by Uzi Eilam
“Berkeley’s an excellent university,” Farid said appreciatively. “We have a few students there, in the exact sciences—young officers sent here by the Revolutionary Guards’ research and development unit. We expect them to return soon and join the teams that are developing new missiles… But come, let me introduce you to our guest. He’s waiting in the other room with my friend Arash Jafari—you remember him, I’m sure.”
As they entered the room, a tall, slightly balding man with a neatly trimmed beard and green eyes stood up to shake Ryan’s hand. There was no mistaking his charisma.
“Rustam Davidian, please meet our commander, General Mohammad Ali Jamsheedi. He’s here for a short visit,” Arash Jafari said. Ryan felt his hand disappear in the general’s huge hand, the strong handshake leaving no doubt in his mind that the general still maintained his strength and kept in shape.
“I am honored to meet you, Rustam Davidian,” Jamsheedi said in a deep voice. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, and I’m so glad you agreed to help us protect the homeland and the people.” He did not take his eyes off Ryan.
“The honor is mine, General Jamsheedi,” Ryan replied reverently. “I’m pleased to meet you. I don’t know how much I have contributed to the effort, but I’ll continue to do my utmost.”
“You should know, Rustam,” Farid Madhani cut in, “that the general was my commander in the Basij—the youth militia—during the war against Iraq. He was injured in a battle and received the highest medal for valor from the Ayatollah Khomeini himself, for bravery on the battlefield. After the war, the general went on to study aeronautical engineering at the University of Tehran. But what isn’t known to all is his participation in the students’ occupation of the American embassy in Tehran. He led the break-in operation and was then immediately promoted to the position of brigade commander in the Sepāh—the Revolutionary Guards.”
Farid stared devotedly at the general, and Ryan nodded his head in silent awe.
“Don’t be so impressed by Madhani’s enthusiastic descriptions,” Jamsheedi told Ryan in a deep voice. “Fortunately, I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. One could say that the importance of timing and position in space is evident in the field of missile systems. And I’d like to hear updates from both you and Jafari on activities in that area.” It was clear to Ryan that Jamsheedi was well informed in other areas too. It was also clear that he knew exactly what he wanted and that he expected to see results. Ryan shivered. He tried to find a way to postpone the report, as his efforts had yet to bear fruit.
“Farid,” Ryan said, “you didn’t tell me that the general is knowledgeable in missile technology and aeronautics…”
“I’ll answer you briefly,” Madhani said, looking anxiously to see Jamsheedi’s reaction. “After commanding the Revolutionary Guards brigade, General Jamsheedi was awarded the rank of brigadier general and was put in charge of research and development units, which the Revolutionary Guards were responsible for. The general is in charge of the Revolutionary Guards’ engineering department, and through that, our economic projects all over the world.”
“That’s enough history for one day,” Jamsheedi interrupted. He’d heard enough praise. “I want to hear a progress report. Rustam doesn’t have detailed knowledge of our needs, but you, Farid, and you, Jafari, know full well how important it is to us to know what the Big Satan and Little Satan—America and Israel—are developing against our missile systems. If the partial information that our intelligence services have obtained is correct, we may find ourselves in danger of failing in our efforts to formulate a long-range missile salvo strategy.”
Madhani turned to Ryan and said cautiously, “Can you please tell the general about the developments?”
Arash Jafari kept his eyes on the floor while Ryan told him about his attempts to entice Gideon and to collect as much information as he could on his research.
“Well then, what are you going to do to get a better picture?” Jamsheedi asked impatiently as he looked coldly at the three.
“Are you aware of the matters that Rustam just described?” Farid asked Madhani.
“Yes, sir,” Madhani said weakly. “We initiated a meeting between senior executives from Communications Technologies and Dr. Ben-Ari. And we’re planning to help Rustam convince the Israeli to continue his research with our funding after his contract with the institute ends,” Madhani said and looked from the general to Ryan.
“This is only the beginning, General Jamsheedi,” Ryan said. “We will have to work hard to convince the Israeli scientist to accept funding from the company in New York.”
“I know that company well,” Jamsheedi thundered. “We have almost full control. We can easily offer greater sums of money, as you well know.”
“The process has only just begun, General Jamsheedi,” Jafari said. “And we’re also trying to learn more about the smart card that seems like an important part of the missile defense system being developed here in America and perhaps in Israel too. We know that the two countries are working on it together.”
“What do you mean, exactly?” The general fired the question at them at lighting speed. “The SC-series cards?”
“Yes, sir,” Arash Jafari said. “Something called the Callnet. We haven’t been able to get our hands on significant data relating to it, but it seems to have something to do with the algorithm being developed by SRI.”
“And what have you done about it?” Jamsheedi continued mercilessly.
“If I may, General,” Ryan said. “I can clarify…”
“Speak!” Jamsheedi barked.
“We’ve made contact with the wife of an Israeli scientist who came here to work on the card. We believe that his wife, Nurit, is the weak link through which we can access intelligence on the card.”
“And what do you know about this woman?” Jamsheedi pressed further.
