Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

the aluminum-coated lead chamber awaited the men like a futuristic

crypt. Three great doors without handles were set in its face.

"Pieter," Horn said softly.

The tall Afrikaner stepped over to an electronic console and flipped a

switch. An alarm buzzer sounded briefly; then, with a sucking sound,

the center door opened a fraction of an inch. A sickly orange-yellow

light dribbled out of the crack. Smuts slipped a hand inside and

pulled. When the door opened completely, the Libyan physicist gasped.

"Go ahead, Doctor," said Horn, "have a look."

Sabri looked shaken. "You don't store the weapon in halves?"

"It's quite safe," Horn assured him. "The core has been temporarily

removed. The weapon can be disassembled with the tools beside it. You

may verify the soundness of the design at your leisure."

Dr. Sabri stepped gingerly into the storage chamber and tiptoed around

the weapon. The blunt-nosed cylinder stood menacingly on its tail fins

like a blasphemous icon. Painted a gleaming black, the bomb bore a

single marking, emblazoned on one of its fins: a rising Phoenix.

The bird's head was turned in profile, its sharp, break screeching, its

single fierce eye wide, its talons enjulfed by red flames. Sabri's left

hand caressed the cool metal of the bomb chassis like a woman's thigh.

Horn watched the Libyans with thinly veiled curiosity. Prime Minister

Jalloud stood well back from the vault, his eyes on the physicist. His

interpreter did the same.

Major Karami stood rigid, his black eyes fixed unwaveringly on the

upended weapon. "Where is the core?" he asked hoarsely.

"The fissile material," Horn replied, "in this case plutonium 239-lies

in a lead vault below ourfeet."

"We must see it."

"I'm afraid you can't actually see it, Major, not without more

safeguards than are available in this room. But you can see its

effects." Horn waved his right hand.

Smuts pressed another button on the console. Instantly a section of the

metal floor to the left of the storage chamber whirred out of sight.

Beneath it lay a lead-lined vault conraining a wooden pallet stacked

with orange fifty-five-gallon drums.

"The plutonium is in those drums?" Jalloud asked, instinctively

stepping back from the gaping vault.

"They're lined with concrete," Horn explained. "We're perfectly safe.

For a short time, anyway. Look while you can. Those drums contain

enough plutonium to turn the State of Israel into a smoking cinder."

While the Arabs made approving noises, Smuts took a small metal box from

a nearby shelf. The box had a long cable dangling from it with some

type of sensor on the end.

When Horn explained that the machine was a portable radiation detector,

Dr. Sabri came out of the chamber and followed Smuts to the edge of the

vault. He watched the Afrikaner lower the sensor until it hung just

above the row of drums. Most modern radiation detectors emit no sound,

but Smuts's "Geiger counter" began to crackle like an untuned radio

dial. All of the Libyans but Sabri drew back in terror. While the

interpreter held both hands protectively over his genitals, the

physicist leaned over to read the instrument.

Major Karami asked, "How can we be sure the drums contain plutonium?"

Horn shrugged. "I have no motive to deceive you. Have I asked you for

any money?"

"You are a rich man," Kararni pointed out. "Perhaps your only goal is

to make our country look foolish in the eyes of the world. In the eyes

of the Zionists."

"Silence, Ilyas!" Prime Minister Jalloud commanded.

Horn smiled knowingly. "My intentions regarding the jews are identical

to your own, Major. You can be sure of that."

Karami looked skeptical. He turned to Dr. Sabri and spoke rapidly in

Arabic. "Could not spent reactor fuel produce this reaction?

Couldn't the instrument be tampered with to produce any desired

reading?"

Already protective of his new toy, Sabri spoke defensively.

"Spent fuel alone would not produce the reaction you see, Major.

The drums contain plutonium."

"You sound very sure of yourself for an inexperienced young man."

"I am the most experienced man you will find in our country!"

"Yes, yes, we know that," Prime Minister Jalloud said, switching back to

English. "Why don't we close the vault now?"

Horn nodded. Smuts pressed the button that hydraulically moved the

lead-lined cover back into place. Angered by Major Karami's skepticism,

Dr. Sabri returned to the bomb chamber. In a few seconds he had the

weapon open for inspection. His eyes glinted like those of a boy over

his first electric train. Major Karami, however, looked far from

satisfied.

"I understand your skepticism, Major," Alfred Horn said.

"And under the circumstances, perhaps you deserve more assurance of my

motives than my word alone." Pieter Smuts shifted uneasily. "If you

gentlemen will join Dr. Sabri,' Horn went on, "I believe I can satisfy

all doubts as to my motives regarding the Jews."

Major Karami stepped quickly into the yellow-lit chamber. Jalloud and

his interpreter reluctantly followed him inside, where they formed a

respectful half-circle around the bomb.

Smuts leaned down and whispered into Horn's ear, "I don't think this is

a good idea."

"Nonsense," Horn said. He buzzed his wheelchair up to the door of the

chamber. "The time for secrecy is past. Remove the decal, Pieter."

With a sigh of frustration the Afrikaner flipped a wall switch, flooding

the storage chamber with fluorescent white light. Then he shouldered

past the Libyans and knelt beside the upended weapon.

Taking a penknife from his pocket, he unfolded a short blade and began

to scrape lightly beneath the flames of the painted Phoenix.

Soon he had pried up a triangle of black polyurethane. He put the knife

back into his pocket, then took the curled edge between his thumb and

forefinger and pulled with a gentle, steady pressure. There was a soft,

adhesive ripping sound as the black decal tore away from the metal fin.

Prime Minister Jalloud gasped.

"Allah protect us," whispered the interpreter.

Dr. Sabri stared in mute wonder.

But Major Karami smiled with wolfish glee. For hidden beneath the black

polyurethane decal was Alfred Horn's true Phoenix design-a blood red

planet Earth clutched in the flaming talons of the Phoenix. And

spanning the red globe-a curved black swastika. Karami's sigh of

satisfaction told Horn that his revelation had produced its desired

effect.

Horn smiled. "It will take the doctor a half hour at least to complete

his inspection. Why don't we,go upstairs and wait in more comfortable

surroundings? Smuts will stay until he has finished."

"An ... an excellent idea," Jalloud stammered Jumah the interpreter

stumbled out of the chamber, his face ashen. He and Prime Minister

Jalloud followed Horn's wheelchair to the elevator at the far end of the

basement lab.

But Major Karami lingered behind. At the elevator Jalloud turned and

watched him. Still only halfway to the elevator, the stubborn major

stood staring back down the length of the lab to the vault where

Sabri-under the watchful gaze of Pieter Smuts-tolled over his deadly

prize.

Horn called, "More questions, Major?"

Karami turned and walked toward the elevator. "What is behind the other

two doors? More bombs?"

Horn's smile faded. "No. I keep only one weapon here.

They're too dangerous."

"More dangerous than raw plutonium?" Karami stepped into the elevator.