The Last Israelis - an Apocalyptic, Military Thriller about an Israeli Submarine and a Nuclear Iran

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The Last Israelis - an Apocalyptic, Military Thriller about an Israeli Submarine and a Nuclear Iran Page 17

by Noah Beck


  “And we were all so impressed by how well he did it, that he had to perform it a few more times later that week and over the years,” Yisrael added.

  “And we would soon discover that he knew the lyrics to just about every Michael Jackson song in existence, so ‘Moonwalk’ was the perfect nickname for him,” Eitan concluded.

  “Funny. So how did Samir get the name ‘Blitz?’”

  “Oh that one’s even funnier,” Eitan said. “One time Samir had just left the engine room before one of the other engineers had come by to inspect something. Minutes later, the poor guy sounded the evacuation alarm, thinking that there was some kind of dangerous chemical leak in the room. But after a quick investigation, and because the smell seemed to follow Samir around, the crew realized that the toxic chemical leak reported in the engine room was just Samir’s fart. It was the ultimate stealth blitz.” Everyone in the medic room burst into laughs.

  Bao provided the summation: “So we sometimes joke that our sub can vaporize a city, but Samir can vaporize our sub.” More laughs.

  “That’s hilarious. So what about Ambesah? Why is he sometimes called ‘Noah?’”

  Eitan explained: “Well, he once said to a group of us that ‘It’s a shame there are no women on board because then we’d sort of have a Noah’s Ark, if there’s ever a doomsday scenario.’ And we thought it was hilarious that this was the reason he wanted women on the submarine.”

  Jacob reinforced the point with some raillery: “I still don’t get what was so funny about him saying that. I mean, the only reason that I would want Clarice on this ship with me is so that we’ll have two of a kind when the flood comes.”

  “H…How are you two of a k…kind? Sh…She’s French-Israeli and you’re Ind…Indian-Israeli!”

  “Don’t get technical on me, Zvi! She should be on this sub with me so that if God ever decides to destroy the earth again and we are the only survivors washed up on – what’s the name of the mountain?”

  “Mount Ararat,” Yisrael answered.

  “Right, Ararat. When our little ark called the Dolphin ends up on Mount Ararat after God destroys the world, then – and only then – will my Clarice come in handy as we start the next generation of French-Indian Israeli mutts.” Everyone shared a laugh.

  “And what about your nickname?” Boutrous asked Eitan.

  “It’s not really a funny story, but it makes sense. Zvi, you want to tell him?”

  “W…We call him ‘Tahdig’ sometimes because he’s got m…mad Persian cooking skills! One time the cook was sick, sss…so Eitan took over and he cooked all these d…dishes, and they were sss…so good that we asked the captain to make Ei…Eitan the cook from now on…And his Tahdig was everyone’s favorite.”

  “It’s crispy rice from the bottom of the pot. But he learned it all from his mother, so she should really get the glory,” Bao added.

  “Yeah, one day you’ll come over for her food,” Eitan said to Boutrous.

  “And calling Eitan ‘Tahdig’ serves another important purpose,” Yisrael noted.

  “And what’s that?” Eitan asked in amused suspense about his own nickname.

  “It reminds us that you’re the honorary Persian on board.”

  “Ha. Indeed, a proud Persian – who even has distant cousins still in Tehran.”

  “Right,” continued Yisrael. “So if we ever receive an order to nuke Tehran, we should really check with you first.” The group chuckled.

  “OK,” Boutrous said, turning to Jacob. “And why does the crew sometimes call you ‘Brooklyn?’”

  “Be…Because he’s obsessed with Brooklyn,” Zvi explained.

  “I don’t know if I would call it an obsession – maybe more like a fascination…I’ve always wanted to live there.”

  “J…Jacob will randomly int…introduce Brooklyn whenever he can.”

  “Like how?” Boutrous asked.

  “L…Like when I once told him th…that I liked the rapper Jay-Z, he…he said, ‘Oh yeah, he’s from Br…Brooklyn.’”