“She’s a doctoral student at Berkeley, but there’s another interesting angle: she often meets with Dr. Ben-Ari, and they have a romantic relationship,” Ryan added.
“I see that you have enough points to work on,” Jamsheedi said. He had no more patience for talking. “Keep working on your mission, and remember that time is of the essence.” He looked the three men up and down with a knowing look, and only when he saw that his message had been received did he allow himself to smile.
“Did you organize lunch at a Chinese restaurant, Farid?” he asked with composure that surprised Ryan, who wondered how the general could switch moods so quickly.
The man controls his reactions the way he controls his subordinates, he thought, and that could be the secret of his success.
“We booked a table at the Oriental Pearl on Clay Street. It’s not far from here,” Jafari confirmed. “It’s a ten-minute walk. It may do us good to stretch our legs.”
“I know the place,” Ryan added. “It’s well-known for its excellent dim sum.”
Jamsheedi merely nodded his head.
The group that left the apartment looked like any other of the many groups of executives around town. Before they could even reach the stairs, the door to the apartment opposite theirs opened and two young men in matching suits joined them. One walked down the stairs before them while the other stayed at the back.
When he saw Ryan’s questioning eyes, Madhani whispered, “Do you think we’d leave the general in this country without security?”
Ryan joined them for the meal, and when they left the restaurant, Jamsheedi said quietly to Ryan, “We trust you, Rustam, don’t let us down.” Then, without another word, he walked off with Madhani and Jafari, followed by the two bodyguards who maintained a respectable distance. Ryan was left alone with the general’s words echoing in his mind.
23.
Gideon knew he had to fill Deutsch in on the details of the meeting with the investment company. He sat in his office and summarized the points he
wanted to discuss on a piece of paper, as he always did at important crossroads in his life. He still couldn’t stop thinking about his soon-to-end contract with the institute or about his options for the future: to return to Israel, to try to continue at the institute for another period, or to accept Ryan’s offer, which would probably be generous.
He wasn’t interested in returning to Israel. Not yet, in any case. He still hadn’t done all he could in research. And in Israel—well, he’d have to rebuild his career… And Nurit wouldn’t be there.
He walked down the hall to Deutsch’s office, knocked on the door, and Deutsch shouted out to come in. Gideon received a warm look. “Hi, Gideon, what’s up?” Deutsch asked, examining his face.
“I have to update you on recent developments regarding Ryan Davis,” Gideon blurted straight out.
“Shoot!” Deutsch straightened up in his chair.
“The man didn’t lay off for weeks until I agreed to meet with people from an investment company based in New York, and yesterday evening, I met with him and his guests at his Cisco office.”
“Was there a reason to meet in the evening?” Deutsch cut in.
“Odd, right?” Gideon answered. “I thought that maybe Ryan didn’t want other employees to ask him questions. And it looked like he’d made some special arrangement with the guard at the entrance.”
“And the people from New York?”
Gideon gave him a short breakdown of the meeting and then added, “The senior of the two, Dr. Frank Miles, is the VP of projects for a company by the name of Communication Technologies Investments, Ltd. The other man, Edward Richman, is the company’s CFO. They may be American citizens, but from their appearance and accents, I’d say they were of Eastern origin.”
“Eastern as in Southeast Asia?” Deutsch grinned.
“Eastern as in Middle Eastern.”
“Did you promise them anything?”
“I made it clear from the start that they shouldn’t see the meeting as a commitment of any kind on my part,” Gideon said reassuringly.
“You did the right thing, telling me about this development.” Deutsch smiled. “You’re already aware of the security sensitivity…and you know that there are other projects linked to your model.”
“Sure, I’m well aware of that. That’s why I wanted to give you an immediate update,” Gideon said, then added, “I guess Mr. Davis will continue to discuss the matter with me.”
“You should probably get a bigger picture,” Deutsch answered, “and then we can decide together on a careful and safe way to proceed. Can you be here at around three this afternoon? Someone will be here who I’m sure you’ll find interesting.”
“Sure, I’ll be here,” Gideon answered. He left Deutsch’s office wondering why Deutsch always had to be so dramatic. He could have just told me who the meeting’s with.
***
A heavy man of about Gideon’s age with fair hair and gray sideburns sat in Deutsch’s office. He was wearing a made-to-measure business suit with a yellow tie. And Gideon could tell he was Israeli before Deutsch introduced them.
“Gideon, please meet Dr. Yehuda Avni from New Horizons, Ltd.,” Deutsch said, looking from one to the other. “Dr. Avni, Dr. Gideon Ben-Ari, a senior researcher here at SRI. You can speak in Hebrew, but then I won’t understand a word.” He laughed.
Well, well, well. So this is Yudke. Deutsch has no idea what a surprise this is, Gideon thought. He looks nothing like I imagined. I wonder what he knows about me…and if Nuri told him that we met…
“Good to meet you, Dr. Avni,” Gideon said, still shaking his hand. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard of your company.”
“I say we stop with the formalities, Gideon. Just call me Yudke. I’m very happy to meet you here. I guess we’re connected to the same lady,” he said a little too seriously for Gideon’s liking, and Gideon felt his cheeks burning.
