The Glory by Herman Wouk Read Free Book Online Page B

sorry to be breaking
     this news to you. The Egyptians have sunk the
Eilat
with a missile attack.” Barak caught his breath, and Pasternak went on briskly, “Don’t be too alarmed. Helicopters are out
     there right now picking up survivors, lots of them. Patrol boats are speeding to the scene. Chances are very good that your
     son is okay.”
    “Where and when did this happen, Sam?”
    “Off Port Said around sunset. The missiles came from the boats in the harbor, no question. Abe Harman and Gideon Rafael have
     to be told right away.” Rafael was Israel’s ambassador to the United Nations. “The whole picture has changed, Zev. The balance
     of forces has shifted, and we’re in a new situation. A new era.”
    Words from the Book of Job flashed into Barak’s mind.
“The thing that I greatly feared has come upon me.”
He had on file the intelligence about the missile boats in Port Said, and the navy chart which showed where the destroyers
     were patrolling off Egypt and Sinai. It had seemed to him a risky and provocative showing of the flag, and he had been concerned
     about Noah in that spot, but sea strategy was not his business.
    “Have you been monitoring the Egyptians?”
    “Yes. They’ve picked up the distress and rescue signals, and they’ll call for a UN Security Council meeting tomorrow to claim
     the ship was in their territorial waters. Which it wasn’t. They’re bubbling with joy.”
    “Not for long,” Barak said.
    “Well, that’s the big question now, how we respond. The Prime Minister is meeting now with Dayan and Foreign Minister Eban.”
     The brisk dry tones of the intelligence man slowed and warmed. “I’ll stay in close touch, Zev. I’ll track the survivor list
     and let you know any news of Noah, the minute I hear.”
    “Thanks, Sam.”
    That was like Pasternak. Their friendship went far back to service together in a paramilitary youth group. Sam was a Czech
     by birth, the toughest of the tough, yet in his way a good Jewish boy, devoted to his mother and sisters, if not to an estranged
     wife. They had come a long way together in the army, before Sam had detoured into the Mossad.
    Ambassador Harman’s pouched eyes reddened and his pallid face turned a shade grayer when Barak told him the news. He said
     with a thick sigh, “So they haven’t learned their lesson yet? Well, they will, believe me. I hope your son is all right. Ah,
     Zev, what a sad, sad business.” He gestured at a typescript on his desk. “My speech is out the window. My title was ‘The Coming
     Peace.’ I meant every word, too.” Narrowing his eyes, the ambassador went on slowly, half to himself, “I may be hearing from
     the State Department any minute. From senators, from Jewish leaders. Maybe I should call Dean Rusk myself. I’ll think about
     that. Let me have a quick military analysis, Zev, the complications, the reprisal options. Something I can have in hand —”
    “At once, Ambassador.”
    First Barak called Gideon Rafael in New York. Taking the news in stride, the UN ambassador asked businesslike questions about
     the attack, and said he would summon his staff that evening to plan Security Council tactics. On Barak’s desk lay the start
     of his letter to Halliday. Too late, too late! He had an impulse to tear it up, but at that moment Nakhama came in. She wore
     a dark gray suit, and a feathered red hat was perched on her thick glossy black hair. “Like my hat? Zena Harman said the women
     at these things all wear hats. I just bought it at Garfinkel’s. It was on sale. It isn’t too much? Too
red
? Is the feather too silly?”
    Should he tell her of the sinking? She was made up as for a party, and her eyes snapped with excitement. The idea of substituting
     for the brilliant Zena Harman had put her in high spirits. “It’s a nice hat. What will you talk about?”
    “About Noah. You know, how it feels to be a mother of a son fighting for Israel. About how we reacted when he first showed