by Dave Edlund
“Are you sure this is where you encountered Savage?”
“Yes, I’m certain,” she replied irritably.
“Well, unless there is a cave or something down there, our target’s gone.”
Eleven pair of eyes were scrutinizing every inch of the rock and boulders. Nothing.
“I suggest we move closer,” Nadya advised.
Nyden considered his options. He glanced at Ashcroft. The Black Russian Terriers were sitting obediently at his side—motionless, quiet. Failing to think of a better course of action, he agreed. “Everyone spread out in a line. Use whatever cover you can, but move forward in unison. Halt when I give the order.”
They still had the advantage of darkness, although not for long. Of course, if Peter Savage had night vision equipment, he would have already spotted them.
Without a sound, the eleven assailants formed a line 100 meters in length and descended toward the flat meadow filling the west side of the rock crescent. When Nyden estimated they had closed to within 200 meters, he ordered the team to stop. They took what cover they could find, some lying prone and motionless on the gravel.
“If he had NVGs, he’d have seen us by now,” Nyden said.
Nadya replied right away. “Or he’s asleep. I still don’t see any sign of him, but the dirt looks disturbed at the right end of the ledge. Do you see it?”
Several seconds of silence passed while Nyden—and every other team member—scrutinized the ground where Nadya had directed their attention.
“Yeah, I see it,” Nyden answered. “I don’t like it. If he’s there, why haven’t we spotted him yet?”
It was a good question, and Nadya did not have an answer.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Nyden said. “Nadya and Marcus, you split, flanking right and left. Search the formation and we’ll cover you from here.”
She looked to Marcus, who was by her side. He nodded, signaling he was ready. As one, they rose and darted down the slope, separating as they advanced. Soon they each arrived at opposite ends of the lava protrusion. Then, with rifles pointed forward, they advanced methodically—always aiming wherever their eyes looked.
Nadya came across the disturbed ground where Peter and Diesel had settled in for the night. No objects had been left behind. She continued her search and soon found the shallow cave; again marked by footprints and paw prints, leaving no doubt they had camped here.
Continuing to work her way forward, searching along the junction between meadow and rock, she found more footprints. But there was no other cave, no hiding spot to conceal his presence.
There was only one conclusion—Peter Savage was gone.
s
Peter and Diesel had climbed quickly and were now close to the Tam McArthur Rim. With the sheer cliff to his back—to the west—he could focus his attention on the lower approaches from the east. That is the direction the enemy will have to come from.
The terrain was close to level at the edge of the Rim, and Peter selected a spot at the cusp, where the land just began to slope downward. The trees remained stunted and scattered, but the volcanic origins provided plenty of dense igneous rock formations for shelter.
He selected one particularly promising thrust of rock about three feet thick, with a sloped side facing downhill and a perpendicular face on the opposite side. It was plenty wide and cleft in the middle, the crack wide enough to peer through. He settled in behind the shield, testing his field of view. Good enough, he thought.
The sky to the east was grey, and soon the sun would rise above the horizon. Not ideal at all. I won’t be able to get a clear image in the scope when the sun is low in the morning sky.
Peter shouldered his rifle and scanned the terrain before him. Nothing. No sign of anyone—just wilderness.
With the approach of dawn, the forest was slowly waking up. First it was the gray tree squirrels descending from their homes in an endless search for food. Then the ground squirrels emerged from burrows on a similar quest. As the sky continued to lighten, the feathered inhabitants—nuthatches and chickadees—began to stir. All this activity created a commotion that was in stark contrast with the stillness and silence of night.
Every disturbance of air or rustling of foliage became a new focus of interest for Diesel. His head was in a constant state of motion as he swiveled to each new sound.
Against this curtain of life, a deadly threat approached undetected.
Chapter 29
Sacramento, California
April 22
Still on her first cup of coffee, Lacey was reviewing the latest intelligence updates that had come in overnight when she was joined by Stephens. They each had their laptops open and a scattering of papers covered a major portion of the conference table.
“I phoned Angela Meyers already and left a voice message. Nothing useful from the local law enforcement.”
Lacey was tapping the table with her pen, only partly aware of the brief report from Stephens. Suddenly she rose and started to pace the length of the conference room.
“What is it?” Stephens asked.
Lacey held up her index finger. “What if this has everything to do with the Liberty incident, and yet nothing at all?”
“I don’t understand, ma’am,” Stephens replied as her mind immediately went into overdrive, trying to catch up with whatever line of reasoning her boss was following. “How can it be both?”
“That’s an excellent question.” Lacey regained her chair and selected a paper from the dozens on the table. She slid it across to Stephens.
A minute later her eyes widened. “Wow! Are you suggesting what I think you are?”
Lacey nodded and sipped her coffee, her gaze locked on her associate. Stephens finished reading the document, and then typed in a search phrase on her laptop. A couple seconds later the reply flashed on her screen. “Speaker Schuman has the endorsement of the American Israeli Foundation.”
“Correct. And he’s the son of Jewish parents. In fact, his family history is quite interesting. He has plenty of material for a riveting autobiography—a surefire best-seller.”
