“Absolutely, Mr. Teraki. Then we can both be on our way.” Murphy beamed.
“Correct. And if you wish, I’ll have my people tell your people about the critical role you played in the mission.”
Murphy leaned forward in the chair and said in a low, conspiratorial tone, “To be perfectly honest, Mr. Teraki, maybe we should leave this strictly between the two of us — for security reasons, of course. Too many loose lips, you know.”
“I think you may be right,” Al-Bari agreed with a conspiratorial smile. “We’ll leave it between the two of us.”
“Sir, you are indeed a gentleman.”
“Make no mistake, though,” the Palestinian said as he pinned Murphy under a harsh, cold stare. “I expect complete candor. If I return here and there are shortcomings or problems which I did not know about, or if I walk into a trap or have problems on my way home…”
“Oh, no need for threats, now, Mr. Teraki.”
Al-Bari’s eyes bore into the Irishman. “I am told that your people deal with these things harshly, by shooting large-caliber bullets into the kneecaps. I assure you that would be preferable to what my people would do. Is that clear?”
Murphy coughed and mopped his brow again. “I… I assure you, there will be no problems at my end, Mr. Teraki.”
“Good. Until next week then.” Al-Bari smiled down at the fat Irishman.
Hafez Arazi picked him up later that night at National Capital Airport, and Ibrahim Al-Bari could finally relax. After years of training and operations, going in and out of these various degrees of readiness should be a matter of habit by now, but it was not. That sharp, wary edge never completely left now.
“How did it go?” Arazi finally had to ask.
“As I expected. Now we must wait and see.”
“Do you trust this Murphy?”
“Trust him? Oh, no, but he is too afraid and too greedy to cross us or to fail.”
“I do not understand the IRA,” Arazi said, shaking his head. “All they can do is blow up their own people and destroy their own cities. And British security is such a joke. They are almost as bad as the Americans.”
“The Israelis would finish the IRA off in a few days, I think.”
“Yes, and it is so ironic. We are the best equipped, best trained, and most dedicated liberation movement in the world, but we have the misfortune to be up against the most ruthless police state in the world.”
“We bring out the best in our enemies.”
“And they bring out the best in us. In the end that will make our victory even sweeter.”
“While I was gone, were you able to get the truck and the other equipment we need?’’
“Yes, I think you’ll like it. It is a new Dodge with one of those big camper bodies on the back. It was easy to purchase. The dealer could not have been more helpful, or stupid. I paid cash and used the phony driver’s license to get the title, as you said. It is parked out at Dulles Airport in the long-term lot, so we can leave it there until we need it.”
“Excellent. Did I not tell you how trusting the Americans are? All it takes is cash.”
“And this morning, I obtained the maps you wanted from the USGS. I said we were going hiking. They are beautiful. Such detail —the buildings, roads, woods, marshes, precise elevations, everything. They even show what is inside the military bases — the Naval Weapons Station, Langley Air Force Base, Camp Perry. Incredible. And anyone can buy them for two dollars! I cannot believe it. Why use spies and satellites, when they will sell them to you?”
“Such fools,” Al-Bari said as he shook his head. “We shall soon teach them just how big of fools, when we take our little ‘camping’ trip down to the ‘Historic Triangle.’ ”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The White House, Wednesday, October 10, 2:20 p.m.
These were not novices to major policy issues. As their meetings proceeded, Wagner’s ad hoc committee quickly moved beyond his broad charge to erect the skeleton of a diplomatic solution. Working in total secrecy with no fixed schedule, no agenda, no minutes, no aides, and no stand-ins allowed, they met every day. The pace had begun to move even quicker and the arguments had become sharper as the President convened the meeting that afternoon.
“Okay, folks, let’s get started,” Wagner began. “The Secretary of State has just returned from Riyadh, so the floor is all yours, Lang.”
“We are very close to an agreement with the Saudis,” Lang smiled. “I met for the last two days with King Bandar, Prince Abdullah, and Sheik Fahad.”
“That’s great, Lang, really great,” Wagner beamed.
“They assure us they can deliver the full support of Kuwait, Dubai, Qatar, and Yemen. Moreover, as we asked them to do, they have sounded out the PLO, Egypt, and Jordan. They can get them on board, provided the program is in the general shape we’ve discussed.”
“The Saudis have been pretty decent about bending around the sharp corners to accommodate us,” Anna Korshak agreed.
“Fahad told me over lunch yesterday that this is too serious a business to keep haggling over. They know their regime is right on the brink, so it is a matter of survival for all of us. They want assurances that you are serious, however. If not, he says this is the last time they’ll carry our jug to the well. Quit now, or stop wasting their time.”
Wagner nodded. “I can’t blame them. They have a right to be skeptical.”
“Agreed, but before we get too carried away congratulating ourselves, they continue to have two non-negotiable points,” Andrews replied with a touch of concern. “First, there must be a truly independent Palestinian state. Not a big problem, but the settlements in the West Bank must go. When and how can be open for discussion, though. Second, Jerusalem must be free of Israeli control. It can be an open, international city, like the Vatican as an example or run by the UN, so long as it is not under Israeli control and is truly international.”
