Nahbi, p.20
Nahbi, page 20
The President of the United States was briefed by the DNI at 3:00 p.m. Washington time. He was irritated that yet another problem had surfaced. His administration was trying to deflect several embarrassing scandals and his personal popularity was plummeting.
The last thing he wanted to do was to call that egotistical Israeli prime minister to ask if the Israelis possessed technology that surpassed that of the United States. He despised the man and would not give him the satisfaction of even suspecting that the Americans were afraid that Israel had superior technology they had not revealed to their long-time benefactors and defenders. Instead, he would order the Director of the CIA to make discrete inquiries and report what he learned.
Langley, Virginia
3:45 p.m.
Albert Warren Oliver, III was getting ready to leave early when his assistant told him that the president was on the line.
“Good afternoon, sir.”
“Al, I want you to call the Mossad director for me. I need to know if the Israelis have developed an advanced humanoid robot. Bury the question in some routine chit chat. I don’t want him to realize that this could be a big deal. Do it right away and get back to me.”
“Yes sir. I’ll do it now.”
Oliver immediately called the Director of the Mossad on a secure line without taking time to formulate any strategy. It was 3:45 p.m. in Washington but already 9:45 p.m. in Tel Aviv. The duty officer at Mossad headquarters routed the call to the Director’s residence.
“Shalom, Ma Shlomcha, Mr. Oliver,” the Mossad Director said as he answered the incoming call from the American CIA Director.
“And peace to you as well. I am fine. Thank you for asking,” Oliver responded.
“Ma Nishma? What’s up?” asked the Israeli spy chief.
“I’ve been asked to brief the President on the current state-of-the-art in military robotics. I know the Israelis have a very robust R&D program in that area and just wondered if you could bring me up to date on your progress in the development of lifelike humanoid robots that can be used in combat environments.”
The Mossad director despised the American President but he almost pitied the CIA Director who was totally out of his league trying to run one of the world’s foremost intelligence agencies. The Mossad Director knew that Oliver’s nickname was AWOL for absent without leave. He’d been tagged with that nickname by career intelligence officers because he was always off playing golf or jetting around the world on some pretext instead of attending to the CIA’s important issues.
The CIA director’s amateurish approach was almost laughable. The Israeli spy master realized instantly that there was more to the inquiry than a simple state-of-the-art briefing. Oliver had very specifically asked about lifelike humanoid robots that could be used in combat environments. That meant the Americans had reason to believe that someone, possibly the Israelis, had already produced such a device.
“Well, my friend, we are a small nation surrounded by our enemies. So, yes, we have a robust research and development program in the field of military robotics. We have already deployed some unmanned vehicles that can patrol along our borders and report evidence of infiltration. But those things are big and ugly. They certainly don’t bear any resemblance to humans. I’ve heard that one of the executives at Rafael Advanced Defense Systems recently gave an interview where he predicted that one-third of our military machines will be unmanned within ten to fifteen years. But, so far as I know, Israel does not have any lifelike humanoid robots. I would assume if anyone did, it would be you Americans,” the spy master said trying to tease more information from the inept political appointee at the other end of the call.
The CIA Director paused for a moment before he said, “So, would it be accurate for me to tell the President that Israel does not currently possess lifelike humanoid robots?” Oliver’s pathetically naïve question only strengthened the Israeli spy master’s conviction that the Americans knew that such a device existed but did not know who had produced it.
“Yes, that would certainly be accurate. I sense that the United States does not currently have such a device either. Am I correct?” the cunning Israeli asked.
“Well, no. Not to my knowledge,” Oliver answered awkwardly.
“Do you have reason to believe that any other country does? For example, the Brits or the Russians or the Chinese?”
Oliver was out of his rather shallow depth and suddenly admitted that someone did. “Well, we have unconfirmed intelligence reports that some nation may have produced such a device. If true, it would be of concern to us, of course,” Oliver replied.
The Israeli spy master knew that Oliver had lied about their intelligence being unconfirmed. He smiled to himself as he thought, Yes! Someone has produced such a device and the Americans don’t know who it is. That suggests that they are in possession of the device and that its capabilities exceed what their technology is capable of producing. He decided to probe further.
“What about the Brits?” The University of Bristol has a very advanced robotics program. Is it possible that they have developed such a device and not told you about it?”
Oliver took the bait. “Well, no actually. The Brits are the source of the unconfirmed intelligence I mentioned,” he admitted uneasily.
The Mossad director knew he’d hit pay dirt. It was now clear to him that the Brits, almost certainly MI6, and the American CIA were in possession of an advanced humanoid robot and that neither of them knew where it had come from. Very interesting indeed.
Oliver was eager to end the call. He knew he’d said far too much.
“Well, thanks for your help. I have a call coming in from the White House switchboard,” he lied. “It might be the president so I need to ring off.”
“Shalom,” said the Israeli spy master as he hung up the phone and immediately dialed the Prime Minister’s chief of staff to ask for a few minutes of his time at his earliest convenience.
Saturday, May 31st
Aegean Sea
9:10 a.m.
