Farhad mutely pointed at the two digital timers included in the pile of components Kazem had pulled from the storage cabinets.
Kazem laughed. “You’re paying attention! Excellent! Yes, we will be using these timers on the ground test devices. However, the timers will not control their detonations. Instead, they will give an approximate countdown to detonation once final assembly is complete.”
Farhad raised one eyebrow and asked, “Approximate?”
Kazem grinned. “Yes, approximate. For each design we have in the digital clock’s memory the expected time to detonation. But these are experimental devices. I’d love to be able to promise that our predicted detonation time will arrive exact to the second. But not even my ego is so large. I am confident, though, that detonation will not occur for at least two hours after final assembly for both ground test devices.”
Farhad nodded. “And I remember you said that the air dropped device will detonate on impact.”
Kazem nodded back approvingly. “Exactly. And that’s why we can assemble that one completely. If it works as designed, nothing but the impact of being dropped from a significant height should cause detonation.”
Farhad frowned, and asked, "How great a height?"
Kazem shrugged, and answered, "It would not need to be very great, but certainly more than simply letting the warhead fall off a table or vehicle.
That's why complete assembly of that weapon doesn't pose a safety risk."
Kazem then directed Farhad on which components to place in which glove box, and while Farhad was doing that, entered a combination on a keypad attached to a safe. The safe opened with a click, and Kazem put on a pair of lead-lined gloves.
Kazem carefully withdrew three small metal boxes from the safe, and placed one each in a glove box compartment that Farhad noticed appeared to have an extra lining. Farhad guessed correctly without having to ask that he was looking at the uranium and plutonium components of the weapons.
Kazem then helped Farhad finish placing the remaining components inside the glove boxes, until finally they were done and Kazem nodded towards one of the two chairs on the floor, placed next to the elevator door.
“I don’t need any help putting these together, so you can get some rest,”
Kazem said, which Farhad thought was a remarkably diplomatic way of saying, “I’d like anyone without a degree in nuclear physics as far away from the bomb assembly process as possible.”
Kazem then added, “You’re not done, though. Once I finish putting these together, you’ll need to help me with the crating process.”
Farhad nodded, and moved to the chair. He had no idea what the “crating process” was, but he was sure Kazem would explain it.
Farhad did his best to remain silent and motionless during the several hours Kazem needed to assemble the weapons. Finally, with a satisfied nod Kazem straightened and looked toward Farhad.
“Done with assembly,” Kazem said, removing his hands from inside the gloves that gave the glove boxes their name.
Kazem had brought a small bag into the room with him, but Farhad had not asked what was in it. Now with a flourish Kazem revealed its contents.
Two bottles of water.
Kazem smiled and said, “I recommend taking only a few sips before we begin crating. We had to move out from Doshan Tappeh Air Base in a hurry when International Atomic Energy Agency inspectors turned up unexpectedly. This replacement facility was built very quickly, so there was no time for luxuries like plumbing. That means no bathroom until we get back upstairs.”
Farhad nodded, and took the recommended few sips of water. Next, they worked to assemble three crates from the pre-cut wooden components and metal hinges Kazem pulled from a storage cabinet. Once the crates were done, Kazem opened up the last storage cabinet and pulled out six pieces of styrofoam, each with an interior cut to size. He placed one styrofoam piece inside each crate. Then he placed each crate on a dolly next to a glove box.
Next, Kazem handed Farhad a bulky one-piece rubberized suit, with a clear plastic faceplate.
“At Doshan Tappeh we had suits we could hook up to a dedicated ventilation system, which had the advantage of helping to remove any radioactive particles that somehow entered the suit. Here, though, we’re just going to have to be grateful that at least the air conditioning works.”
Farhad nodded, and put on his suit. Within minutes they were both sweating inside their anti-radiation suits as Kazem first opened the lid of each glove box, and then together they each lifted one end of the device into the matching styrofoam indentation inside each crate. Two of the crates were longer than the third, to allow room for a separate indentation in the styrofoam for the component that remained for final assembly. They then placed the matching pre-cut styrofoam piece on top of the weapon, followed by the wooden lid.
After screwing in the lids, they rolled each dolly to the elevator, and took the first one up to the ground level. Farhad had wondered why the elevator was larger than usual when they went down. Now he had his answer.
Kazem looked at Farhad as the elevator moved upwards, and looked at his watch. “I see my estimate of how long assembly would take was just about spot on. Do you think the cargo plane we were promised will actually be waiting outside?”
Farhad shrugged. “I have faith in my organization. I suppose we will see soon enough.”
The elevator door slid open, and they rolled the dolly with the first weapon to the rear exit door. Sure enough, a large cargo plane with its propellers still slowly turning was sitting on the runway. As they looked, its cargo door opened, and two rather large men emerged.
Farhad said mildly, “I asked our people to send competent help.”
Kazem grunted. “Good. We need to make sure these are well secured.”
Farhad nodded and said, “I’ve asked that everyone on the flight, including the pilots, understand that they must follow your instructions exactly.”
Kazem smiled tightly. “Well, considering the stakes, I’m glad you made that clear.”
The two men spotted them, and quickly trotted up to the door. After Farhad verified they were the men he was expecting, they took over the dolly and he returned with Kazem back downstairs to retrieve the other two weapons. In less than an hour, all three weapons were secured on board the plane, and they had taken their seats in the front.
Kazem frowned as he tugged on his seat belt to make sure it was secure.
“I’ve never been on a seat that folded against the wall of the plane. I’d always thought it was impossible for there to be less comfortable seats than on Iran Air. I see I was wrong.”
Farhad laughed. “My travels for our organization have often included even less comfortable aircraft. One flight I remember well was on an Ilyushin cargo conversion, where all of the seats were made of hollow aluminum tubes and cloth, and attached to the floor with wing nuts.
Before the flight left the ground, a bottle of vodka with no label, a shot glass and a rag were all passed to the front of the aircraft. Each passenger was expected to take a shot, wipe the glass with the rag, and then pass everything to the next passenger. The lone stewardess was on hand solely to replace each bottle as it emptied with a full one. When the last bottle reached the end of the cabin, it was still about half full.
The stewardess took that bottle up to the pilots.
About fifteen minutes later, the slightly slurred voice of the Captain came over the intercom to welcome the passengers. He then went on to describe his exploits in the war in Afghanistan with the Soviet Air Force, including how he had developed a ‘combat takeoff’ to minimize the chance of a hit from Stinger anti-aircraft missiles, which he proceeded to demonstrate. This turned out to involve taking off nearly vertically, with the aluminum-tube seats bending backward until my head was nearly in the lap of the passenger behind me.”