The Practical Spy

by Doug Walker

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  When Orson’s plane set down in Tel Aviv there was a staffer waiting. Both Prime Minister Yair Landver and King Saudi had been forewarned.

  Landver greeted him like a long lost cousin. Orson returned the warm embrace.

  “I’m always pleased to meet President Warren’s personal envoy. For some reason she doesn’t use either the secretary of state or the ambassador. I’m sure she has her reasons.”

  “I suppose so,” Orson replied, “but I’m not certain what they are. Of course she trusts me. But we all work for the same government and we are all here together.”

  “Well said. And what devious mission brings you to Israel?”

  “I am not the bringer of glad tidings. There is a sea change in the President’s outlook toward the world. What I would like to do is get you and King Saudi together and speak to you both at the same time. There could be others in the meeting. But you two are the major players.”

  “I was beginning to wonder if your President considered little Israel a major player.”

  Orson smiled. “As small as it is, little Israel has kept us on our toes for many years. And we look forward to many more. Is such a meeting possible?”

  “Two things. It would be secret until after the fact. And it would be on neutral ground.”

  “Would Jordan do?”

  “Good choice. Maybe the only one acceptable. Have you been in touch with the King?”

  “Not yet. I hoped a phone call might suffice.”

  “No problem there.”

  “I’d appreciate a secure line without Mossad listening in.”

  “I’ll try. They seem to do whatever they please. But you’ve been in that game.”

  “I know it well. Maybe I’d better hop over there. But I’m also not disclosing my mission until the two of you are together.”

  “Is it cataclysmic, tsunami caliber?”

  “You’d probably not see it so. I was about to say something, but maybe I’d better hold my tongue. I should be able to take a plane tomorrow.”

  “I’ll arrange it.”

  The three of them arrived in Amman, Jordan, the same evening, landing in two private aircraft minutes apart. Orson had flown in with King Saudi for convenience sake.

  Under heavy security, they were motorcaded to a building called Government House and told to go crazy calling room service. A breakfast was arranged for the following morning, to be hosted by the king of Jordan.

  Neither King Saudi nor Prime Minister Landver traveled with security, depending entirely on Jordan’s elite service. Their special agents remained with the airplanes.

  Government House itself was on total lockdown. Orson showered, donned a luxurious terry cloth robe, then ordered lobster and a bottle of Chablis from the room service number he had been given. He dined solo, watched CNN until the bottle was empty and slept like a sated bear. What the others were doing he could care less.

  With formal greetings out of the way and the wreckage of breakfast before them, Orson suggested that the King of Jordan join the parley. He declined, but Orson insisted. He might be called the titular host. So the four of them adjourned to a sitting room with coffee and pastries and Orson took the floor.

  “To be blunt and to the point,” he began, “the President of the United States believes a two-state solution to the Middle East problem is highly unlikely. Her thinking has evolved to that point. And I’m certain you are all aware that she isn’t the only one holding that view.” Orson eyed the three state leaders. Silence for a long moment, then Landver spoke.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It simply means what I said. It means she will no longer go out of her way or invest time and treasure into seeking a two-state solution. She believes there was a chance for that some years ago, but the U.S. missed it.”

  The Saudi King was clearly disappointed. “My plan, which brought the parties to the table, has been abandoned by President Warren. It seems like a slap in the face.”

  “The President,” Orson said, “sends you her good wishes. She hopes your plan will prosper. America is far across the water. You are working with your fellows here. If a two state solution is possible, she hopes you will achieve it. That she has been influenced to the contrary should not deter you from moving ahead.”

  “But America is a player in this game,” Saudi insisted.

  “Is, but should not be. You know our troops are being withdrawn from Europe and parts of Asia. Alexander the Great conquered most of the known world, then Rome came along and dominated Greece, even occupying the British Isles. Britain established an empire on which the sun never set, yet it did set. Then lately, the Soviet Union shattered. Things change.”

  “Just when was it,” Landver questioned, “that America could have insisted on a two-state solution?”

  “She believes, as others do, that it was in the late 70s, or early eighties, when Israel began sliding settlements into Arab territory. America should have put its foot down. But our Jewish community was all for the spread of Israel, which incidentally seems to carry the seeds of Israel’s demise.”

  The Israeli prime minister began to rise from his chair and almost shouted, “You’re telling me that Israel is finished?”

  “As such, yes,” Orson responded calmly. “The Zionist movement is finished. American shores beckon ambitious Israelis. We have the laws that protect them and permit them to flourish. President Warren used the word ‘organic,’ which to me means natural. So the area will take its natural course, go the way of mankind.”

  “And what might that be?” King Saudi questioned.

  “There are sparkling Jewish settlements on Arab land, Jewish roads that only Jews can use. The list goes on. Israel can only abuse its Arab neighbors up to a point. The Palestinian leaders endure this because they want to stay in power. But the people will eventually speak and it will not be pleasant. There will be riots and there will be bloodshed on both sides. Very likely many will die.”

  “And from this bloody orgy, what emerges?” The King of Jordan finally spoke.

  “No one knows,” Orson said. “Those who have placed this scenario on the table are not prophets. Prophets of doom maybe, but not clairvoyant. It should be some type of single state, although not as such. Perhaps a federation of sorts. What will be sought after and should be achieved is equal rights for all. That is not a bad outcome, but the road to such an ending will be gory.”

  “You have made us all feel wonderful,” the prime minister said. “I believe we have your message in full.”

  Orson asked to add one additional item. “Militant Jews have become very aggressive in attempting to take over the Temple Mount in Jerusalem’s Old City. For centuries this has been controlled by Muslims. This can be viewed as a provocation in an area with Muslim, Christian, Armenian and Jewish quarters. Where is the peace? I ask you. I am the messenger. You can shoot me now.”

  “If that would solve anything,” the Jordan king said with a slight smile. “Since the three of us are together, perhaps we can talk of matters more mundane if Orson will excuse us. Then I’ve planned a luncheon with a few others in attendance. After that you can fold your tents like the proverbial Arabs and silently steal away.”

  “I’ll stay over if you don’t mind,” Orson said. “I’ve booked a flight to the States for tomorrow morning.”

  “You are our honored guest,” the Jordanian king said with grace.