Fredo was a few minutes late to relieve Franco. It was a pleasant morning so Franco had shifted the helm to the flying bridge an hour after sunrise. The navigation display showed that the yacht was on an easterly heading 14 miles north of Rethimnon, Crete. Franco was tired after his watch and eager to go below but Fredo wanted to talk.
“Franco, I’ve never been with a woman. Have you? The fireflies are beautiful women, especially Lia. I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to make love to her. Knowing that she sunbathes nude up here is making me crazy.”
Franco didn’t answer his brother’s question. He didn’t want to tell him that he often made love to a pretty German girl when Fredo was out of the apartment they shared. Fredo’s job of restocking the grocery store’s shelves after midnight provided several hours for Franco and the German girl to make love without interruption. He knew Fredo’s libido would explode if he found out that his older brother had frequent sex.
“Fredo, when we converted to the Muslim faith, we accepted Islam’s strict prohibition against adultery or fornication. Have you forgotten?”
“It’s just not fair! I was only fourteen and only did it to please our mother. Uncle Ghanem has paid these two beautiful women to keep us company. I want to make love to them both, but especially to Lia,” Fredo said in an anguished voice.
Franco thought to himself that Fredo wasn’t the only one with a problem. Persistent images of Teresa lying naked on her back in the afternoon sun were bothering him too. The German girl had always been utterly uninhibited in bed. Yet, she was a simple, uncomplicated girl. She had a pretty face and a lovely body but not so much between her ears. Teresa was different. She was smart and beautiful. He had never wanted a woman as badly as he wanted Teresa.
“Fredo, I understand your frustration. Let me think about it. We can talk again later. Right now, I’m going below.”
When Franco entered the main cabin, Teresa was sitting at the table using her laptop computer.
“Teresa, can I speak to you alone?” Franco asked.
“Sure. Here?”
“No. Let’s go out on the aft deck.”
As she followed him outside, Teresa wondered what Franco wanted to talk about. When they sat down, she could see he was nervous. He kept looking around and wouldn’t make eye contact with her at first. She thought perhaps he was going to tell her that she and Lia could no longer sunbathe nude. She hoped not but couldn’t think of any other reason why he’d be struggling to speak up.
He finally blurted it out. “Fredo wants to make love to Lia. He’s still a virgin and he’s got a bad case of puppy love for her.”
Teresa didn’t know what to say at first. She just looked at him for a moment and then in a low, soft voice said, “Lia won’t refuse.”
“He’s been driving me crazy asking for my permission but he’s a grown man. I don’t want to be his conscience.”
“Well, I’m not Lia’s conscience either and I’m definitely not her pimp. If Fredo wants to make love to Lia, he needs to ask her himself.”
Teresa was surprised that didn’t seem to ease what was bothering Franco. At first, she’d thought he wanted to be sure that it would be OK for Fredo to spend some intimate time with Lia. Then, suddenly, it dawned on her what the strained look on his face meant.
“And you want me, don’t you?” Teresa paused for a long moment before saying quietly, “If you want me, just say so.”
“Teresa, I’ve been with women before but I’ve never met a woman who affected me the way you do. I’ve tried to ignore my feelings but they are real and they won’t go away.”
Teresa took a deep breath before she responded. “You should be careful with that kind of thinking. If you want more than sex, I’m not sure I’d be doing you any favor to make love to you,” she told him as gently as she could.
Franco leaned forward and put his hands on his head. He shook his head slowly back and forth as though he was having a great internal struggle. Finally, he looked up.
“Yes, I do want to make love to you. You are so beautiful that I can’t get you out of my mind. But it’s more than that. I’ve never met a woman as intelligent and self-confident as you are.
“Franco, you’re moving way too fast. You’ve known me less than three days. If you’re horny, fine. We can take care of that. But you shouldn’t imagine you’ve fallen in love with a whore,” Teresa said in an intentionally harsh and vulgar way to emphasize her point.
“Look, Franco, men often propose marriage to me. Some of them may even be serious. But most of them do it simply because they don’t know how to talk to a woman and think I’d be pleased. Some of them are just trying to be nice. Some get carried away by their fantasy visions of a perfect life married to an attractive woman who excites them in bed. They don’t think about all of the more mundane aspects of married life. They certainly don’t think about what I will look like in 30 years. Will they still want me then? Would you?” she asked.
With a strained look on his face, Franco responded. “I don’t agree with everything you just said but I’ll at least think about it. Can we talk again later?”
“Sure, when you’re ready. But I do have a question. If Fredo’s going to start having sex with Lia, they’ll probably want to use our cabin so they can have some privacy. Where can I sleep?”
Franco took a moment to think before he answered. “When I asked Abramo why he and Donatella weren’t using the owner’s cabin, he said Donatella wouldn’t have been comfortable there so she chose one of the two queen-bed guest cabins. That leaves only the owner’s cabin free. You can sleep there when Fredo and Lia need your cabin.”
“Are you sure? Your uncle won’t mind if a firefly has slept in his bed?”
“He’ll never know. I’m sure Abramo would never tell him and neither will Fredo or I. It’ll be OK.”
