human language that had ever existed – and be slipped into your back pocket. Today, information was power, and an exa-box was the latest way to steal and transport it.
Alex lay on his bunk and stared at the ceiling. Secure the technology and get it back home . . . hmm. How were seven foreign agents going to secure a heavily guarded laboratory in the middle of a foreign country while he tried to back up an exabyte of data? He closed his eyes and thought through some scenarios. None looked easy or made a lot of sense, but there was one that stuck in his mind: where he and his team were unsuccessful. If their mission failed, Israel would send in a squadron of F-161 Sufa Falcons armed with laser-guided AGM-45 Shrike missiles and some big AGM-130s with thermobaric warheads for deep ground penetration. Or worse – a single mega-kiloton missile to vaporise everything for miles. The fallout would be off the radioactive spectrum. A lot was at stake here.
Alex was also worried about taking Dr Shomron along. He wasn’t concerned for the woman. If she was Mossad – either Kidon or Metsada – she could take care of herself. But the young scientist, even with the HAWCs there, would be significantly exposed. That said, Alex knew Shomron would be needed on the ground. He may be the only one who could actually identify what it was they were looking for. But does he know what he’s getting himself into?
Alex shifted on the cot, trying to get comfortable. His mind was racing and his headache had returned. Damnit, can’t babysit them all , he thought. And if the scientist volunteered, it was his own head after all. Still Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t have all the facts. Something’s missing, but what? All the puzzle pieces weren’t being laid out. Too late now , he thought, we’re committed .
He tossed and turned for another fifteen minutes, then surrendered to his body’s agitation. Gotta burn some energy , he thought as he got to his feet.
Adira found the American HAWC captain wandering along the corridor, trying various doors. At first she’d assumed he was spying, but the T-shirt and towel around his neck and the embarrassed look on his face convinced her he was genuinely looking for somewhere to exercise. She knew herself what the body was like before a mission.
She looked him up and down and grinned. ‘No gymnasium or running track, and don’t ask about a soda machine either. To use one of your own American phrases, you’re not in Kansas anymore, Captain. And don’t even consider jogging up and down the corridor or you’ll be shot.’ She laughed and let him off the hook. ‘I can offer you a coffee, and we can talk through more details of the plan. If you want, you can even do some push-ups on my floor.’
Alex laughed too and gave a slight bow of the head. ‘Lead on.’
She took him to a room more spartan than his own. She kicked a seat around for him to sit on and flicked the button on the electric kettle, which boiled furiously. ‘Instant, no sugar, no milk, and no cookies. The water also tastes like metal.’ She turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.
‘Just the way I like it,’ Alex responded with mock enthusiasm.
Adira handed him the steaming metallic-smelling brew, then sipped her own in silence. She could feel the tall American looking at her, assessing her. For the first time in many years she felt awkward, self-conscious. Achhh, stop it , she thought. She knew there was something on his mind; something he wanted to ask. She waited.
Alex looked at her over his cup. ‘Ms Senesh, why do I feel you’re simply looking for a lift and some US armour plating, and once we locate the target you’ll go on a killing spree that ends up making the mission more kamikaze than Special Ops?’
If not for her training, Adira may have spluttered coffee over herself. She hadn’t expected an American to be so direct, or to try to flush away her cover so quickly. Now she wondered if
Alex lay on his bunk and stared at the ceiling. Secure the technology and get it back home . . . hmm. How were seven foreign agents going to secure a heavily guarded laboratory in the middle of a foreign country while he tried to back up an exabyte of data? He closed his eyes and thought through some scenarios. None looked easy or made a lot of sense, but there was one that stuck in his mind: where he and his team were unsuccessful. If their mission failed, Israel would send in a squadron of F-161 Sufa Falcons armed with laser-guided AGM-45 Shrike missiles and some big AGM-130s with thermobaric warheads for deep ground penetration. Or worse – a single mega-kiloton missile to vaporise everything for miles. The fallout would be off the radioactive spectrum. A lot was at stake here.
Alex was also worried about taking Dr Shomron along. He wasn’t concerned for the woman. If she was Mossad – either Kidon or Metsada – she could take care of herself. But the young scientist, even with the HAWCs there, would be significantly exposed. That said, Alex knew Shomron would be needed on the ground. He may be the only one who could actually identify what it was they were looking for. But does he know what he’s getting himself into?
Alex shifted on the cot, trying to get comfortable. His mind was racing and his headache had returned. Damnit, can’t babysit them all , he thought. And if the scientist volunteered, it was his own head after all. Still Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t have all the facts. Something’s missing, but what? All the puzzle pieces weren’t being laid out. Too late now , he thought, we’re committed .
He tossed and turned for another fifteen minutes, then surrendered to his body’s agitation. Gotta burn some energy , he thought as he got to his feet.
Adira found the American HAWC captain wandering along the corridor, trying various doors. At first she’d assumed he was spying, but the T-shirt and towel around his neck and the embarrassed look on his face convinced her he was genuinely looking for somewhere to exercise. She knew herself what the body was like before a mission.
She looked him up and down and grinned. ‘No gymnasium or running track, and don’t ask about a soda machine either. To use one of your own American phrases, you’re not in Kansas anymore, Captain. And don’t even consider jogging up and down the corridor or you’ll be shot.’ She laughed and let him off the hook. ‘I can offer you a coffee, and we can talk through more details of the plan. If you want, you can even do some push-ups on my floor.’
Alex laughed too and gave a slight bow of the head. ‘Lead on.’
She took him to a room more spartan than his own. She kicked a seat around for him to sit on and flicked the button on the electric kettle, which boiled furiously. ‘Instant, no sugar, no milk, and no cookies. The water also tastes like metal.’ She turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.
‘Just the way I like it,’ Alex responded with mock enthusiasm.
Adira handed him the steaming metallic-smelling brew, then sipped her own in silence. She could feel the tall American looking at her, assessing her. For the first time in many years she felt awkward, self-conscious. Achhh, stop it , she thought. She knew there was something on his mind; something he wanted to ask. She waited.
Alex looked at her over his cup. ‘Ms Senesh, why do I feel you’re simply looking for a lift and some US armour plating, and once we locate the target you’ll go on a killing spree that ends up making the mission more kamikaze than Special Ops?’
If not for her training, Adira may have spluttered coffee over herself. She hadn’t expected an American to be so direct, or to try to flush away her cover so quickly. Now she wondered if
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