Upfall

Most of Feldhandler's team at Dimona, as well as Yatom's sayeret — except for the youngest single enlisted men-lived in Arad. It wasn't a requirement, but it did make security less problematic. Feldhandler and Mina shared a small house in a district near the city center. Yatom lived in an apartment nearby, as did Brom. Like Yatom, Brom was divorced and lived alone. Mofaz lived in a newer neighborhood called Rananim, with a more suburban feel that suited his large family. Despite their relative proximity in the small city, they did not socialize.

The IAF Blackhawk deposited Mina and Brom at the Arad municipal airport late in the afternoon. From there they took a bus to the city center. Neither felt like switching to another bus at the station.

They decided to walk towards their homes in the sizzling but clean desert air. They'd both missed that air, especially after breathing aircraft exhaust fumes all day. They spoken since they'd left Ramat David, and it's pretty difficult to speak in a military helicopter, so they didn't.

As they walked in silence, it occurred to Brom that they had not eaten since the morning. "Would you like to get something to eat?" Brom asked Mina. "I'm not much of a cook, so I need to eat out or starve."

Mina considered the invitation in her quick but deliberate way. She'd known Brom for two years and she had never taken a meal with him, not even in the miserable Dimona cafeteria. This wasn't exactly a date but the most logical analysis was that he obviously wouldn't have asked if he preferred to eat without her. Besides, she needed to talk to him anyway.

”Beseder" she answered nonchalantly. Then with typical efficiency she noted that there was a Chinese place just around the corner, though she hadn't tried it.

"Tov!" said Brom, as if he were talking to a young officer who had just quickly solved a minor tactical problem. "I-louse of Chin Le, I know it. The food's tasty" he told her quickly, and he might have added, but didn't, cheap.

They drank blistering tea despite the desert heat. Israelis of their generation were not much on booze. The food and drink was indeed good and inexpensive, and put Brom into a better mood.

"How do you like Arad?" he asked her as if she had just arrived. They'd both lived in the city for better than two years. "I like it."

"And your brother?"

"Benny? I don't think he cares at all where he lives" she said between bites, trying to be polite, but also eager to eat. "We've both moved around a lot, especially as our parents passed when we were still young. His home is where his work is, not where he lays his head at night."

"And you?"

Her food was getting cold. Was he flirting, or being polite? She wasn't quite old enough not to care, but she felt that she was close.

"I wouldn't mind settling down here" she said. "What about you" she added as an afterthought, giving her space to chew and swallow.

Brom began a lengthy soliloquy, which didn't seem to be his usual style, but which Mina found agreeable—not least because she was able to start in on a portion of Hunan beef. He liked Arad. It was a change from Tel Aviv where he had lived with his wife until she left him to move to America. His oldest daughter joined the mom, and now was a waitress in Manhattan. His son had just finished his army service and was somewhere in Thailand last he heard.

Finally it was Mina's turn again. She couldn't think of anything except to get back to business, which she needed to do anyway. The little interlude had been nice while it lasted.

"What are the chances do you think, that we'll be able to move forward with Slingshot?“ she asked, keeping her voice down.

Brom gave her a worried look, uncomfortable talking shop openly in the restaurant. But the place was nearly empty, and what were the odds of espionage at House of Chin Lee? Still, surveyed the room before answering.

"We're going to move forward. We wait for authorization" he said.

This she knew already. "But what do you really think are the chances that it will go?"

"After what we heard today, not good. It's possible that Arbel will convince the PM to move forward quickly, just before caving into the Americans."

"A last fling, so to speak" she said.

"If you want to put it that way" Brom said, offering her a wry smile. "But" he continued seriously "don't count on it."

Brom and Mina parted at the restaurant, each setting off on a modest walk home. It was just after 8:00pm. Ten minutes later, Mina reached the small rented house where she lived with her brother. She was surprised to his car already in the drive. She'd often take a bus back from Dimona at a reasonable hour, and leave the car for him.

Feldhandler was sitting at the modernish plastic and metal dining table in their cramped kitchen, nursing a container of yogurt. He looked up, seemingly pleased to see her, but also visibly apprehensive.

"How did it go?" he asked.

She just made a face and sat down. "Let me make you something decent to eat."

"You've eaten?"