Feldhandler arrived in Tel Aviv by helicopter the next day, May 21. It was a fine, if hot spring day, but Feldhandler was angry at having his professional time wasted. He was also annoyed that he'd missed lunch with Perchensky.
Mina had come with him, even though the Prime Minister refused to accept a briefing from her alone. Well, she would give the briefing anyway, Feldhandler decided. He'd sit by her side like a prop if that's what the government big-wigs wanted. Mina was perfectly qualified to do the job—she was his big sister after all, and almost as bright. If Feldhandler's mother had miscarried him, as almost happened several times, Mina would have become the nation's genius in residence, rather than her kid brother. Not that Mina ever acted as though she were jealous of his successes. She'd been his main encourager, aide, promoter and protector throughout his career.
Mina had blazed a trail through Israel's educational system so that by the time Feldhandler arrived they were ready for him. Likewise, she'd preceded him at Gottingen, and it was there that he finally caught up to her. They received their degrees in theoretical physics together, even though she was two years older. From there Feldhandler launched one of the greatest scientific careers since Einstein, although this was recognized only within a small circuit of Israeli and international experts, while Mina carried his water. She deserved half-a-share of credit for Feldhandler's accomplishments and he alone did not begrudge her. Feldhandler's insights and inventions were the culmination of effort from two extraordinary and sympathetic minds.
But that was not the way the military or scientific community saw it, and so they demanded the presence of one half of the whole, and couldn't care much less about the other. They would get both, figured Feldhandler, whether they liked it or not. In any case, he would give them as little a piece of his mind as possible.
The Prime Minister flew in from Jerusalem for the briefing, which was held at the
Representatives of Israel‘s two primary civilian intelligence services,
Yatom's sarayet comprised commandos who at one time or another were members of the ground forces, air force and navy.
Most, like Yatom, came from the famous
The underground briefing room was modestly crowded when Feldhandler and Mina were ushered in. Feldhandler was given a seat near the center of the massive conference table, while Mina wa shunted off to a chair on the periphery, where a few aides and mid-level officers were seated. In total there were slightly more than two dozen people present. All had been fully vetted and briefed about the Device and the successful mission against Iran the day before.
Feldhandler was happy to see Yatom at the table, also looking uncomfortable. Feldhandler liked Yatom, although he sensed that the grizzled commando did not return the sentiment. Feldhandler knew that in Yatom's world, guys like him just didn't matter. Indeed, Feldhandler got the impression that Yatom felt that way about just about everybody else in the room with the exception of his immediate superior, Brom. Yatom would likely be in line for that job if he survived his current stint.
The Prime Minister began the proceedings in a typical insincere way, congratulating Feldhandler and Yatom for their success on a mission that "may well have saved the State!" He praised the commandos‘ bravery and the technical prowess of the Dimona facility, which had fostered such a success, but he did not mention the Device itself.