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All five people settled into the fixed leather chairs. The president sat at the head of the table; his National Security Advisor, Frank Ozark, sat immediately to his right and then Ted Byrne, his chief of staff. Rapp and Kennedy were on the other side of the table with Kennedy sitting closest to the president.
As the plane began to roll, the president looked at an Air Force officer standing in the door and said, “As soon as we reach altitude I want the call placed.”
“Yes, sir.” The man saluted and closed the door.
With the powerful engines roaring outside, Rapp put his mouth within inches of Kennedy’s ear and said, “Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?”
Kennedy had already grabbed the file in anticipation of this question. She opened it, revealing a satellite image, and slid it between them. “Do you recognize this?”
Rapp studied the picture intently while he scratched the thick black stubble on his face. “It’s the Isfahan facility. Isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Kennedy showed him a second photo that at first glance appeared to be the same as the first.
“What am I looking for?” Rapp asked.
Kennedy tapped her finger on the upper right quadrant of the photo. “Right there.”
Rapp’s eyes moved back and forth several times to both the before and after shots. “Is that a cloud of smoke?”
“It would appear so.” Kennedy removed both photos and laid out two new ones. These were blown-up shots focusing on the immediate area of interest. In the first one you could clearly see the large air-conditioning units on the roof. In the second one everything was obscured by a large debris cloud.
“What the hell happened?” Rapp asked in a hushed voice.
“We’re not sure.”
“So it wasn’t us?”
“No.”
“Then it had to be the Israelis.”
“One would assume.” Kennedy showed him another photo while the plane taxied to the main runway. The debris cloud was clear in this shot.
Rapp studied the shot for a few seconds and then asked the obvious question. “Where the hell is the roof?”
“It appears to have fallen into that large hole.”
Rapp was trying to make sense of it all. “Let’s back up for a moment. When did this happen?”
“Shortly after noon today. Tehran time.”
“We have real-time footage?”
“Partial. The NRO is analyzing it as we speak.” Kennedy was referring to the National Reconnaissance Office.
“Have you talked to Ben?” Rapp was referring to Ben Freidman, Kennedy’s equal at Mossad.
“He hasn’t returned any of my calls.”
Rapp shook his head. “That’s not a good sign.”
“Possibly, but I would imagine he has his hands full.”
“Or he’s dodging you. How about their ambassador?”
“Nothing so far. State has reached out to him, but he claims he knows even less than we do.”
“He’s probably telling the truth.” Rapp glanced over at the president who was talking to his chief of staff and national security advisor. Moving closer to Kennedy, he asked, “Why am I here? This all seems a bit above my pay grade at this point.”