“Well, that’s what it always comes down to,” Anna Korshak commented.
“Always did and always will, so let’s not kid ourselves that we’ll get by with anything less, particularly if we want to defuse all the anti-American hatred in the region.”
“Oh, don’t be too glum,” Andrews smiled. “I wasn’t riding camels over there for two days. They’ll pay for all the facilities and settlements that are vacated — ten billion dollars, maybe more. Anyway, the Israelis can buy a lot of F-15s and tanks with that kind of money.”
“They realize we’ll require clear statements about Israel’s right to exist and the sovereignty of her borders, don’t they?” Korshak asked in a firm voice.
“Of course, and that is not an issue.”
“How much confidence do you have that they can keep Hamas, Hezbollah, and the other radicals in line?” Wagner asked.
“None. They were quite candid about that. Hamas and a few other radical groups are Iranian proxies. They aren’t beholden to the Saudis or the other Gulf States, so there is little the Saudis or anyone else can do about them. However, the new agreement will buy a lot of goodwill in the Arab streets, and together we might be able to squeeze Teheran. Abdullah did raise one interesting question. Irrespective of the Islamists and Arab radicals, can the Israeli Prime Minister control his own hardliners in the Mossad, the Army, and the settlement ‘no-compromise’ crowd?”
Wagner paused for a moment before he replied. “In truth, I really don’t know. This will be volatile for the Arabs, volatile for many of our own folks, and it will sure as hell be volatile for the Israelis. Somehow, we must keep all the hotheads and the crazies marginalized long enough to get it done. That is why we must move quickly. If all the ‘nay-sayers’ have time to get organized and mobilize — and these days with blogs, Twitter, and instant news — they can stop us dead. And if they win, this is the last chance we’ll ever have to get it done.”
The others nodded, reflecting on those grim possibilities, until Anna Korshak asked, “How are you going to break all of this to the Israelis?’’
Portman drummed his fingertips on the table as he stated, “You know how they’ve always rejected the idea of an imposed settlement, and insisted on face-to-face talks.”
“What’s that got anyone except a de facto stall?” Korshak snapped back impatiently.
“I realize that, Anna,” Portman explained. “But what is Mike going to do when he gets the usual knee-jerk rejection from them?”
Wagner gave a resigned shrug. “Try like hell to convince the stubborn bastards that we’re really on their side,” Wagner answered as he pulled out his calendar. “Today is October ten. I want to try like hell to get all the loose ends tied up in two days so the Saudis can have it by then. They have their own little sales job to do. My Middle East trip starts on the fourteenth when I go to Riyadh, then Amman and Cairo, and finally in Tel Aviv on the sixteenth before I return home. When I’m there, I’ll lay it all out for the Israelis and give them two full days to take it or leave it.”
“That sounds like a tight schedule,” Art Jensen volunteered.
“It must be. We will never be able to keep a lid on this thing otherwise. We must be able to go to both sides with a complete package in hand. Once the word gets out, the whole deal will unravel. Both sides will launch a barrage against this point or that, and we’ll never get it back on track.” He looked down at his calendar book again. “Besides, I’m already scheduled to make a big televised speech on the nineteenth and I’m going to insist on a final agreement from both sides by noon that day. My speech is at 2:00 p.m. That’s when I’m announcing it, so it will break fast.”
“Pardon my ignorance, but what’s the speech on the nineteenth?” Anna Korshak asked with a puzzled expression.
Wagner looked around and shook his head. “What? Aren’t there any other historians in this group? No one who understands the significance of the date? How about you, Winston?”
“Why, ah do believe October 19 is Yorktown Day, Mr. President. It commemorates the last and most glorious battle of the American War of Independence, but ah guess they do not teach much history in Yankee schools these days, do they? It will add a nice touch, a very nice touch, if ah say so myself, Mr. President.”
“Pure accident, of course,” Wagner commented, “but we’ll pretend it is a stroke of genius. Anyway, on October 19 in Yorktown, Virginia, we will be all smiles as I announce a settlement of the modern Thirty Years War, or all frowns as I explain why we are imposing a complete embargo on all of them. Both speeches will be ready to go. Let’s pray for the best.”
“Yes, Mr. President, we shall pray for the best,” Winston Fields said ominously.
“And then we’ll duck,” Anna Korshak said.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Virginia, Thursday, October 11, 1:30 a.m.