  Yisrael shook his head in dismissive disbelief. “For the life of me I will never understand why you’re so infatuated with Brooklyn. Especially since I actually lived there for a year, when I was younger.”

  “They have a subway,” Jacob explained.

  “S...So does Paris – ask Cl…Clarice,” Zvi said with a smile.

  “And in Brooklyn the subway smells like urine and the trains run late, if they come at all,” Yisrael added. “They produce ear-splitting screeches whenever they brake. And there are rats running along the tracks all the time.”

  “I find that kind of grit interesting,” Jacob replied.

  “The novelty wears off pretty quickly once you’re actually living there.”

  “And Brooklyn has winter,” Jacob persisted.

  “If you want to freeze your balls off, be my guest,” Bao chimed in.

  “Winter’s not so great when you’re actually outside,” Eitan agreed. “Our family took a trip to London in February a few years ago, and we couldn’t wait to get back home.”

  “But Brooklyn also has that cool urban lifestyle,” Jacob continued, undeterred.

  “You mean ghetto thugs hanging out on a corner?” Yisrael clarified.

  “That was probably just your neighborhood. It’s a really high-quality place – all of these famous people come from Brooklyn – people like Michael Jordan and –”

  “Michael Jordan?! He grew up in North Carolina and then played for the Chicago Bulls,” Yisrael rejoined.

  “Yes, but he was born in Brooklyn.”

  “See what I mean about Jacob?” Eitan exclaimed in amused disbelief. “I mean, do you know anyone else who’s so dedicated to a city he’s never been to that he memorizes the celebrities who were born there?”

  There were some more laughs but Jacob couldn’t be stopped. “Look, you can’t deny that Brooklyn has a certain allure to it. And it’s not just Michael Jordan’s birthplace. Lots of celebrities come from there. You’ve got Larry David. Chris Rock, and –”

  “Oh yeah, and they’ll be there at the airport, to greet you and invite you over for dinner. Just wait,” Bao replied sarcastically.

  “Let’s face it, Jacob. It’s not Brooklyn. It’s the USA,” Yisrael theorized. “You just want to live in a big, safe country with no problems.”

  “Yeah,” Bao agreed. “Where the daily headlines are about firemen saving cats from trees. And not about Hamas firing more rockets at civilians in Sderot for no reason.”

  “That’s ridiculous. The USA has major problems too,” Jacob objected.

  “Of course they do,” Yisrael replied. “But they are massive in population, land mass, and resources. They’re protected by two oceans. And who are their scary neighbors? Canada and Mexico. It’s the richest country on earth. And they’re the undisputed superpower of the world. So how bad can their problems really be?”

  “What about 9/11?” Jacob asked.

  “It was terrible,” Yisrael said. “I mourned when it happened, and I cheered when they killed Bin Laden. But as awful as 9/11 was, you can’t compare it to what we have to deal with in Israel.”

  “Uh, oh. I think the Professor is about to school everyone with some statistics,” Bao said, teasing Yisrael. “Come on, give us the numbers. Or should I do it?”

  “Well, this is your favorite topic. And it sounds like you want to do the honors.”

  “If you insist,” Bao replied. “So, Jacob, before you compare terrorism in Israel to America’s 9-11, remember that in Israel we’ve had over 150 suicide attacks by Palestinians since the 1993 Oslo Peace Accord with them. Those attacks killed about 1,500 people and injured another 17,000. Now, if you adjust for the size of the US population, that’s over 50,000 Americans killed and over 650,000 injured – the equivalent of about thirteen 9-11s.”

  “Wow. I guess I never looked at it that way...”

  “Let’s face it, Jacob – life is easier in America,” Yisrael continued with his original p
oint. “Safety, comfort, and incredible opportunity. It’s not about Brooklyn. It’s about the USA.”

  “Maybe. But I still want to try living in Brooklyn for a while,” he insisted with a smile.

