Eli Cohen noticed the pair walking in and broke off his conversation with Danny Stein. The prime minister stood up and walked toward Margolis. “Amit, how are you?” Cohen was excited to see the two men who now formed the most important team in Israel as far as he was concerned.
“Very good, sir.” The two men shook hands. Cohen then turned to Schechter and repeated the process.
Cohen next introduced each of the men first to Yavi Aitan and then to Danny Stein. Next at the table was Lieutenant General Natan Fishel, Chief of the General Staff of the Israeli Defense Force. Amit Margolis had never met the career infantry officer. Fishel, like the eighteen men who preceded him in the position, was now one of the highest profile persons in Israel. The job thrust the holder from professional obscurity into the limelight as the commander-in-chief of a military machine widely viewed to be the best in the world man for man. In the era of 24 hour news coverage, the position tested the political skills of the man in the seat, a fact that affected the decision by Avner and Cohen on whom to nominate. General Fishel was widely respected for his planning and leadership talents, but he was every bit as comfortable at a party full of Knesset members as he was in a command bunker.
Cohen introduced Margolis. “Amit, this is General Fishel.”
Amit Margolis shook hands with Natan Fishel. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
“I have heard much about you, Mister Margolis.” Fishel did not finish the narrative, leaving Margolis in suspense as to whether the general was favorably impressed or not.
Fishel turned his attention to Schechter. “David, how are you this morning?”
The men shook hands. “Very good, Natan. It is good to see you here.” Schechter was not being truthful with his boss. The air force officer was wondering if he would still be in command of Project Block G at the end of this meeting.
Each man next shook hands with Defense Minister Avner and took his seat to the right of Prime Minister Cohen, who sat at the head of the table. Schechter immediately spoke up, not waiting for anyone else to take the lead. “I want to thank Defense Minister Avner for arranging this meeting. I am very pleased to report to all of you that the Yahalom Group has unanimously and enthusiastically agreed to a plan for Project Block G. The purpose of our meeting today is to obtain your authorization to go operational.” Schechter lifted up a Redwell expanding file from the side of his chair and placed it on the table. He pulled out seven printed and bound PowerPoint presentations and passed six of them out to the men around the table. Each presentation had a cover sheet with the simple title “Esther” and the classification “Top Secret — Limited Violet” written on it in English and Hebrew. Nowhere in the document did the phase “Project Block G” occur — either you knew what that phrase referred to or you didn’t; there would be no written reference. The presentation was just short of one hundred pages, the planning having been developed down to tactical detail at the unit level.
Schechter and Margolis spent the next three hours reviewing all of the detailed information of Project Block G. For General Fishel, this was the first time he had heard the concept of Esther’s Sling. When asked by Cohen what he thought after hearing it, he had smiled and simply given the table a thumbs up sign, the gesture saying more than any words could. But the most heated exchanges had come from Cohen and Avner’s questioning of the timing necessary to implement the plan. Schechter and Margolis were adamant that Israel could not be ready to launch Project Block G prior to the fall of 2011. The prime minister did not like this timing at all, wanting the plan to be ready to go by the coming spring. Only a detailed review by Margolis of the steps necessary to prepare Esther’s Sling convinced Cohen of the necessity of waiting. The long list of munitions still needed by the IAF only reinforced the timetable. Reluctantly, Cohen and Avner conceded the point, surrendering implementation of the plan to the men who had conceived it.
As the review of the presentation finished, Schechter summoned the courage to ask the question that had been in his head since he entered the room. He looked directly at General Fishel. “Who will be in operational command?”
Fishel did not hesitate. He had never questioned the appointment of Schechter, even though it had been made without his input. “That question was settled months ago, David. This is primarily an air force operation. Don’t let your nation down.”
Schechter relaxed for the first time since entering the room. “Thank you, sir.”
Natan Fishel sensed the right timing and looked at Margolis. “Mister Margolis, I have to admit that I was very skeptical when Zvi told me about your role. But listening to you has alleviated my concerns. I officially endorse your appointment as co-head of this operation.”
Margolis had not been pondering the general’s reaction to him, so the statement caught him off guard. But it was welcome nonetheless. “Thank you, sir. I hope to live up to the trust you have all placed in me.”
Fishel continued. “All IDF forces utilized for Project Block G will come under the command of General Schechter when we launch. Mister Margolis, you will be in command of all aspects of Esther’s Sling.”
16 — Olympic Games
Once all of the questions on the operational plan had been satisfied, Cohen turned to the man who had become his second favorite advisor next to his long-time partner Avner. “Yavi,” the prime minister said, “since we need at least a year to prepare, please update everyone on operations to slow down the Iranian program.”
Yavi Aitan shifted his seat and leaned forward, the area between his chest and stomach pressing into the edge of the conference table. “Yes, sir. Perhaps the most successful campaign underway the last couple years has been Myrtus.” For Schechter and Margolis, this was their first official briefing on the cyber warfare underway against Iran that the Americans referred to as Olympic Games. For this reason, Aitan gave a brief history that only took a couple of minutes. Natan Fishel had previously been briefed in a separate meeting.
Once the quick background had been provided, Aitan began to review current events. “Anyone who has been watching the news is, unfortunately, aware that since June, our primary Myrtus worm is being dissected by private anti-virus companies. Obviously, the world now knows it as Stuxnet. The identification of the worm by Iran was a setback for us. It came as a fluke. An Iranian engineer at Natanz had problems with his computer crashing and the Iranians contacted a small firm they use in Belarus. Their lead guy found Myrtus. Then he blogged about it on the tight network of software pros who work in these anti-virus firms. It quickly exploded into the news.”
Eli Cohen interrupted. “What caused the engineer’s computer to crash? Was it Myrtus?”
“We don’t know for sure. It is possible that it was Myrtus or Tunnel or one of our other worms. We aren’t sure yet which computer had the problem, so we aren’t sure if this resulted from a recent revision.”
“I don’t understand,” Cohen complained, echoing the thoughts of everyone else in the room.
“Sorry. Let me back up a little. Myrtus and our other worms are communicating back to us when they can. This gives us a wealth of information about what the Iranians are doing and about their entire network. Myrtus was designed so that we can update the software based on what we learn. We have established a joint center in the U.S. with the Americans to share everything learned, scope out and design changes and updates, assign coding responsibilities and, finally, to certify new updates.”
“Where is this happening? Langley?” asked Cohen out of curiosity.