“I didn’t mean to say you were wrong, or…”
The Major waved him off with his hand. “I know, I know… We just live it every day. You are feeling what we all feel, every day of our lives. We have all lost family and friends in the wars, in terrorist attacks, and in intimidation.” His eyes came alive. “But now as a nation we can do something about it. We don’t sit back and walk to the gas chambers like lambs to slaughter.” His voice rising, he said, “Deliver those who are being taken away to death, and those who are staggering to slaughter, hold them back. If you say, we did not know this, does he not consider it who weighs the heart? And does he not know it who keeps the soul? And will he not render to man according to his works?” He paused to look for recognition in Woods. “Do you know that? It is from the Meshalim. Your Book of Proverbs, in the Old Testament, as you call it.”
Woods nodded.
“Now, we do something about it. We strike back. Never again will Jews go to their deaths quietly.”
“That’s exactly how I feel, but I can’t do anything about Vialli,” Woods said. Noticing the Major’s confusion he added, “My roommate.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to do something about Vialli. But I’m out of options.” Woods spoke out of frustration. “I just wanted to do something.”
The Major took another sip from his glass. “Like what?”
“To strike back. I wanted to go after the people who did it.” Woods’s eyes showed his intense disappointment.
“Do you know where they are? ’Cause I think some people have an idea of where they are. Or where the Sheikh is.”
“He’s in Lebanon.”
Woods waited. He wasn’t sure if he was being asked, or told. “How do you know?”
“We make it our business to know where terrorists are who murder Israelis. He isn’t always in Lebanon, but he is right now. His headquarters is somewhere else.”
“How do you know he is in Lebanon?”
“Our intelligence people are very good.”
“Where in Lebanon?”
“Eastern.”
“I thought when he sent his statement to the press he signed it in Beirut.”
“Maybe. But now, he’s in eastern Lebanon.”
“You know the town?” Woods asked, wanting to get as much information as he could, whether he was supposed to know or not.
“I do know the town.”
“What town?”
“Dar al Ahmar.”
“Where is that?”
“If I had a chart I would show you.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Chermak shrugged. “We’re on the same side, aren’t we? Didn’t he kill your American roommate and my three countrymen?”
Woods wondered what Chermak was getting at. Why did he feel as if he was being tested. “If you know where he is, why aren’t you doing something about it?”
“What makes you think we’re not?”
“Because nothing has happened. We’d know about it.”
“You would know about it if we wanted you to know about it. If it was done some other way, you might not hear about it.”
“I hope you hammer him.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Why didn’t I what?”
“You said you wish you could do something about it. Why didn’t you?”
“It’s not up to me. I went way out on a limb. Even went to see the Admiral, to get him to launch an attack. Kind of stupid. I could have been court-martialed. I think everyone was giving me a lot of room since Vialli was my roommate. Then I had a brainstorm, and wrote to my congressman to tell him about it. I had hoped our government — Congress in particular — would do something. I should have known better. They never do. They say a bunch of words and go to their next party. I guess we’re supposed to just let it happen.”
Except for Big, the other officers had drifted away as the conversation had become more and more serious. The Major looked around the room slowly, then back at Woods, as if considering something. He leaned forward slightly, saying on a soft voice, “May I talk to you outside?”
Woods wasn’t sure. “What for?” he asked, trying to resist but without offending.
Chermak didn’t respond directly. “Yes?”
“I guess so.” He turned to Big, saying “I’ll be right back.”
Big gave him a “be careful” look.
Woods and the Major walked outside the club and into the star-filled night, from the loud cacophony of conversation to the deep quiet of the evening. It was chilly and Woods wished he had something on other than his polyester white uniform. He put his cover on his head and pulled the bill down.
The Major started down the road. “Come,” he said.
Woods walked beside him on the side of the field next to the club. “What’s this about?” he asked impatiently.
“Just a minute,” the Major replied. “I want to make sure we’re out of hearing range of the building. You never know what is attached to a building or who is inside it.”
Woods frowned but didn’t say anything. After a few minutes, the Major stopped. A single spotlight from a building hundreds of yards away lit the Major from behind just enough that Woods couldn’t make out his face. He listened carefully over the chirping of the crickets as the Major stood very close to him and spoke softly, almost in a whisper. “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”
Woods was puzzled. “We sail early, then we’ll be conducting flight ops west of here.”
Major Chermak said, “Can you fly in the morning?”
“What?”
“Can you fly in the morning?”
“I told you, we’ll be flying off the ship in the morning. We’re pulling out.”
“What time?”
“I can’t tell you that. Confidential.”
“What time is your first flight?” the Major asked again, undeterred.
“What difference does it make?”
“What time,” the Major repeated.
Woods hesitated, then said, “I think our first launch is 0700.”
“Can you be on it?”
“Why?”
“Yes or no.”
“Of course. I write the flight schedule. I can put myself on it anywhere I want. But why?”
The Major checked around them slowly in each direction obviously watching for any movement.
“Can you meet us overhead right here,” he said, pointing up, “at 0730?”
“What are you talking about?” Woods asked, his heart pounding as the implications of what the Major was asking sunk in.
“Yes or no.”
“I suppose I could, but what for?”
“Tomorrow we go north. Into Lebanon. We will be after several terrorist strongholds in southern Lebanon, from where they launch their actions, including the place the rubber boats came from in the attack when your friend—”
Woods cut him off. “Where was that?” he asked sharply.
“Never mind about that. We also will be in eastern Lebanon. I will be leading that strike.”
“Why eastern Lebanon if the attack was launched from the coast?”
“We’re going to Dar al Ahmar.”
“You’re going after the Sheikh himself? The one taking credit for Gaza, and the bus?”