  Chapter 25: Communication Problems

  Even without an accident that might have affected a submarine’s mission-critical systems, there were countless checks to be performed before being able to sail with confidence. In the absence of any specific cause for concern, such as an accident, the extent and thoroughness of those checks depended on mission-related time pressures, external threats, and – more generally – the captain’s instincts. But after an accident like the one that the Dolphin had just survived, Daniel would become hyper-vigilant and have each department check its systems at every possible opportunity.

  The last mission instructions from headquarters had been received about 4.5 hours before the Dolphin’s accident occurred and had ordered the submarine “to proceed as swiftly as possible to its position of strategic deterrence, and remain there in a state of maximum readiness to respond to any attack.” Given that the same message also mentioned suspicious military movements in Iran, Syria, Lebanon, and Gaza, suggesting an imminent attack, Daniel could not have been more anxiously impatient about sailing full speed towards the position of strategic deterrence that the ill-fated Leviathan had occupied. However, there was no sense in advancing further into hostile waters if the Dolphin was going to malfunction in a way that left it militarily impotent. If the weapons systems weren’t functioning properly, or the navigational or sonar systems were inaccurate, or if the crew itself could no longer perform its duties because the life support systems failed to produce enough breathable air, then the Dolphin would become easy prey in carnivorous waters.

  After the Dolphin’s accident-related rapid descent to almost 400 meters, Daniel brought the vessel to a comfortable depth of 50 meters. Because there was no traffic in the area at the time, it seemed like a good place to conduct some important checks before moving farther along their planned course, so he decelerated the submarine’s speed to one knot. He spent about an hour overseeing the testing of the systems that were most likely to have been damaged and that were particularly important to the submarine’s operation.

  By 8:30 a.m. on the Dolphin’s 25th day at sea, the stealth ship resumed its usual cruising speed of five knots, and Daniel set a course towards the Strait of Hormuz, with a projected position of 24.69"N, 58.62"E in the next 20 to 24 hours. Rigorous testing of all systems in all departments continued.

  A few minutes into their normal cruising speed, Ambesah had some bad news: “Sir, we just ran the self-test again and the communication buoy still isn’t working properly.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “It looks like the cover won’t open to release the buoy. Still investigating, Sir.”

  Ambesah’s team had spent the last hour fixing the electrical problems causing the cable release engine not to respond when activated. But Ambesah and his team would learn that the stubborn communication buoy failure was occasioned by multiple and independent problems that each needed to be addressed. The second impediment, they discovered, was the fact that the cover to the compartment releasing the buoy wouldn’t open because of a hydraulic problem. After that issue was resolved by changing an oil valve, they encountered the final obstacle: one of the circuit cards in the communications switchboard was defective and had to be replaced with a new one.

  After four hours of problem solving that required a variety of diagnoses and repairs, each of the systems controlling the communication buoy was ready for a new self-test. This time the systems all passed the tests.

  “Sir, the communication buoy is now functioning and ready for deployment.”

  “Release the buoy now.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Daniel was eager for an update from headquarters, particularly because it had been about ten hours since the last briefing and three hours since he was supposed to check for more information concerning a possible imminent attack on Israel. Ambesah’s team sent the buoy to the surface within minutes and waited for a signal. Nothing. Daniel instructed them to keep waiting, hoping that with a little more patience they would receive something. But the wait was in vain.

  The persistent foreboding in Daniel’s gut had troubled him since the moment Rafi unexpectedly ordered him to cut their drill short for a quick family picnic before a long mission at sea. Suddenly, that nagging, hazy dread that had lingered in his bowels intensified into a sharp ache in his stomach, as it churned and mulled some of the worst-case scenarios that might explain the absence of any communication from headquarters.

  Trying to stay cool, Daniel resolved not to reach any conclusions or share his worst fears with anyone else until first trying to reach naval command from periscope depth. After all, the communication buoy had suffered from multiple problems and might still be unreliable in some respect. Maybe a message was indeed waiting for them to retrieve by using the more dependable satellite or high frequency radio communication options at their disposal. So Daniel’s top priority became safely rising to periscope depth while continuing vigorous system checks. But now that it was the middle of the day, he figured it would probably be at least 12 hours before the sea traffic in the busy Gulf of Oman would clear up enough for the Dolphin to rise safely to periscope depth. From 1300 to 1500 hours, the captain would finish checking some critical systems and review all of the repairs made in the weapons department. After that, he would eat a quick meal and get a much-needed seven hours of sleep, because he had slept just a few hours before the accident woke him up for continuous tension and troubleshooting that lasted nearly eight hours.

