” Encoded orders were relayed.
“Go ahead, send Dan, there's plenty of work for anyone coming to help.”
“Dan?” said Eric.
“I'm ready, who'll be driving me?” I was already having reise fieber, the German word for hectic excitement in anticipation of travel.
Andy, a young man in jeans, drove me to the bank in a white Ford Taurus. An observer standing on the outside signaled Yuval, who was inside the bank, and the side door was opened for me. Nobody seemed to notice. There was barely any traffic in the street during the blackout and the entire process of my entry took less than two minutes. A bigger problem waited for me inside. It was completely dark; I had no flashlight and nearly fell off the stairs. “Dan?” I heard a whisper in Hebrew. “Come here.”
“Nice idea,” I said, “but I can't see a damn thing.”
“Wait, I'm coming to get you.” Yuval came closer to me holding a flashlight. His face looked odd when the only source of light that illuminated him came from below. He gave me a pair of plastic gloves. “Put them on,” he ordered. He also gave me cloth-covered rubbers to put over my shoes, giving me the look of a surgeon going into the operating room. Finally he gave me a wool cap to put on my head to prevent any hair from falling out and leading to me – if they happened to have my DNA.
“We don't want to leave any prints or marks around,” he said. We climbed the stairs into the executive floor and passed the secretarial workstation into Guttmacher's office. The closet was wide open. A flashlight was mounted on a tripod and Shimon was busy taking photos of files. “Hi,” he raised his head. “Welcome to our studio. Here, look at these files and see which are the best for us. There is so much we could photocopy. To me they all
