"Yeah, I know," Scott answered with uncharacteristic resignation, as he sipped his soup. "But everything is not so gloomy," he added, with equally uncharacteristic good cheer. "I heard the resistance hijacked a supply truck, stole all the supplies, and then loaded it with dynamite and sent it into a Russian camp by remote control. They say it killed nearly a thousand Russians."
Joel ordered his lunch before responding. "I've heard that story twenty times in the last three weeks and it gets more full of bullshit with every telling," Joel responded.
"You don't believe it?"
"Yeah, I believe it. But I believe it the way I heard it the first time: the resistance hijacked a truck and drove it into a Russian camp where it ran into a water tower, accomplishing next to nothing."
"Well, at least there is a resistance."
"Yeah, and they're out-gunned and completely disorganized. If Ben Gurion had used their tactics we'd still be a British protectorate! Damn it, Scott," Joel continued, after stirring his coffee, "we're still occupied! I don't care how many water towers we run into or supply trucks we hijack! We were a free, independent state and now we are not!"
"What do you think the resistance should do differently?" Scott asked, as if Joel's opinion made a difference.
"Hell, I don't know." Joel shook his head. "Nothing I guess. That's the whole problem: there's nothing we can do. Even if we got rid of the Russians, as soon as they were gone we'd be attacked by the Arabs, and we'd have nothing to fight them with."
"Yes, but… "
"Damn it, Scott, you're pissin' me off. Is that why you brought me here: so I could wallow in my anger and frustration?"
Joel Felsberg and Scott Rosen were zealous in their love for their country. Either could easily be brought to a fever pitch when it came to Israel, but strangely, on this occasion only Joel's blood pressure had risen. An unusual calm accompanied Scott's speech, but Joel didn't notice it. Neither had he noticed that since his arrival no one had entered or left the cafe, nor that the cafe owner had turned the sign to read 'CLOSED.' Likewise, the two men standing watch outside the cafe had escaped Joel's notice entirely.
Suddenly Scott became animated. "We must drive the Russians from Israel and bloody their noses so badly they'll never come back!" he said.
"Big talk. Big talk," Joel responded. "I suppose you think the resistance will accomplish that with their puny disruptions to the Russian supply lines. And just how do you propose we deal with the Arabs when and if the Russians leave?"
Scott studied his soup. "If only we had used our nukes on the Russians instead of just waving them around as a threat to the Libyans."
"You're a fool, Rosen! By the time we knew we were being invaded, the Russians were all over the place. The only way we could have nuked them was to launch on our own soil," Joel said, growing even more angry.
Scott Rosen did not allow his friend's anger to distract him. He had a mission to accomplish and all was working exactly according to plan. "Yeah, I guess that's true." Scott's voice seemed resigned to the hopelessness of the situation, but he continued. "Too bad we can't get control of the nukes now. With the Russians all concentrated in the hills, we could wipe out ninety percent of them with just a few well-placed missiles and the resistance could take out the other ten percent in the cities."
"You really are a fool," Joel said. "What about Moscow? You think they're just gonna sit back and let that happen without responding? What's to stop them from striking back against our cities?"
This was the question that Scott had been waiting for. Suddenly his mood grew much more serious. The gravity of what he was about to say was clear even to Joel. "Our strategic defense," he whispered finally.
Joel stared coldly at Scott, studying his expression. Twice his mouth was poised as if he were about to speak; he was going to accuse Rosen again of being a fool, but he held back. It appeared that Rosen was serious and when it came to strategic defense, Scott Rosen deserved to be heard. Next to his late father, Joshua Rosen, Scott knew more about Israeli strategic defense than anyone. Finally Joel responded, "You're talking impossibilities. Even if a plan like that could work, there's no way in the world our puny, disorganized resistance could get control of the Strategic Defense Control Facility."
"We don't need to go anywhere near the Control Facility," Scott said, confidently.
Suddenly Joel became aware of his surroundings. When he had thought that he and Rosen were just griping he didn't care who heard them. There was nothing unusual about two Israeli men complaining about the Russians. Everyone in Israel was complaining. Indeed, it might have been considered unusual for them to be talking about anything else. But now they had crossed the line: they were no longer just complaining. The wrong person listening to their conversation might easily have mistaken this for a conspiracy. He looked around quickly to make sure no one had overheard them.
Scott didn't interrupt him to mention that he had nothing to worry about; each of the seven people in the cafe had been handpicked for the occasion.
"You mean a remote?" Joel asked finally, under his breath. Scott signaled with his eyes in the affirmative. Joel had heard talk about a remote, an off-site test facility for the Strategic Defense Control Facility (SDCF), but he had written it off as speculation by people who didn't know any better. If there was an Off-Site Test Facility (OSTF) it would have been evident in the communications configuration needed for such an operation. True, the communications links could have been intentionally mislabeled to conceal its existence, but Joel had worked at the SDCF for over five years and had run numerous configuration scenarios on the facility's computers. If there was an Off-Site Test Facility, it would have turned up in the simulations.
Joel was intimately familiar with the concept of an OSTF. Early in his career, before leaving the U.S., he had been a low-level software analyst for Ford Aerospace, assigned to North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD). He remembered those long walks down the cold tunnels in Cheyenne Mountain to test software upgrades. He had been there in the mountain back in 1979 when for 15 terrifying minutes it appeared that the Soviet Union had launched a full scale nuclear attack on the United States. American Strategic Air Command (SAC) bombers were launched and nuclear missiles were put on alert, awaiting the President's order. As it turned out, the alert was caused by a test scenario inadvertently being fed into the on-line NORAD computer network. As a result of that false alarm the U.S. Congress immediately authorized the construction of the NORAD Off-Site Test Facility in downtown Colorado Springs.
Prior to the establishment of the Colorado Springs OSTF, the standard operating procedure for testing software upgrades had involved taking NORAD's backup systems for the critical missile warning computers off-line while the tests were run. It was risky business, at best. What if there had been a failure in the primary system? In the fifteen minutes it would take to get the backup system out of test mode and back on-line, it could be all over. The OSTF was definitely the way to go. Besides, as far as Joel was concerned, downtown Colorado Springs was a much easier commute than Cheyenne Mountain in the middle of the night. The OSTF included a complete duplicate of all the systems at Cheyenne Mountain. All testing of new software was performed there. Only after the software passed testing were the cryptographically check-summed object modules electronically downloaded to the operational center at NORAD. And there was one other benefit to the OSTF: in the event of a total failure of the NORAD systems, the OSTF could take over the actual operation. Computers, communications, and cryptographic equipment were all in place. All that was needed was loading of the proper cryptographic key material into the cryptos.