Warriors by Barrett Tillman (29 page)

       Nearly all Tiger Force intelligence now went directly to the
Heyl Ha 'Avir.
But the car-bomb death of two Saudi Air Force majors, their chauffeur, and five civilians was of interest to other intelligence communities. By cross-checking a variety of sources, the story had come together with only a few gaps.

       This Bennett was a lucky one, all right, Geller mused. Had the American air attache not been on the street at the same time, Bennett certainly would have died in the car with the others. The natural question was, who and why?

       Geller was miffed but not surprised to learn Israel was suspected by the Saudis. Ordnance specialists confirmed the C-4 explosive had been of U.S. manufacture, which to the outside world meant the Israelis could be involved. The section chief knew better and was reminded of the old professional dogma: never assume the obvious without good reason.

       "Whom do you suspect?" the director of diplomatic intelligence had asked the colonel that morning.

       "Abraham, I'd lay even money it's the Yemenis or the Iranians."

       "Explain. "

       "The F-20s delivered a one-sided defeat upon the South Yemen Air Force a year ago. We have known, as you are aware, that most of the instructors are Americans. This bombing could shape up as revenge, pure and simple."

       The director tugged at his jowls. "Yes, I agree that is possible. But Iran?"

       "Things get complicated there. Just a moment." Geller spun his chair, reached for a folder on his desk, and turned back. "We have strong evidence that high-level diplomatic discussions have been going on between most of the Islamic fundamentalist states and many of their more moderate neighbors. The link seems to be this man." Geller pulled a photograph from the folder.

       "Ah, my old friend from Damascus!" The senior man's voice almost sounded jovial. "Ali al-Badran." He handed the picture back to Geller.

       "Correct. He's probably the most skilled Arab diplomat, certainly the best and most experienced Syrian-"

       "And he hates the very thought of Western devils conducting business in Arab countries. It's one of his ideological ties to the old Khomeini regime. That gives him credibility with the new clique in Tehran, which feels it has to pay lip service to the ayatollah's policies. "

       Geller tossed a little salute to the older man. "Very good, Abraham. You should consider a career in the intelligence field."

       “Maybe I will someday, after I've finished digging up ancient civilizations." Archaeology was their common passion. That and the preservation of Israel. "So you think the Iranians and perhaps Syrians want to kill the head of this separate Saudi air force as a precautionary move?"

       Geller shrugged his round shoulders. "It's one possibility. But I'll tell you one thing for sure. I wouldn't want to be in that American's shoes with two types of fanatics after me."

       "I understand he's overseeing construction of more advanced airfields in northern Arabia. Is that a threat to us?"

       "It could be offensive or defensive, depending upon how the fields are used. It's not for me to interpret, thank God. That's the kind of interpretation which leads to unwarranted assumptions, which leads to unnecessary action, which leads to war." He inhaled deeply. "Let's pray that the politicians don't reach the wrong conclusions. "

       His partner concurred solemnly. "Amen to that."

Washington, D.C. 7 August

      
President Walter Arnold settled into his chair for the National Security Council briefing, aware of the officers and civilian aides deferentially waiting behind him. Nearly all had remarked in recent months how his appearance had changed. Three tough years in office had left their mark on the president's face; his tan was long gone, deep lines accented his eyes and mouth, and the trademark silver-gray hair was almost completely white.

       The staff and aides took their seats as the chief executive sat down. It was a larger meeting than normal, for the pending crisis in the Middle East had expanded in scope and complexity. Arnold believed in diversity of opinion right up to the point when he made a decision. He had once told his chief of staff, "No historian is going to write about me what they wrote about Kennedy--bad advice from bad advisers. By God, if I make a mistake of the Bay of Pigs magnitude, everyone with me is going to take the heat, too."

       As he had for nearly every week in the previous three years and more, Major General George Miller stood before the president to update the global military situation.

