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

by Noah Beck

  Nevertheless, as much as Yisrael wanted to stop Daniel, even physically if necessary, he understood that such a showdown with the captain would not end like the last one regarding his wife, Netta, did. Here, they were operating under the traditional military rules and command structure, no matter how much he tried to argue otherwise. Here, Daniel had a pistol and a majority of crewmembers passionately on his side.

  Yisrael thought about somehow trying to sabotage the crew’s operation of the submarine, or otherwise blocking their ability to effect the decision they had just reached. But, he admitted to himself, doing so would be undermining the very collective will that he had so ardently insisted be respected. Was he a man of principle only when it suited him? “No,” he concluded to himself. “There’s no point in resisting any longer. I’ll just state my closing remarks on the matter.”

  Yisrael stepped up to Daniel and unfastened the top buttons of his shirt. “I cannot live on an earth that allowed this to happen. But I also cannot be a part of the only response left to us,” he said, removing from around his collarbone the ball-bearing necklace to which was attached his nuclear missile launch key. “I understand it, and a part of me supports it, but I cannot be a part of it. You’ve been a good captain, Daniel. Goodbye.” Yisrael handed his missile key over to Daniel and left the area.

  “Set a northwesterly course.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Boutrous replied.

  “Maintain speed at five knots.”

  “Y…Yes, Sir,” Zvi said.

  While the Dolphin continued moving in the general direction of their attack position, Daniel needed to decide on the precise targets, as this would determine exactly how much farther they had to travel to put those marks within their missile range. Once he knew the number of kilometers left, he could calculate exactly when they could begin to travel at up to four times their current speed to reach their attack destination. Because they had just replenished their air supply, there would be enough battery to power such a sprint. There was no obvious place for the Dolphin to go after its missile launch, so preserving the battery to avoid subsequently having to get more air at a dangerously crowded, high-traffic moment was no longer such a concern.

  Given how democratically they had reached their decision to attack, Daniel thought it was also appropriate to have a brief discussion regarding the list of second-strike targets that the Israeli security cabinet had developed, and which had not changed in over a year. He turned the intercom back on. “If I can have your attention again, I’d like to discuss the target list with you. Like all of you, I would prefer to complete our mission with the fewest number of innocent civilian deaths.”

  Bao, who was standing nearby in the combat control center, replied over the same intercom audible to the whole crew: “But how many cities do you need to nuke before you’ve delivered enough punishment for the destruction of your entire country, Sir?”

  “Our purpose is not only to punish. We also want to achieve some greater good with our punishment. This way, our last act will have at least helped the world to eliminate this particular threat. Therefore, I believe that we should respect the preferred target list already determined by the Israeli security cabinet. That list requires that we fire nine nuclear missiles at nine of Iran’s nuclear facilities and one nuclear missile at Tehran, which is the location of the Iranian regime’s power center. Tehran is also home to a research nuclear reactor and the METFAZ facility, where scientists develop explosives for nuclear detonators that are tested at the Parchin site. Unfortunately, the missile targeting Tehran will probably kill hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of civilians, but the other nine strikes should kill far fewer people because the nuclear facilities are in less populated areas. Syria does not need to be attacked. That country has already self-destructed enough from civil war. And it will get plenty of the nuclear fallout from the attack on Israel because of its proximity, as will Gaza. Neighboring Lebanon also will get a huge amount of nuclear fallout and will soon be embroiled in a bloody civil war, so there’s no point in retaliating there either. So our entire arsenal of nuclear missiles will be used to hit ten Iranian targets, all of which are within 1,500 kilometers of Bandar Abbas. There are some additional sites connected to Iran’s nuclear program but we have only ten nuclear missiles. So our warheads will be used on the top ten preferred targets, and that should be enough to massively damage Iran’s nuclear capability.”

  Daniel then read from a printout that listed the nine preferred targets other than Tehran, and what the role of each was in Iran’s nuclear program: “Arak – heavy water plant, Bushehr – nuclear power station, Isfahan – uranium conversion plant, Natanz – uranium enrichment plant, Parchin – nuclear weapons development facility, Fordo – uranium enrichment plant, Gachin – uranium mine, Ramsar – research nuclear reactor, and Bonab – development of nuclear weapon delivery systems.”

  Daniel looked up from the list and surveyed his crew to see if anyone had any objections or comments. “Let me know if you would like to make any comment about the target list before it is finalized.”

  “Sir, I would like to comment,” Boutrous said into the intercom. “They destroyed Jerusalem – the holiest city in the world to Jews and Christians for the last two thousand years. So now, there is no more Church of the Holy Sepulchre for over a billion Christians. And no more Temple Mount for the seven million remaining Jews. So maybe we should destroy Mecca, the city holiest to Muslims, as part of our retribution. Maybe that will also benefit the world by putting an end to radical Islam.”

  Ambesah came on the intercom: “I disagree, Sir. There will always be extremists, from every religion, and in support of every cause. Mecca is definitely not the cause of Islamic fundamentalism, and destroying that holy city will probably only promote more extremism.”

