“Hard to explain,” Efraim said.
“You’ve heard the… rumors?”
“That the Syrians are right?”
“Yes,” Kinkaid replied.
“There’s always a first time.”
“If an American plane went into that fight, it was with Israel’s consent.”
“That would be crazy,” Efraim said in an unconvincing tone.
“Not if your objective is to get us drawn in. My paranoid officer thinks that is exactly what happened. It was the objective.”
Efraim was growing frustrated. “Aahh, Joseph, you are crazy. We don’t need you to do our dirty work for us. All we need is your money and your weapons. We fight our own fights.”
“The Mossad is not completely trusted in this town.”
“Nor the CIA in this one.”
“It sure could look like the whole thing was a setup. You got an American killed, then, through your Air Force, convinced his roommate to go on a secret raid into Lebanon. Either way you win. If he gets caught, it’s fine — it shows the U.S. is deeply involved already. If he doesn’t get caught, you work to get the U.S. in deeper.”
“I think we need to spend more time completing our current goal. Getting the Sheikh. That is something we know, and we can agree on. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“I believe I may have some additional information that will prove particularly valuable, and it is why I called. Perhaps it can convince you that our friendship will not be wrecked by a wild-eyed young Turk in your shop.”
“What information?”
“The Sheikh’s location.”
Kinkaid winced. He had been too direct with Efraim, to the point of offense. He was calling to give Kinkaid the very information he had wanted. Now he didn’t know if he could rely on it. “Do you know?”
“I can tell you later on in the day, if things go as I hope. It is dependent on a certain communications link. If things go as planned, I should be able to tell you.”
“I would like that very much. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“No. It sometimes must be done, even among friends. We should be able to stand a few storms. It cleans the oil off the streets.”
“Shall I wait to hear from you?”
“Yes. I must go. Shalom.”
“Shalom.”
32
“I have the information, Joseph. If you still want it. If you think it is reliable.”
“You have the Sheikh’s location?”
“Yes. I can’t tell you how—”
“You sure as hell can, and you will. If you think I’m going to try to sell this to our people, and ultimately the President, I need to know where this information came from and how reliable it is.”
Efraim breathed deeply. “After we spoke I sat in my office and stared out the window for many minutes. I was shocked beyond description. Not only that you would believe what you said of Israel but that you would believe it of me. That we would plot to have the United States do our fighting for us and trick you into it. And not just trick you in any way, but by murdering our own people.”
“We have longer arms than you. And stronger. And when we get angry, we will accomplish our military objective. You know that. But before we talk about the Sheikh, tell me about Irit.”
“I asked them to find everyone who ever knew her. All the stories are the same. She was on vacation by herself. No one had the objective of recruiting an American. I have confirmed that.”
Kinkaid wasn’t satisfied. “Is Israel above spying on the United States?”
“There used to be people here, you know some of them, who would not think twice. But we believe in the building of a relationship founded on trust. We do not do it anymore. There were a few rogues who had that in mind. They’re long gone. This is a new era. Ever since Ehud Barak, who was with Aman — military intelligence as you know — he has brought a greater sense, of, shall we say, maturity, to everything we do. We want no more mistakes. No more miscalculations. Everything we do, even covert, is reviewed by at least three levels. I have read the reports on the raid. There were no Israelis dressing up as Assassins dressed up as Israelis to fool everyone.”
Kinkaid wished he could see his friend’s face. He had enough experience to know how people in the intelligence world lie to you. They look you right in the eye and defy you to disbelieve them. “Thank you for checking.”
“Yes, of course. It was very difficult. Some wanted to know the origin of the request. I of course had to tell them, and they… didn’t know how to react. To laugh, or to become furious. They all felt that we need to be on the same side of this one, and it would be very smart for someone sympathetic to the Sheikh to sow doubt between us. They wanted me to ask you about your young Turk. He of the wild eyes. Is there any chance he is sympathetic to the Sheikh? Or at least the greater Arab cause?”
Kinkaid felt as if he had been struck in the gut. “How could that be?”
“What is his name?”
“I can’t disclose names of task force members.”
“I am about to disclose information to you so sensitive it could put someone’s life directly at risk and you won’t tell me a name?”
“Let’s just say your point is well taken.”
“How so?”
“He is Arabic.”
“From where did his family come?”
“Syria.”
There was a long pause on the scrambled phone line. “Be very careful, Joseph. Friends who are close to you can wield the sharpest knives.”
“I will be careful.”
“I must ask you to be sure not to tell him the source of the information on the Sheikh that I am about to give you. You must give me your word he will not be allowed to know.”
“He’s a member of the task force.”
“Take him off it. Or create a new compartment. Code word access only. And make sure he’s not on the list for access. You must do this for me.”
“That could create real problems for me.”
“I am not going to risk a man’s life because someone is holding something against us.” He waited for Kinkaid to interrupt him but Kinkaid was quiet. “You have brought up Pollard before. Tell me, did your Turk bring him up or did you think of Pollard on your own?”
“We both brought it up.”
“As I thought.”
“Look, I’ll make sure he’s out of the loop. That’s all I can do.”
“Your word is good enough,” he said reluctantly, hinting of additional reservations. “But if he does somehow get his hands on it, and the information makes it into the wrong hands, it could result in… it could have bad results.”
“Of course,” Kinkaid replied. “Tell me everything you know.”
“We spoke of targets last time. Three.”
“Yes. The three fortresses.”
“Exactly. You have accepted them as legitimate targets, and have been bombing two of them all night—”
“Yes—”
“All except one.”
“The one in Iran.”
“Yes. The oldest and most important. Alamut. Why have you not attacked there, Joseph?”
“Too far, too hard, and we doubted he would be there when he seems to be staging out of Lebanon or Syria. And our overhead imagery didn’t make it look like a place that saw a lot of activity.”
“Then you have missed him.”
“He’s at Alamut?” Kinkaid asked, dismayed.
“He is.”
“Are you sure?”
“We’re sure. Very sure.”
“How can you be so sure? Our satellites don’t show anything that gives us that confidence, Efraim. Tell me what gives you such confidence.”
“First, you must answer something. If I tell you this information, do I have your assurance that you will use it? I despise wasting good intelligence. Too many times, we have gathered information, only to watch the politicians urinate all over it in a big play to advance their own careers. Tell me about the people above you. Are they willing to go into Iran and get this Sheikh? Because if they aren’t, I will save the intelligence for my people alone. They know what to do with it.”