Ted Bell - Phantom

Elon was on high alert now, casting his eyes in all directions, looking for anything even slightly out of place. Guests had arrived an hour earlier and had been served breakfast in the lobby of the Administration Building. They were now being seated on folding chairs in the tented shade.

Between the two tents was a dais, decorated with blue-and-white bunting. Armed IDF security men surrounded it.

At the appointed hour, eight men, including the air force chief of staff, climbed the staircase and took their places at the long rectangular table. The dais, fortunately, had been constructed in the shade of the large hangar. It was blisteringly hot in the morning sun, but the man who rose and stood behind the podium didn’t know the meaning of the word sweat. He was one of the most highly decorated men in the Israeli military. He made other people sweat.

He tapped the microphone twice and then spoke, the timbre of his voice a deep baritone that conveyed the wartime experience and authority that had made him a true hero in his country.

“Good morning and welcome. Many of you here, our distinguished and honored guests, know me. For those who don’t, I’m General Ari Ben-Menashe, chief of staff of the Israeli Air Force. I am sorry it’s a little warm out here, so I’ll keep this short. I know why you’re here and it’s not to hear speeches. With me on the dais this morning are the lead aeronautical engineers and scientists responsible for what you are about to witness. I’m honored to be in their company. For what they have created is a weapon that promises to tip control of the skies in Israel’s favor for years to come. Aerial war fighting will never be the same, and these gentlemen are the reason. Let’s give them the appreciation they so deeply deserve.”

There was authentic applause, and the general continued.

“This project was initiated some two years ago at my direction and with the prime minister’s approval. It is called the ‘Raptor Project.’ And the results are inside the hangar behind me, waiting patiently to be unveiled. Open the hangar doors, please.”

The heavy aluminum doors parted and slid slowly open along their tracks. The crowd on both sides leaned forward and tried to peer inside, hoping for a first glimpse. But the lights were deliberately left off, and all they could see was a strangely shaped silhouette, big and black and threatening.

The general let the suspense build a bit (his job, after all, entailed not a little showmanship) and then leaned into the microphone and said, “Ladies and gentleman, the next generation of airborne war-fighting machines… the Raptor X!”

As the brilliant arc lights inside the hangar roof snapped on, illuminating the new weapon that stood like some futuristic insect, black and menacing, people literally gasped, the aircraft’s looks were so startling. Especially the downturned nose, which resembled nothing so much as a hawk’s beak. But the sound of its two powerful engines at the tail exploding to life and the sight of the massive thing slowly moving forward into the sunlight was awe-inspiring.

“Stop! Stop!” the general barked at the machine with a smile.

The Raptor X braked to a halt directly between the two tents, and the engines quickly decreased the painful decibel level as they went to idle.

“You see, it, unlike many, listens to the voice of authority.”

The crowd laughed loudly. And out came the cell phones, everyone snapping photographs of the airplane with them.

The ramrod-straight air force officer standing next to Elon grabbed his elbow roughly and whispered fiercely in his ear.

“You allowed these people to come in here with fucking cell phones?”

“No! Of course not. They were to be told at the security checkpoint to leave all cell phones with the officer in charge.”

“Well, goddamit, they didn’t do that, did they? You get in that vehicle right there, son, and get your ass over to security checkpoint. You tell those sons of bitches that Major Lev Rabin wants everybody leaving this facility to be relieved of their phones until every damn picture of this airplane is deleted. You got that? Go!”

Elon started to turn for the Toyota truck parked outside the hangar, then turned back to the major.

“Major, what about the people who are e-mailing pictures from their phones now? Shouldn’t we tell the general to make an announcement saying-”

“Saying we screwed up? I don’t think so, son. Now get your ass over to that checkpoint!”

Elon got into the Toyota and hauled ass out of there.

“The future of military aviation… is now!” the general continued, and his audience was on its feet applauding this bizarre yet exquisitely designed machine, its futuristic silver fuselage now gleaming brilliantly in the desert sun. Indeed, it did look like something out of the distant future. It looked, as someone said, like “something out of this world!”

It was a curvy bat-shaped flying wing with a fifty-foot wingspan. There was no tail at the rear to disrupt its flowing lines. It was easily the size of a modern stealth fighter jet but lacked another common feature of conventional craft.

It had no cockpit.

Where the pilot would normally sit was a scowling black slit of a mouth, obviously the primary air intake.

The smiling general, proud of his baby, waited for the applause to die down.

He said, “In case you hadn’t noticed, this is a historic moment in aviation. Historians will rank it along with Lucky Lindbergh’s solo crossing of the Atlantic and Neil Armstrong’s giant leap for mankind. Raptor X represents a dramatic breakthrough in aerial combat. It is the world’s first full, fighter-sized robotic stealth jet. No pilot, no ground control. A combat ceiling of one hundred thousand feet. Speed, Mach 4. You upload a mission to the Raptor’s onboard computer systems and the aircraft runs the entire mission on its own. From takeoff, through the mission itself, and then landing, all without any human intervention at all.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Raptor X will now execute a bombing run in the desert. Free of any human interaction, it will operate completely autonomously. It has been preloaded with a simple mission: take off, destroy the concrete bunker on that distant hilltop with one of its four bunker-buster bombs, and circle around for a landing. It will then taxi back to this location where it will officially be made operational and welcomed into service in the Israeli Air Force. Binoculars have been distributed for those who would like to use them during the flight.”

The Raptor X’s monstrous twin turbofan jets spooled up once more, and the excruciating roar made many of those present cover their ears. A moment later it lurched forward and began its roll, accelerating so rapidly that it seemed to literally disappear down the runway. Then it was visible lifting off and climbing almost vertically into the clear blue sky, the sun glinting off its wings. It executed a few barrel rolls before leveling off. Then it was streaking straight toward the target.

Those with binoculars could actually see the bomb released from beneath the fuselage and scoring a direct hit on the hilltop bunker. The resulting explosion shook the desert floor and a giant red-orange fireball climbed into the sky followed by a plume of black smoke and massive chunks of debris. As the smoke cleared, driven by desert winds, it was apparent that the entire top half of the hill was now gone along with the bunker that had stood there seconds earlier.

The cheering crowd broke into applause, all straining to keep their eyes on the maneuvers of the silver streak in the distance.

The robotic stealth fighter suddenly went into a vertical climb. Standing on its tail, it accelerated like a shuttle launch shortly after leaving the pad at Cape Kennedy.