  Meanwhile, Samir, who had been working continuously under high stress from the moment of the accident through the five hours of systems-testing that were required afterwards, finally took a break at 1300 hours. His head was aching from all of the pressure, and he hadn’t eaten in over six hours. He headed towards the crew’s quarters, which had already been converted from bunks into dining tables, where Ambesah, Yisrael, and Michael were eating lunch.

  When Samir smelled the inviting aroma wafting towards him, he knew that the cook had prepared an extra delicious meal to celebrate the crew’s successful efforts to save the ship. There was salmon Dijon, basmati rice, and a variety of dips and salads. No spirits were allowed on board but there was effervescent cider and non-alcoholic malt beer. Samir picked up his food from the kitchen and brought it to the table.

  Michael noticed Samir approaching and raised his glass. “A toast to the man of this mission,” he declared. Ambesah and Yisrael raised their glasses to show their respect.

  “Come on guys, you know it was all a team effort,” Samir said, sitting down at the table next to Ambesah and across from Michael and Yisrael.

  “Yes, but you had the glory of fixing the last thing that could have killed us,” Ambesah pointed out with a smile.

  “In that case, we should make a toast to our Dolphin’s pumps, because they did all the work,” Samir replied, as he started eating. “I just got them to obey orders again.”

  “Well, thank God you knew how to make them obey so soon, because I don’t think anyone else could have done it that fast,” Michael insisted before taking another bite.

  “You make it sound like I had nothing to gain from solving the problem,” Samir joked. “Are you forgetting that I would have been as dead as you had I failed?”

  “Fair enough. OK, enough glory for now. But I reserve the right to sing your praises again if you keep saving our lives.”

  Samir chuckled. “Agreed.”

  Towards the end of his meal, Samir’s tone became a little heavier: “Say, are any of you guys worried about the fact that we haven’t had any update from headquarters in about nine and a half hours?”

  “Daniel hasn’t said anything about it,” Michael noted.

  “I know. And that’s what bothers me. Like maybe he’s keeping something from us so we don’t g
et distracted. Ambesah, you should know about this stuff more than anyone. Was there an update that he didn’t share with us?”

  “No. There was nothing. I swear. In fact, we just worked on fixing the communication buoy problems for about four hours. We finally got it working, but didn’t receive anything. We waited for thirty minutes, but there was nothing.”

  “Nothing is a very bad sign,” Samir replied.

  “I think you’re being a little paranoid,” Yisrael replied. “Ambesah just said that they spent four hours repairing the defective communication buoy, so it’s hardly a reliable piece of equipment.”

  “Yes, but it was working in the end. We tested it.”

  “OK, but you still can’t know for certain that the communication buoy is working properly until you try satellite and HF radio. If you still don’t get a message using those methods, then you can probably conclude that the buoy is fine and something happened to naval command.”

  “Aren’t you even a little worried?” Samir asked Yisrael, with a touch of annoyed impatience in his tone.

  “No. I don’t see the point of worrying before we have all of the facts. And before reaching drastic conclusions, facts are even more important. So let’s just wait and see.”

  “But we have some facts,” Samir insisted. “We already know from the last update that IDF intelligence detected suspicious military movements by Iran, Syria, and Hezbollah and that they think an attack is imminent.”

  “Do you know how many times there have been suspicious movements by those forces in the past that were then followed by a massive nothing? I lost count a long time ago and stopped getting excited by such things. Besides, you’re forgetting that Iran, Syria, and Hezbollah are all controlled by leaders who ultimately want to survive. Starting a war with us is not a great way to survive.”

  “I disagree,” Michael chimed in. “Some of these leaders might actually see the destruction of Israel as part of their survival strategy.”

 

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