“Let me get this straight,” Stephens said, her voiced edged with excitement. “You’re suggesting that Abraham Schuman is in collusion with the Israeli government to keep the details surrounding the Liberty attack secret?”
“No, not exactly. I am theorizing that Schuman has formed an alliance with the office of Prime Minister David Feldman, and that together they want to maintain secrecy surrounding the extent of U.S.-Israeli involvement in the Liberty incident.”
“Okay,” Stephens said, her eyes narrowed. “There is certainly a religious and cultural connection between Schuman and Israel, but the same is probably true for a dozen or more members of Congress. Why is this case special?”
“Well, Schuman is going to be the Republican Presidential candidate, for one. But bear with me.” Lacey retrieved another paper and shared it with Stephens. It was a list of attendees at a private fund-raising dinner three nights ago at the Hay-Adams Hotel in support of Schuman’s Presidential campaign.
Stephens read the list and looked back at her boss with a blank expression.
“Think about it,” Lacey said.
“I am,” she protested, her arms open. “We have a Jewish-American, highly-respected member of Congress—the Speaker of the House for God’s sake—running for President. He has the usual corporate donors—many, no surprise, from his own district. And he has the endorsement of the American Jewish Foundation.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Put it all together, and I just don’t see any illegal conspiracy. It sounds pretty much like politics in America.”
“What if I said that David Feldman is a member of the Jewish Home Party?”
“Not surprising. The party has been riding a wave of popular support for a few years. With a struggling economy and a continued threat of terrorism from Islamic fundamentalists, the Israeli people are eating up the right-wing, nationalist agenda.”
“Exactly
,” Lacey said, her green eyes sparkling. “An ultra-nationalist Jewish government supporting the leading challenger to President Taylor’s re-election bid. What if Schuman is elected President? There’s no doubt he’ll extend U.S. support to Israel.”
“But every U.S. administration supports Israel. I don’t see anything nefarious in that.”
“And if it draws us into another war? Schuman is the lead author of the Israeli Security Act, and he’s been very vocal that he has the votes to override President Taylor’s veto.”
Mona Stephens looked again at the list of donors to the Schuman campaign. “A lot of these corporations are in defense.”
“That’s right.” Lacey leaned back in her chair, allowing time for Stephens to make the connections.
With only the ticking sound from the clock on the wall, Lacey waited.
Stephens raised her eyebrows. “Let’s assume Schuman is elected and pledges strong support to Feldman’s government. That could be all the encouragement the Prime Minister needs to pre-emptively attack Iran or Syria.”
“Israel has made no secret of their dislike for the nuclear treaty President Taylor signed with Iran. And their warplanes did bomb the Osirak nuclear reactor near Baghdad years ago to slow Iraq’s progress toward nuclear arms.”
“Right.” Stephens said, still pulling the threads together. “So, hypothetically speaking, Israel launches a pre-emptive military strike against Iran or another of its belligerent neighbors, confident that the U.S. will provide military and intelligence support.”
“Plus airpower and troops if it goes badly.”
Stephens nodded. “Yes. They could draw us into a regional conflict again.”
“With Russia backing Syria and possibly Iran, it could outgrow a regional conflict,” Lacey said with a grim look.
“But Schuman and Feldman are betting that they can contain the conflict. After all, it’s worked in all previous Arab-Israeli wars. So, Israel attacks her neighbors first—my guess is an air strike against military facilities in Iran followed by an invasion of Gaza. Later they’ll turn on Syria.”
A thin smile appeared on Lacey’s face. “Did you notice who the number one donor is to Schuman’s campaign?”
Stephens looked at the list again. There it was, the first name—United Armaments.
She looked across the table at her boss. “So the defense industry makes billions supplying weapons to support the Israeli conflict. Even better if the U.S. is drawn in.”
Lacey smiled. “It’s only a theory, but it does make more sense when you hear someone else say it.”
Stephens smiled. She understood, of course, the element of self-doubt that could stifle deductive reasoning unless one had the benefit of bouncing theories and speculation off another person. She had these same feelings many times before. It was one of the aspects of working for Lieutenant Lacey at SGIT that she especially valued—she could freely hypothesize and refine theories through intelligent dialog with the other analysts. No one ever thought less of her for sharing half-baked ideas, and the resulting informal group discussions had always been beneficial.
“There’s just one thing I’m still missing,” she ventured. “You said you thought this puzzle—the murders—has everything to do with the Liberty incident, and yet nothing at all to do with it. I’m still not making the connection.”
“The answer is as elementary as it is fiendish. The events surrounding the attack on the USS Liberty…”
“Yes?”
“I think that was the blueprint.”
Mona Stephens pushed her laptop aside and leaned over the table. “Whoa. Let me get this straight. Schuman and Feldman are following a plan that was first put into play by the U.S. and Israeli governments during the Six-Day War?”
“I do. Given the information Gary Porter shared about the contents of those classified files, that has to be the connection.
“In 1967, Israel felt threatened and desperately wanted to expand its geographical boundaries to put a significant buffer zone between the homeland and her Arab neighbors. In particular, the Golan Heights were a strategic priority to deny Syria the high ground. That fear lead to an Israeli first strike in June, the beginning of the Six-Day War.
