“What took you so long to get back to me?” asked Doron.
Mordechai wiped his mouth with his napkin and looked up at his old friend. He wished he could tell David Doron exactly what he knew. They went back a long way. And now Mordechai was sure. He’d been doing his homework for weeks, poring over books and articles and every bit of research he could find, dotting every i and crossing every t. But just as with Bennett, the time was not right. Not yet.
“You have many advisors giving you much advice, Mr. Prime Minister,” he replied. “I did not want to intrude.”
Doron set down his glass of wine, and Mordechai noticed his hands were shaking slightly.
“I would not have asked if it was going to be an intrusion. I will be blunt with you, Eli. This is not like any crisis Israel has ever faced before. We have taken on the entire Arab world, but never Russia. Never a nuclear power. This is different. And just between you and me, I have to confess I am scared.”
“You should be.”
“I keep reaching out to the French, the Germans, the British. Nobody in Europe seems willing to stand by us. The atmosphere is poisonous, as bad as it was in the thirties when Hitler was rising. Lucente is the worst, always sounding so sympathetic and understanding on the phone, but I swear it seems he is working with Gogolov.”
“Forget Salvador Lucente. Forget the E.U. They are a waste of time.”
“I cannot just forget them, Eli. We need them.”
“Of course we need them. But we are not going to get them.”
“Then short of a miracle, tell me what am I supposed to do.”
Every molecule in Mordechai’s body was shaking. The temptation to lay it all out, right then and there, was almost overwhelming. Yet something held him back.
“Mr. Prime Minister, I recommend you put all of your efforts into securing full American backing — public statements from the president and Congress, an emergency arms package, and the U.S. Seventh Fleet parked off the coast of Tel Aviv, if you can get it.”
“I am on the phone with the State Department and the CIA every single day. Nothing is happening.”
“Go through Bennett,” Mordechai counseled. “No one is closer to MacPherson than Jon Bennett. The president listens to him. He trusts him. I think he is your best shot at the moment. He may be your only shot.”
Bennett’s blood was boiling.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Gogolov was evil incarnate. The president couldn’t negotiate with him. He had to be destroyed before he consolidated his power and began issuing ultimatums to Washington and London, not just Jerusalem.
“Jon, you want to say something?” asked MacPherson.
Bennett was the president’s “point man for peace.” As much as he wanted to exact vengeance on Gogolov and Jibril, it was not exactly in his job description to become an advocate of war with Russia. But he simply couldn’t contain himself.
“Mr. President, I don’t know any other way to say this, so I’ll just be candid.”
“Please.”
“First of all, I shouldn’t have to remind anyone in this room that Israel is a strategic ally. Or that Israel has long been recognized as a ‘major partner’ with NATO. Or that the Israelis played a crucial role in helping us thwart the expansionist ambitions of the Kremlin during the Cold War. And let’s not forget, in the secrecy of this room, that we are the ones who helped Israel establish a nuclear-weapons program as a strategic counterbalance to Moscow and her radical Islamic allies.”
Mitchell moved to cut him off. “Jon, really, I don’t think we need—”
“Jack, I think I’ve earned the right to be heard at this table, and I’ll let you know when I am finished,” Bennett shot back, glaring at the CIA director.
“The strategic argument for defending Israel should be more than enough, but there’s a moral case as well,” Bennett continued. “How many times have we delivered speeches at the Holocaust Museum here in Washington and to Jewish groups around the country denouncing the do-nothing attitude of the Western powers during the wholesale slaughter of the Jews at the hands of the Nazis? How many times have we joined with Jewish and Christian leaders to declare, ‘Never again’? How can we now turn our backs on Israel as it faces another Holocaust?
“And would we even be having this discussion if it was Great Britain or NATO, rather than Israel, that was in Moscow’s crosshairs? Of course not. Think about it. In 1990 we sent a half a million troops to the Persian Gulf to protect the corrupt kingdom of Saudi Arabia from the threat of Saddam Hussein. Are you really telling me we are not going to move heaven and earth to protect Israel from the threat of Yuri Gogolov?”
Bennett looked around the room at the faces of his colleagues.
All were silent.
“With all due respect, Jack, yesterday’s speech by Gogolov wasn’t a move to drive up the price of oil. It was a pretext to move Russian forces into the Middle East. Why? To seize control of the Persian Gulf. To dominate the world’s oil supply. To bring the American people and our allies around the world to our knees. Gogolov and his forces tried to attack Washington with a civilian airliner. They seized control of a country with ten thousand nuclear warheads. They attacked an American embassy. They have either murdered or taken hostage a senior advisor to the president. They have terrified the American people with the notion that terror squads may be on their way….”
Again Mitchell tried to cut him off. “Come on, Jon, you can’t possibly base a decision like this on a rumor of terrorist activity. For all we know, it’s nothing but a hoax. You can’t really believe—”
Bennett pushed back. “I hope it is a hoax. But does anyone here have any doubt that Gogolov is probing for gaps in our homeland security, looking for weak links? He now controls the FSB, Spetsnatz, and Al-Nakbah. He has an entire arsenal of suitcase nukes at his disposal. How soon before he tries — again — to decapitate us?”
Bennett looked around the room. He certainly had everyone’s attention. But was he winning his argument?
“Look,” he concluded. “Yuri Gogolov has a record. He’s got an objective. He’s got a plan. And he is banking on our indecision. You all have copies of Zhirinovsky’s manifesto, The Final Thrust to the South, that I distributed earlier this morning. Read it. Study it. Gogolov’s loyalties are not a mystery, and neither are his intentions. He and his regime pose a clear and present danger to U.S. national security, and I believe we need to seriously consider the option of launching a preemptive strike to take him out.”
MacPherson was stunned.
No one was going to contemplate taking preemptive military action against Moscow. There were too many risks. The stakes were too high.
Was Bennett serious?
Maybe it had been a mistake to bring him back in the loop so quickly. Gogolov had almost killed him. He was still on heavy medication. He was desperate to find Erin. His judgment was impaired, to say the least.
MacPherson felt sorry for Bennett. He loved him like his own son. He hated to see Bennett suffering like he was. Perhaps a weekend at Camp David together would give them a chance to relax, catch up, and get back on the same page. For now, though, MacPherson had a decision to make, and it wasn’t one Bennett was going to like.
He directed his secretary of state to fly to Europe with the goal of keeping NATO and the E.U. from jumping into bed with Gogolov and to reassure them they would not be subject to economic blackmail.
He directed Bennett to go to Jerusalem to coordinate with Doron on a response to the Gogolov offensive and to get Mordechai’s take on the crisis.