  Daniel responded by intercom: “Agreed. The vast majority of Muslims are not violent extremists and Mecca gives their lives more spiritual meaning. The billion Muslims of the world had nothing to do with the decisions of the Iranian regime, so why should we punish them? And remember that Jerusalem is the third holiest city in Islam, so the Muslim world has already lost something precious because of the fanatical regime in Iran. Lastly, don’t forget that Mecca is in Saudi Arabia, a country that hasn’t attacked Israel since 1948. Your request is denied, Boutrous. The target list is now finalized and we will proceed towards our attack point at full speed. Set a course to Bandar Abbas.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Boutrous replied.

  “Increase speed to twenty knots.”

  “Y…Yes, Sir,” Zvi said.

  Chapter 39: The Nightmare

  About two-and-a-half hours later, Boutrous updated Daniel: “Sir, in about ten minutes we’ll reach our attack position of 27 degrees 09 minutes North, 56 degrees 26 minutes East.”

  “Bao, prepare the weapons team for a nuclear missile launch. Yisrael will not be participating. I have his key to unlock the nuclear missile arsenal, so I will assume his duties as well, so that you and I together will handle all officer steps involved in the launch sequence.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Meanwhile, by the crew’s quarters, Yisrael went into his private storage bin and removed three items: the printout of his grandfather’s diary, a bucket, and a noose that he had prepared from some rope on the submarine. The deputy captain took these things with him to the bathroom. Yisrael placed his grandfather’s diary by the sink and washed his hands thoroughly. He took a moment to reread a short passage that he had underlined: “When I was reduced to skin spread on bones, a dazed fugitive hounded by the dogs of evil, and my unlikely existence continued only because of the humanity of kind strangers, I realized that our humanity is all we have and all that illuminates an otherwise dark world.”

  The deputy captain then placed the bucket under the showerhead. He stepped onto the bucket and tied the noose to the showerhead. Yisrael placed the noose around his neck and then, with his left foot, pushed the bucket to the side so that it no longer supported his
weight. His body dangled lifelessly, but his hands were clean.

  In the combat control center, Bao spoke to his team in order to prepare them psychologically for the final steps: “Once Daniel and I have unlocked the nuclear missile arsenal with the three keys, and Daniel gives the final launch order, ‘Fire and Forget’ is the only way for you to do it. No hesitation. Just go through the launch sequence as if you were firing any other kind of torpedo. If you feel any qualms holding you back, remember that we were just attacked with nuclear and chemical warheads from Iran and Syria, and with countless conventional warheads from Iran, Syria, and Iran-backed Hezbollah in Lebanon, and Iran-backed Hamas and Islamic Jihad in Gaza. Six to seven million Israelis are dead and we have no more country. After a long debate, the crew voted to retaliate. Daniel selected the preferred targets. These targets were already carefully chosen by the security cabinet of the last democratically elected Israeli government. They focus on eliminating Iran’s nuclear threat rather than on maximizing civilian casualties. So that’s what we’re doing, and there’s no going back now. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” the three men under his command responded, in unison.

  Daniel arrived with Yisrael’s key in his left hand and his own key ready to be used in his right hand. “Commence nuclear missile launch sequence,” he commanded.

  “Yes, Sir,” Bao replied. He inserted his key into the lock securing the nuclear missile arsenal and turned it.

  Using his right hand, Daniel put in his key and turned it. He then used his left hand to insert Yisrael’s key. He tried to turn Yisrael’s key but it seemed to be jammed. The captain struggled with it a bit more, applying more force but was unable to turn it. “A simple, jammed key thwarts our entire mission, after overcoming so many challenges to come this far? After struggling with the decision as long and hard as we did?” Daniel said to himself as he tried to turn the key harder. “That would be absurd.”

  Determined as ever, Daniel added his right hand to his struggle with Yisrael’s key, and used both of his hands to grasp the jammed key even more firmly. “This can’t be happening,” he thought to himself. He further strained himself to turn the key with both hands, summoning all of his strength. As the metal key stubbornly pressed into his index finger bone rather than budge, he asked himself in disbelief, “Am I in a dream?”

  ****

  Still connected to a variety of life-support tubes and wires, the Prime Minister of Israel turned weakly in his hospital bed. He was feebly twisting the corner of his pillow with both hands while a horrific nightmare gripped him. He suddenly awoke and gradually realized that the thing in his hands was not a key. He released the pillow as he tried to reorient himself. His ears were now attuned to the sounds of the room, and his eyes tried to focus on his surroundings for the first time in 31 days. He looked out the window nearby and saw that it was nighttime. He was in the intensive care unit of a German hospital, surrounded by digital screens monitoring his breathing and brain activity. A variety of instruments connected to his body maintained his respiration and circulation, administered intravenous fluids, and otherwise supported his continued survival.

  “Come here! Come here! Look, he’s awake. He’s out of the coma!” It was the sound of his wife’s voice.

  The doctor rushed over and inspected the Prime Minister. He checked the readings on the panel of the life support system and then adjusted some of the buttons and switches. The Israeli premier fell back asleep.