       "Mr. President, there has been no indication of further overt action on the part of Arab air forces in the past several days. However, there is a high level of diplomatic activity among the Iranians, Syrians, and Iraqis, with lower levels of consultation with other Arab states. This includes meetings of the Syrian ambassador-at-large, Ali al-Badran, with traditional moderates from Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and the Emirates."

       Arnold knew this pattern had existed for at least several months, probably much longer. "Okay. What about Egypt and Jordan?"

       Miller was ready for that question. ''The Jordanian government continues to exist in exile, if you will, but of course without exercising much influence as to what happens there. We believe that return of Israeli-occupied Jordan to the Jordanians will be a cornerstone of any proposed settlement.

       "As for Egypt, there is nothing to suggest the current fundamental regime will change its attitudes anytime soon. Cairo's geopolitical stance is somewhere between Riyadh and Tehran-not as extreme as the Iranians but certainly not as moderate as the Saudis. That was to be expected after the previous government fell."

       Miller flipped a page on his chart and pointed to military dispositions. "Mr. President, there has been movement of Egyptian antiaircraft units into Sinai." The pointer tapped out positions beyond the Suez Canal. "Intelligence photos show that they are remaining stationary at present, and in fact are part of a planned combined arms exercise. But their location could be ominous. These are relatively new units of considerable versatility. Each tracked vehicle contains a twenty-five-millimeter gun and two each short-and medium-range SAMs. They are deployed in battalion strength, and they can keep up with the fastest battle tanks."

       "Is that mechanical fact significant?"

       "Yes, sir. At least it could be. You see, if motorized infantry with tanks were to suddenly drive eastward across Sinai, they would have to take their anti-air forces with them. By prepositioning such units, they gain a time saving."

       "Why couldn't the Israelis knock out these units? That would prevent the tanks and infantry from advancing, wouldn't it?"

       "Mr. President, these SAMs have terminal guidance which could be passive--acting upon heat or even noise of the target. They would not be easily defeated. You'll recall the serious losses the Israelis had from Egyptian SAMs in '73."

       Arnold did not know the figures, and in fact did not care. But he did know that dozens of Israeli aircraft had been destroyed or seriously damaged by the belt of surface-to-air missiles during the Yom Kippur War. Only extensive U. S. electronics gear and replacement aircraft and parts had kept the Israelis flying in sufficient numbers. Arnold did not intend to oversee another situation in which American aid to Israel incurred economic retaliation from the oil producers.

       "All right," Arnold said. "We have definite diplomatic activity among the Arabs, apparently for the purpose of establishing unity among the Muslim states. And we have possible military activity aimed at Israel from Egypt. What about other military cooperation ?"

       "I was just coming to that, sir." Miller flipped his chart again.

       The new page showed operating areas in Syria and Iraq. "Combined exercises have been held in these vicinities with Syrian, Iraqi, and reportedly some Iranian units. Our reports indicate a high degree of coordination between ground and air forces with good communications and control." This was new information, and its significance was not lost on those in the room.

       "What this amounts to," Miller summarized, "is the possibility of Arab preparation for a combined offensive against Israel. This kind of alliance--political and military--has never been accomplished before. If it continues at current levels, the Israelis will be in for the fight of their lives."

       "I assume the Israelis are as aware of all this as we are."

       "Oh, yes, sir. In fact, we have confirmed some of our data with Tel Aviv."

       Arnold perked up. "With Tel Aviv ... Any chance they're feeding us some of this info just to gain sympathy?"

       Miller was surprised-the president did not usually subscribe to Machiavellian theories. Perhaps three years on the job had taught him to consider more arcane and less apparent motives-even with longstanding allies.

       "We considered that possibility, sir. All our data has been independently confirmed."

       "How soon might such an Arab alliance move?"

