The Jerusalem Inception - By Avraham Azrieli Page 0,118
Rabin.
Moshe Dayan stood up. He wore a dusty uniform, and even his trademark eye patch was more gray than black. “I toured the southern front and watched the Egyptians take over the UN monitoring posts. They’re mobilizing for an invasion. War is inevitable. If the Arabs attack first, Israel will be destroyed.”
No one argued with Dayan.
“I think Abba Eban is coming around,” Yitzhak Rabin said. “He told the ministers yesterday: A nation that could not protect its basic maritime interests would presumably find reason for not repelling other assaults on its rights. As the song goes,” Rabin smiled, “Nasser sits and waits for Rabin, and Rabin waits for Eshkol, and Eshkol waits for his cabinet, and the cabinet waits for Eban, and Eban waits for President Johnson!”
The room exploded in laughter, and Rabin beckoned Chief of Operations Ezer Weitzman to take over.
The famed fighter pilot swiveled the pointer with a swagger. “Code name, Mokked,” he announced. “The plan is aimed at capturing air superiority by destroying all Egyptian runways and strafing all their grounded planes.” Weitzman held up a diagram. “Our scientists have designed bombs with delay fuses, set to explode only after penetrating deep into the runways. The damage will take weeks to repair. We have detailed plans of every military airfield in Egypt, Jordan, and Syria, including exact locations, lengths of runways, construction materials, and types of planes kept at each airfield.” He pointed at Chief of Mossad Meir Amit. “I don’t know how your guys got it all, but thank you.”
Elie saw the Mossad chief nod in acknowledgment.
Weitzman went into some details about schedules, risks, and the necessity of acting before the enemy realized what was happening. “This is a first-strike plan,” he concluded. “If the Egyptians attack us first, they’ll destroy Dimona and all our airfields. What I need is a green light for a preemptive strike.”
“Call Eshkol,” someone said.
“What about detection?” General Arik Sharon shoved a piece of cake into his mouth, but continued speaking with a mouthful. “Our planes will be in the air for at least a half-hour, right? Won’t the Egyptians notice us? And scramble their jets to meet us?”
“They’re practically blind,” Weitzman said. “The Soviets gave them the best weaponry, but the most primitive radars.”
“Ever since Prague,” the Mossad chief, General Amit explained, “the Soviets are careful not to provide their client-states with defensive measures that could hamper a Soviet attack, should the friendship turn sour.”
“But still,” Arik Sharon said, “the Egyptian forces along the Sinai border could notice our planes and alert the airfields inland. How will you avoid that?”
“By flying fast and low,” Weitzman said, but Elie could tell he was not telling the whole truth.
The chief of Mossad stood, which brought immediate quiet to the room. “Timing is key. By the time an Egyptian soldier notices a couple of planes pass overhead and makes the decision to bother his direct commander, our pilots will be close to their targets. The hierarchical nature of the Egyptian army means that a warning from a junior officer in the front would have to climb up rung by rung all the way up to headquarters. And it won’t make an impression unless many other such sightings are reported simultaneously. By then, even if the Egyptian generals realize what’s happening and send orders down to each airfield, they’ll be too late. Our pilots will have already hit their respective targets.”
“But there’s a weakness,” Weitzman said.
“Correct.” The chief of Mossad glanced at Rabin. “The new radar system at the UN Middle East headquarters at the Government House is the most powerful ground-based radar America makes. It sits on the highest piece of land in the region and is powerful enough to track our jets from the moment of takeoff and all the way over Sinai and the Mediterranean. They’ll see our pilots take off, and General Bull could call President Nasser directly and tell him the radar is tracking two hundred and thirty Israeli jets heading south. Nasser would shoot orders down to the bases, and all their planes will take off just in time to give our boys a deadly welcome.”
Arik Sharon said, “What about cutting off the electrical power to Government House?”
“The UN has its own generators and gasoline depot behind the radar station.” The Mossad chief must have anticipated Sharon’s next question, adding, “And no, Arik, you may not attack the UN Mideast headquarters.”
Sharon grinned. “You have a better option?”
“Our technical experts are looking into jamming as an option, but it