  As he gradually began to regain consciousness, his medical team slowly weaned him off the ventilator and intravenous sedation drugs. Eventually, about 24 hours after the Prime Minister first emerged from his coma, his attending physician felt comfortable extubating the endotracheal tube, which allowed the leader to breathe on his own. For the next 24 hours, he slipped in and out of a dream state, each time regaining a little more alertness and cognitive function. About 12 hours after the breathing tubes had been removed from his mouth, gasps of horror reverberated through the room, waking him momentarily. People were crowded around the TV in his hospital room. “No, no, don’t disturb his rest. He shouldn’t see this…Don’t say anything to him now.” He slipped back into a deep slumber.

  Approximately 72 hours after the Israeli leader first awoke from his coma, he began speaking with those around him and gradually returning to his former self mentally, even though physically he was still quite weak because his muscles had atrophied from a month of disuse. Through several conversations with his wife, physician, and surrounding aides, the Prime Minister gradually realized that he had been in a coma for 31 days. His wife and aides were careful to hide the horrific news that had been on their minds, for fear of distressing him or delaying his recovery.

  About four days after the Prime Minister returned from his coma, he could sense that something momentously terrible had happened that he had yet to discover, and his wife and aides saw that he could intuit everyone’s grief. They also figured that he would inevitably hear about the news from the TV or a hospital worker. Acquiescing to the ineluctable, they finally explained to him that, about two and a half days earlier, the State of Israel had been destroyed by a coordinated attack of nuclear and chemical missiles, as well as innumerable conventional warheads from Iran, Syria, Lebanon, and Gaza. For about an hour after that onerous and woeful conversation, the Prime Minister remained speechless and lost in his thoughts.

  His morose mulling was interrupted when, at around 5 a.m. local German time, about 35 days after he had first entered into a coma, a mobile phone rang. The call came through the Prime Minister’s emergency-backup phone that operated on a European network. His wife answered for him. It was her husband’s chief of staff calling from overseas. When she updated him with the good news about the Prime Minister’s recovery, he excitedly asked to speak with him.

  “It’s Lior, your chief of staff,” she explained to her husband. She passed the cell phone to him so that he could, for the first time in over a month, conduct a conversation as the Prime Minister of Israel.

  “Sir, it’s great to be speaking to you again,” Lior said. “I’m relieved that you’re back.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in Washington D.C., Sir.”

  “What are you doing there?”

  “I’ve been talking to the American administration about what to do.”

  “What to do?”

  “They’re discussing military options.”

  “Isn’t it a little late for that?”

  “Shall I tell them that?”

  “Didn’t the president get my diplomatic cable?”

  “Which cable, Sir?”

  “I sent him a cable before I was about to convene the meeting of my security cabinet. You helped me to arrange that meeting, remember? We were preparing for it over the working breakfast.”

  “Yes, Sir, I remember all of that.”

  “The cable put him on notice that our military would attack in the next three to seven days if he didn’t send me a written reassurance within the next 24 hours. I gave him 24 hours to present Iran with a firm ultimatum requiring the complete and verified dismantling of their nuclear program starting within 48 hours.”

  “Yes, I remember. You copied me on that cable. And the President received that cable, Sir. He tried to call you to discuss it a few hours later but you were already hospitalized. And because you couldn’t attend the security cabinet meeting that we had set up, the ministers at the meeting couldn’t reach a decision to attack Iran’s nuclear sites. You know how divided people were at the time. And your deputy couldn’t achieve the necessary consensus in support of a decision to attack.”

  “But what did the Americans do all this time?”

  “They continued pressing for tougher economic sanctions and more diplomatic isolation. I think the Americans assumed that if the Israeli security cabinet couldn’t reach a decision to attack Iran, then they certainly weren’t going to. Remember, Sir, their timetable for an attack was different than ours.” />
  “Well, tell them that I’m out of my coma now, and that I no longer need them to neutralize the Iranian nuclear threat. I’ll do it myself.”

  “Sir, how do you expect to do that? We have no more military.”

  “What about the Dolphin?”

  “Sir, the closest reliable link to the Dolphin – or anything else concerning Israel – at this point is through Gabriel Cohen.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He’s in charge of the emergency backup communication center located in Karpathos, Greece. I last spoke to him about an hour ago.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He confirmed that the country has been completely destroyed – and that he had forgotten there were even any Israelis left, until he heard from the captain of the Dolphin, and then from me.”

  “When did he hear from the captain of the Dolphin?”

  “About two hours before he talked to me. He said that the captain was near Bandar Abbas and had called him seeking a Prime Minister’s approval for a second-strike on Iran.”

  “Put me in touch with Gabriel so that I can give him the authorization.”

  “Sir, we can try that, but I don’t know when or if the Dolphin’s crew will ever again try to communicate with him after they learned that Israel has been destroyed and that they were effectively the last Israelis.”

  The Prime Minister lay there in frustration, feeling – for the first time ever – truly powerless. He was still feebly recovering from a near-death health emergency. His country had just been destroyed while the world had apparently looked on, and it was highly unlikely that he could reach the last instrument of retaliation at his disposal. After all, what if the crew, upon hearing the inconceivably depressing news from Gabriel Cohen – and without any valid attack order to guide them – couldn’t reach an attack decision on their own and simply decided to commit collective suicide?