Teresa went below immediately to tell Lia about her conversation with Franco.
Franco sat thinking for a few minutes and then climbed the ladder back to the flying bridge to talk to his brother.
11:45 a.m.
Fredo was very nervous as he waited for Abramo to take over the helm. He had been thinking about Lia all morning. As soon as Abramo assumed the watch, Fredo went below to shower and dress in clean clothes. Twenty minutes later, he knocked softly on Lia’s cabin door. “Lia, it’s Fredo. Can I come in?”
Lia had been expecting him and opened the door at once.
“Hello Fredo. Come in.”
Fredo stepped into the cabin and stood at the end of the bed as Lia closed and locked the door. He felt awkward and unsure of how to begin. When she turned toward him, he leaned forward and tried to kiss her on her lips. She turned her face aside so he kissed her cheek instead. Lia stood in front of him and whispered for him to be still.
She slowly undressed him. She never took her eyes off his face as she undid each button of his shirt and ran her soft hands over his chest. He felt very self-conscious when he was finally standing naked and fully aroused in front of her but when Lia stepped back and dropped her bathrobe to the floor, her beauty took his breath away.
She knelt in front of him and looked up to see if he was watching her. When her soft hands touched him, he groaned with pleasure and ran his fingers through her hair.
He stayed with her for over two hours until Franco knocked on the cabin door to tell him they’d be entering port soon.
Washington, D.C.
12:20 p.m.
The president was furious. Even alone in his office, he couldn’t admit to himself that Oliver was a problem of his own doing. He’d nominated him for the CIA director’s position as a political reward without properly vetting him. If he had, he’d have known how utterly incompetent the man was as an executive. He buzzed his chief of staff and asked him to join him in the Oval Office.
“Did you read Oliver’s report?”
“Yes sir. It appears that his call accomplished nothing more than to alert the Israelis of the android’s existence.”
“I agree. I certainly did not intend for the bumbling fool to reveal that sensitive fact. I’m beginning to think it was a mistake to nominate Oliver for the CIA director’s job. I’m considering asking for his resignation. What are your thoughts?”
“The timing wouldn’t be good sir. We’re busy trying to deflect multiple scandals and the Chairman of the House Oversight Committee is firing subpoenas at us like he was using a Gatling gun. The latest public opinion polls show further declines in the number of Americans who say you’re doing a good job.”
“What are latest numbers?”
“Your overall approval rating is well below 40 percent in all the major polls. A bigger concern is that several normally friendly newspapers have recently published articles criticizing your foreign policy decisions. With all of that going on, I think asking for Oliver’s resignation might look like you’re trying to find a scapegoat. I recommend waiting.”
“OK. You’re probably right. I’ll deal with Oliver later. When you get back to your office, see if you can get the Israeli prime minister on the secure phone for me. It’s 6:20 p.m. in Tel Aviv so he might already be at home.”
A few minutes later, the president picked up the phone.
“Good evening Mr. Prime Minister, thank you for taking my call. I trust that you are well?”
“Yes, I’m fine, Mr. President. May I ask the purpose of your call? I was just sitting down to dinner.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to keep you from your dinner,” the president said with barely masked sarcasm. “I’m sure you’ve been briefed about a conversation between my CIA director and your Mossad chief.”
“Yes, of course. It seemed of little consequence. Is there more to it?” the Israeli asked.
“I don’t really think so, but some of Director Warren’s hand-wringing Cold War relics are spun up about some unconfirmed intelligence one of their sources came up with. They seem to think Israel might have produced some kind of advanced robotic military weapon. Speaking to you personally seemed the best way to cut through the fog.”
“Mr. President, may I speak freely?”
“Yes, of course. Please do.”
“I am aware that the CIA and MI6 have just completed two days of meetings at MI6 headquarters for the purpose of evaluating a lifelike android that has come into your mutual possession. Your question, and Director Warren’s inquiries, make it clear to me that the android was not produced by either the U.K. or the U.S. and I will tell you without equivocation that it was not produced by Israel either.”
That caught the president by surprise. He hadn’t expected such blunt candor from the normally secretive Israeli prime minister. Reluctantly, he admitted that the Israeli prime minister’s intelligence was accurate.
“Mr. Prime Minister, as usual, the Mossad’s intelligence is impressive. A few days ago, a former American Army officer and his girlfriend discovered the robot. They foolishly kept their discovery a secret for several days before showing it to an MI6 and CIA agent working together on an unrelated matter. I understand the robot’s appearance is superficially human but that it’s actually rather unsophisticated and probably of little or no military value.”
Almost six thousand miles east of Washington, D.C., the Israeli leader wasn’t the least bit surprised by the obvious deception. Lying was one of the few things the American president could be reliably trusted to do. But it didn’t matter. The nation of Israel had survived against all odds by making decisions based on good intelligence.
The previous day, within a few hours of taking the call from the incompetent CIA director, the Israeli spy chief already knew the names of every person who’d attended the briefing in London. He would soon have an electronic file of the meeting’s briefing slides but he had no intention of compromising the Mossad’s sources by revealing that fact to the American president.