“Yes, if you mean Nurit,” he said, smiling and trying to skip lightly over the hurdle. He turned to Deutsch. “Yudke’s wife is an old friend of mine.”
As he shuffled through the papers on his desk, Deutsch decided to lead the discussion to more practical matters by giving them a short explanation of why they were meeting, leaving them to work out the details themselves. Gideon and Yudke listened in silence, examining each other.
“You’ve both advanced to a stage that requires collaboration. It’s time to tell each other what you’re doing.” Deutsch watched them both, enjoying watching the wheels of their minds trying to figure out what they had in common.
Finally, he found what he was looking for: a page bearing the bald eagle emblem of the United States government.
“This is acceptable to both parties.” He waved the document at them. “We have security clearance from Tel Aviv and Washington.”
The phone on his desk broke the silence in the room. Deutsch picked up and exchanged a few words before hanging up.
“I have another meeting, but please, stay here, and now you really can talk in Hebrew.” He laughed again. “Gideon, you know how to use my coffee machine and where I hide my cookies. I’ll join you later,” he said and was out the door.
“Do you know if this room is secure from tapping?” Yudke asked. “It must be,” he answered himself.
“The whole institute is wired to prevent leaks. You can speak freely,” Gideon said, hoping that Yudke wouldn’t bring up personal matters again.
Yudke’s mind was on other things. “Basically, we’re working on expanding existing communication networks that are already overloaded, and the situation is only growing worse. This matter, as you know, occupies many companies around the world. My company in Israel has adopted an idea by a group of youngsters who served with intelligence units. They’ve come up with a simple, effective solution that’s truly innovative. We formed a partnership with their startup and funded them, providing them with both financial and technical abilities.”
“And how did you become involved with New Horizons? Did you form a partnership with them too?” Gideon was intrigued.
“After another year of development, we made an exit of tens of millions of dollars,” Yudke said proudly, “and New Horizons decided we had good prospects. The sales contract included our commitment to stay around and continue working on expanding the solutions capabilities with further development. The beauty of this is that, in the end, it all comes down to a compact smart card that can channel bursts of communication using special timing.”
“That sounds like a distinctly civilian domain,” Gideon noted, “and the developments you mentioned are civilian… How did the Missile Defense Agency find you?”
“The company that bought us has a close connection to the Pentagon. The folks at Missile Defense realized that we had potential that could serve their needs, and our American partners were glad to have a backer to inject funds into the project.”
Yudke stopped for a moment before getting down to business. “Now, Gideon, let’s hear a little about what you do here at the institute. Then we’ll try to understand how the folks up top at the Pentagon and the Israeli Ministry of Defense intend to connect our projects into a single system. What do you say?”
“We deal with software only, and we’ve developed an algorithm that can deal with a large number of simultaneous threats. The software, which is more powerful than anything we’re familiar with, doesn’t need huge computers to run. And that’s what appealed to the Pentagon. We also have a version for civilian use, but the most impressive efforts are for military purposes.”
“But the brain must be connected to sensory systems, or in other words, the end equipment has got to be hardware,” Yudke pointed out.
“Very true.” Gideon was impressed. “And moreover, the algorithm, as smart as it may be, must be connected to a communication system with immense capacity. The system must be unsusceptible to electronic countermeasures and to c
yberattacks too, of course… Is that how our two projects are connected?”
“I think so,” Yudke said.
“If so…” Gideon started, then fell silent, embarrassed.
“What?”
“Okay, but don’t laugh. Do you remember Nachum Gutman’s kids’ book—Lubengulu, the King of Zulu?”
“Sure,” Yudke answered, “I read that. And?”
“Do you remember the story about the lion that frightened the storyteller and his friend, and to save themselves, they climbed up two palm trees? The problem was that one had the bullets while the other had the rifle.”
“And what does that have to do with us?” Yudke asked dryly.
“You have the smart card while I have the algorithm… If we don’t join forces, we can’t protect ourselves from the lion.” Gideon smiled.
“Nice!” Yudke said as the door opened, and Deutsch walked in and sat down.
“You’ve been busy, I see,” he said with a smile. “You didn’t touch the coffee machine–or the cookies.”
“We discovered that to handle the lion, we need to combine the rifle and the bullets,” Gideon answered, and they both burst out laughing while Deutsch tried to figure out the joke.
“We understood how the algorithm and the smart card work together,” Yudke explained.
“Excellent.” Deutsch smiled. “So now you understand why we have orders to keep every part of the system confidential, and more so—how vital confidentiality is to the whole defense system.”
“We have a general idea,” Gideon said, “but somewhat vague. We should find time to work on the interface between the two systems.”
“I feel the same way,” Yudke added.
“Go for it,” Deutsch said. “The ball’s in your court now.”
After saying goodbye to Deutsch and Yudke, Gideon returned to his office and tried to set things in order. The professional side was easy to understand and to categorize. But he could think of no solution to the triangle he found himself in with Yudke and Nurit.