Southeastern Virginia is a land created by its great rivers. That was quickly apparent to Ibrahim Al-Bari and Hafez Arazi as they drove south on I-95 on a beautiful early autumn afternoon. It is a pleasant drive, especially for young men more accustomed to the arid mountains and plains of the Middle East. Being more familiar with American roads, Arazi led in his old blue Toyota, while Al-Bari followed in the white camper truck. Once beyond the crowded suburbs of Washington, the lush rolling hills and dense pine forests of eastern Virginia stretched away mile after mile, seemingly untouched by man. To the east however, behind those dense pine forests, the land had been carved by the four rivers of Virginia — the Potomac on the north, the Rappahannock and York in the middle, and the James on the south. As each cascades down from the Appalachians, crosses the Shenandoah Valley and the Blue Ridge, they reach the fall line where the large cities of the region grew: Washington, DC, Fredericksburg, and Richmond. That is where the narrow rivers broaden out and roll gently into the Chesapeake Bay.
While the rivers run on a diagonal from the northwest to the southeast, the Chesapeake Bay itself runs north to south along the tips of those peninsulas and ends in Hampton Roads, one of the finest natural harbors in the world. In colonial days, the shores of those rivers and the bay itself gave rise to prosperous tobacco plantations with large manor houses rivaling the best in England. Jamestown was where the first permanent colony took root; Williamsburg was where it matured economically, socially, and politically; and Yorktown was where it reached adulthood when George Washington defeated Lord Cornwallis and his British regulars in 1781. That battle “turned the world upside down,” as they said, and guaranteed American independence.
About two hours south of Washington, Arazi and Al-Bari turned off 1-95 at Richmond and onto I-64. It runs down the peninsula formed by the spine of high ground that lies between the James and York Rivers. Another hour southeast brought them to Williamsburg. Just before dusk, they passed through the busy colonial tourist town and continued south to spend the night in a wooded campground overlooking the James River. Early the next morning they left the truck in the campground and drove Arazi’s Toyota north on the Colonial Parkway to the York River and the National Park Service Visitors Center at the old Yorktown Battlefield. From the observation deck, the eighteenth century battlefield lay around them. The workers were already beginning to put up the scaffolding for the reviewing stand, and to lay out the huge seating area for the speech on the 19th.
“This is where it all happened, Hafez, and this is where it will all happen again in another week. I must thank the Americans for placing this overlook here. It makes it very easy to explain my plan to you,” Al-Bari began.
“It is from their war of liberation from England, isn’t it?”
“A lesson they seem to have forgotten, but you already know more about it than most Americans do,” he smiled, looking out into the bright sunlight. “It was the last battle, the one where they won their independence. In truth, it was not much of a battle, more like a short siege. Cornwallis made his stand here with his back to the river and concentric rings of deep, protective trenches around him, just as Wagner will do. And the only reason it was the last battle was that the British decided the whole thing just was not worth the price they were paying. So, they began peace talks.”
“As they will be forced to do again, won’t they, Ibrahim?” Arazi asked.
“Yes, the British had all these powerful trenches, but the Americans did not try to storm the main ones. Instead, they brought up their artillery, which the British were not expecting, and fired right over the top.”
“Not much of a battle.”
“Quite the contrary. It is a superb one. It shows the problem a commander can create for himself with static thinking and fixed positions, when he is lazy and thinks the enemy will do what is convenient and what he expects them to do. Like Washington, Hafez, we will do what they least expect, what they are least prepared for. That is how we will beat them.”
“Show me, Cousin. Show me how we will do it.”
Al-Bari turned and looked back across the wide York River to the other shore. “That is Gloucester Point over there. It juts out and narrows the river by half, so they put the bridge there. It is the only one for thirty miles. It looks far off, but that low-lying wooded land over there is only two or three miles from here. Out of sight, out of mind, Hafez. You see, the Secret Service’s failures have all come from men with knives, handguns, and line-of-sight rifle shots, none of whom was more than a few hundred yards away, as Oswald was. Like everyone, th
ey keep fighting the last war, trying to reverse the last failure, expecting what they have always experienced, in close, where they have rings of bodyguards and snipers to stop them. Like Cornwallis, the Secret Service relies on that tight inner wall.”
“And we shall do what they do not expect, won’t we, Ibrahim.”
“Exactly. It came to me as I was hiding in a cave in an old, abandoned olive grove in northern Israel, hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. I had been crawling along the line of barbed wire that straddles the border, desperately searching for a ravine or creek bed where I could slip under the fence. If I had not found that cave and gotten out of the baking sun, I would never have made it. I would have been dead like those olive trees.”
“This was after your attack on the bus?”
“Yes. Despite all the planning and training, my mission was a complete failure. No one knew that more painfully than I did. It cost me my two brothers, and later my dear sister, my reputation, my standing in Hamas, and everything I had been working for.”
“It was not your fault, Ibrahim.”
“Oh, yes it was. That day, as the sun beat down on that hill, I knew it was my fault. No more of these futile attacks. To kill a snake, you cut off its head. To save our people we must go after the beast itself, here in America, and cut off its head. We must strike them and inflict such damage that they will decide the cost is too high and finally give us our independence.”
“Like the British?”
“Like the British.”
“And we can do that here?”
“Few events on a President’s calendar are scheduled and announced far in advance, but there are some occasions when the location and date of the event are fixed.”
Aim True, My Brothers Page 12
