Dado sat me down and filled me in on what was obviously a changing situation. He said the terrorists had allowed the pilot, Reginald Levy, to come see Dayan and press their demands. He had brought with him a slab of light-yellow material to demonstrate the seriousness of the risk of saying no. When tested, it turned out to be exactly what the hijackers said it was: plastic explosive. The pilot said there were four terrorists: two men with pistols and two women with explosives and grenades. There were 95 passengers and seven crew. He’d also confirmed that none of the exits above the wings was blocked by a passenger seat. He’d returned to the plane without any clear answer from Dayan on the prisoner release. But before leaving, he revealed that his own wife was among the passengers. He asked Dayan to promise that Israel would help care for their daughter if the hijack ended tragically. By the next morning, that was looking more and more likely. Though the hijackers were still in contact with the tower, the only visible movement was the arrival of a representative of the Red Cross. The lead hijacker, who called himself Captain Rifa’at, was making increasingly forceful demands for the prisoner release. Our negotiating team did its best to buy time by giving the appearance we were considering the demand. It was Dayan who came up with the idea of going further. He told Rechavam Ze’evi, as the head of the central command area, to begin rounding up hundreds of young Israeli reserve soldiers. He wanted them dressed them in prison uniforms, and then bused to the airport, within sight of the hijacked jet. Dayan also arranged for another Boeing 707, ostensibly to take the “freed prisoners” on to Cairo. “What then?” Ze’evi asked Dayan. “We’re not really going to put them on a plane and take off!” It was after he’d had no real reply that he in effect answered his own question, inadvertently leading us to the idea of attempting a daytime attack after all. Talking to Dado and m