“Many of Lyndon Johnson’s cabinet members and closest advisers—including Arthur Goldberg, the U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations—were Jewish and staunch supporters of the hardliners in Tel Aviv. Defense Secretary McNamara had positioned the Sixth Fleet in the Mediterranean, not far from Egypt and Israel. Most noteworthy is that both of the fleet’s two aircraft carriers—the Saratoga and the America—were on station as part of a large naval task force in the Eastern Mediterranean.
“There is only one reason for that amount of U.S. naval power in proximity to Egypt, the Sinai Peninsula, and Israel. Johnson had us poised to intervene on a moment’s notice if the tide of battle turned in favor of the Arab League.”
“I’d love to read those top-secret documents,” Stephens said, shifting in her chair. “It just doesn’t make sense to me that Israel would attack a U.S. ship. I mean, how could they benefit from doing that?”
Lacey raised her eyebrows. “That’s a question that historians, someday, will spend thousands of hours investigating. And those secret documents that Peter Savage and Gary Porter came across will likely shed some daylight on this mystery. At this time, all I can say is that based on public documents, it was a mistake on the part of a local commander. That was the official position from the White House and State Department as well.”
“Mistake? I don’t believe that.”
“Neither do I, but it’s easy to imagine such mistakes could happen during the heat of battle. It was a blitzkrieg—lightning war. Israel was fighting on multiple fronts against a coalition of nations. June 8, the day the Liberty was nearly sunk, was the eve of the invasion of the Golan Heights. Two days later the war was over. A ceasefire was negotiated by the UN, and although there are those who will argue that Israel wanted to press her military advantage and take more territory, the weight of international pressure prevailed and the hostilities ended with a negotiated settlement.
“The Liberty began its life as a Victory Ship, hauling cargo. But she was reconfigured and modernized by the Navy to become an Auxiliary Technical Research Ship. In other words, a floating surveillance post. On the eve of the invasion, Israeli command would have been very sensitive to their radio communications being intercepted. They would have never agreed to sharing sensitive information such as troop movements and timetables with anyone for fear of the information being compromised. That fear would be sufficient grounds for an attack. But that decision could have been made at a low level—say a base commander.
“So, the Liberty is under attack—by accident or on purpose, it really makes no difference—and Admiral Geis does the right thing and launches aircraft from each of his carriers. Not once, but twice, to defend the intelligence ship—”
Stephens interrupted, “And those aircraft are quickly recalled by none other than the Secretary of Defense himself: Robert McNamara.”
“That’s right,” Lacey added. “Once the attack on the Liberty began, Johnson, or maybe one of his advisers, recognized the opportunity. If the Liberty had sunk, the American public would have screamed for an immediate and decisive retaliation against the assumed aggressor—the Arab Coalition.”
“The crew of the Liberty were nothing more than sacrificial pawns.”
For a moment the two analysts looked each other in the eye, feeling the full weight of their assessment, and its implications to both historical perspective and current events.
Lacey exhaled, feeling some of the weight released with her breath. “Really, when you think about it, the plan was close to perfect. Israel, with the tacit approval of the United States—perhaps even a handshake deal between Lyndon Johnson and Prime Minister Levi Eshkol behind closed doors—launches a first-strike, a highly-successful military campaign against her Arab neighbors. In the process, the Jewish State captu
res vast territories that have never been returned.”
“And if it weren’t for the tragic events surrounding the Liberty, no one would ever know the truth.” Finally, the missing pieces fell into place and Mona Stephens understood. “If your theory is right, President Lyndon Johnson and Defense Secretary McNamara collaborated with a nation that was attacking a U.S. Naval vessel, deliberately sacrificing those poor seamen.”
“If I’m right,” Lacey said, “Speaker Schuman and Prime Minister David Feldman want to repeat those events. They want Israel to pre-emptively launch a military campaign to change the face of the Middle East. And drag the U.S. into war.”
Stephens leaned forward again, her hands gesticulating her concerns before the words escaped her mouth. “Somehow we have to get word to Commander Nicolaou. He could be walking into a very dangerous situation!”
“Not yet. He was very clear to me. We have to get more evidence—concrete evidence. Then I’ll get Colonel Pierson involved.”
“But ma’am,” she protested as Ellen Lacey held her palm out.
“I share your concerns. The murders in Oregon could have been committed by elements of Mossad or private security forces funded by U.S. defense companies. The Commander knew what he was getting into; he knows how the game is played. Without hard evidence, all we have is a story. Now, if you want to do something helpful, get me something tangible. Preferably on Schuman or Meyers.”
Chapter 30
Sacramento, California
April 22
With a plausible theory to guide their investigation, useful information finally began trickling in. Lieutenant Lacey was reading the latest update from MOTHER, the SGIT super computer, when Mona Stephens knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Stephens marched directly to Lacey’s desk and planted herself in one of two chairs. “Good news from the Bend Police,” she said excitedly. “They asked for our assistance in providing any information on an FBI agent out of the Portland office named Barnes. The detective seems to think he may be an imposter.”
