Torres was stunned.
"This is..."
"Radioactive material," Shavit said, "High concentration. Enough to make four dirty bombs."
Torres turned pale.
"I—I really don't know—"
Shavit looked at him.
"I know you don't know."
Torres was stunned.
"You know?"
Shavit nodded.
"Because the ones who put the boxes weren't you."
He stood up and walked to the window.
Outside, the night was dark in Haifa, with the port lights flickering on the water.
"Captain Torres, you've been used."
Seven p.m., Jerusalem, Prime Minister's office.
Shamiel looked at the test report that had just arrived from Haifa and tapped his fingers on the table.
The report read: "Four metal boxes containing enriched uranium-235, purity over 20%. Source unknown."
He put down the report.
The Minister of Defense stood in front of him.
"Prime Minister, what do we do now?"
Shamiel looked up.
"Has there been any response from Mexico?"
The Minister of Defense nodded.