       Miller glanced at the intelligence representatives. "The Arabs have all the hardware they need, right now, sir. And they have a very large manpower pool-much of it combat-experienced. This is especially true of the Iraqis and Iranians. Additionally, the Israelis are overextended in Jordan. They really can't keep the lid on there and fully defend their homeland at the same time. "

       Arnold rubbed his temple with one hand, his eyes closed. There was a long silence before he looked up again.

       "General Miller, thank you. As usual, you're right up to date on things. "

       Surprised to be dismissed so abruptly, Miller walked offstage. He still had more to say.

       The president turned to the NSC staff. "Gentlemen, ladies, we're entering a difficult period. We simply cannot allow ourselves to be forced into choosing sides in another Arab-Israeli war. The economic and diplomatic considerations are too great. I'll pursue this discussion at the cabinet meeting tomorrow."

       Walking to his limousine, Arnold strode out of earshot of his Secret Service escorts. Grabbing his chief of staff by the arm, he hissed, "See what Wilson and State can do. By God, we give the Israelis three billion a year, never see most of it again, and they perpetuate this situation despite us. I
hate
being in the middle like this. It just isn't fair!"

       The chief of staff stopped in his tracks, watching the briskly striding figure of the President of the United States. The staff director pondered the wisdom of sending Arnold the speech by Henry Kissinger years ago. "Nations don't have friends. They have interests." Of course, the present situation was not fair. What's that got to do with anything?

Riyadh, 23 August

      
Claudia Meyers knocked on the door of Bennett's hotel room.

       The door swung open, a tanned hand reached out, grasped her forearm, and pulled her inside. The door slammed shut.

       They hugged each other tightly for several minutes. At length Claudia said, "My God, I'm tired of living on letters and phone calls." She squeezed his neck. "You feel so
good."

      
He touched her cheek. "We do have a lot to talk about, don't we?" They sat down on the bed, and Bennett moved a black zippered bag to one side. Curled up with one another, they talked.

       Bennett said, "All right, here's what I'm thinking of doing." He looked directly into her hazel eyes. "War's coming. No doubt about it. My boys are ready, and I can't do much more. I'm thinking of asking to be released from my extended contract, going back home with you and setting up a house in California or Connecticut or wherever you like. What do you say?"

       She returned his gaze. "Is that a proposition, sailor?"

       He grinned the white grin she loved. "Consider it a proposal, Claudia. I've been thinking along these lines for quite a while. Now I want to marry you."

       Her voice seemed small in the room. "Okay."

       That afternoon they made love and made plans. The main concern was how to accommodate their different work and responsibilities.

       Bennett said, "I can probably wrap things up in less than sixty days. If necessary, Ed can take over for me. We're down to the basic requirements of twenty-eight IPs now, including one for each squadron, since basic flight training is winding down." He tickled her ribs and she wriggled away. "What about you?"

       "I'll put in for termination of my position here right away. I'm senior enough that it shouldn't be too difficult, especially since I've been at this station so long." She edged closer to Bennett, grasping his near hand to prevent more mischief. "I'd like to finish my full twenty years with the State Department, John. If I got a Washington posting could you tolerate that for a while? It would only be another couple of years. "

       The disappointment showed on his face. "Oh, lord. Georgetown cocktail parties, small talk with the temporary acting deputy under-secretary from Lower Slobbovia. You'd really subject the man you love to that sort of thing?"

       "Yes. If I was the woman he loved."

       "Ouch." He raised his hands. "Okay, I surrender. But old John is going to look awfully funny in a tux. Besides, how will I communicate with anybody? You know fighter pilots can't talk with a teacup in one hand. It takes two, baby." He parodied the gestures common to aviators describing two aircraft engaged in a close dogfight.

       Claudia laughed appreciatively, then turned serious. "What do you think you would do for two years or so in D.C.?"

       He wrapped his arms around her. "I've never been a house husband. That seems all the rage these days. You know, send you off to work each morning with a healthy, nutritious lunch in your bag. Have a nice dinner waiting when you come home after a hard day with the Bulgarian ambassador."