of Palestine. We could have the deal done in less than fifteen minutes."
"What then?"
"As soon the deal is set, the PLC officials in the communications center will set up a satellite connection with Al Jazeera and Abu Dhabi Television, They'll go on the air to explain the current situation, denounce the rogue militias, reassert their legitimate authority over Palestine, announce the ap pointment of Sa'id, and request American assistance. Then, they'd like us to provide Sa'id with a satellite hookup, as well. They want him to make a short speech accepting the position and explaining what's at stake."
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Kirkpatrick interrupted. "Sa'id won't last five minutes in the territories. All kinds of people will be gunning for him, and neither the PLC nor a U.S. security force could guarantee him security, not during several weeks of intense fighting, at least."
"I agree. So does Sa'id. So does the PLC. When the weather clears, they'd like you to send in an extraction team to take Sa'id and the rest of my team toa secure location — outside of the region — where he'd like to open up immediate peace talks with Prime Minister Doron."
"Peace talks — those are his words?"
"They are, Mr. President."
"And the PLC is OK with all this?"
"The PLC just voted fifty-one to three in favor of Sa'id's requests. They're faxing over the paperwork to make it official even as we speak. But the offer expires in twelve — no, make that eleven minutes."
"Why such a fast deadline?" Mitchell demanded to know. "Who do they think they are, trying to dictate terms to us?"
"No, no, they're not trying to dictate any terms," Bennett shot back. They know we're meeting in emergency session. They know the Israelis are about to invade, and they're saying that if that happens, all deals are off. Once the Israelis cross the Green Line, the PLC believes all chances for persuading their own people that a peace deal is possible will be out the window. If they can persuade us to persuade Doron to hold back — no small feat, given what's going on right now — then they think they've got a shot, That's all. But now we've got ten minutes. That's it."
It was a stunning turn of events. No one was quite sure what to make of it.
"I don't like it," Mitchell finally said. "I don't like being backed into a corner. We don't know who we're dealing with. For all we know, this is a gambit by the Islamic radicals themselves, or by Iran, to stop the Israelis from invading."
"Oh, come on, Jack, that doesn't make sense and you know it," the vice president suddenly countered. "Jack, think about it. Assume for a minute this offer and the intelligence the PLC is offering us is all legit. If Iran is really behind the assassinations of Arafat, Abu Mazen, and the Secretary of State, then it's Iran that wants Israel to invade. That makes sense, doesn't it? They know full well that an Israeli invasion would doom the peace process. And in our hearts, everyone in this room knows it, too. Look, I've been as big a supporter of a tough, strong Israel as anyone in this town for going on four decades. No one can accuse me of trying to undermine Israel's security, and certainly not right now. I'm saying it's in our interest, and in Israel's, that Doron not go on offense right now, as much as he'd like to. But somebody has to, and it is my assessment, Mr. President, that such a task has now fallen to us."
The room was quiet. Vice President William Oaks commanded tremendous respect inside the MacPherson administration, and inside the leadership of both political parties. Everyone knew Checkmate was a man who carefully weighed every option, every action and reaction, and weighed his words carefully, as well. If he was now squarely siding with Bennett in advocating a U.S. military response, everyone knew he was likely to persuade the president.
"Besides," the vice president added, "think about it. Are we ever going to get a better deal than a man like Ibrahim Sa'id as the prime minister of Palestine? Mr. President, you've watched this guy pretty closely over the years. Jon and Erin know him personally. They've dealt with him for years. He's been totally honest, aboveboard, critical of Arafat but no pie-in-the-sky idealist. Jack, your own team totally vetted Sa'id, declared him clean of all terrorist connections, for crying out loud. Mr. President, I know things are moving pretty fast. But I've got to tell you, my gut says this is a good deal and we'd better take it fast."
"And if it's too good to be true?" asked Mitchell.
"It's not," the VP replied. "But it will be in about seven minutes."
Marcus Jackson desperately wanted the story.
It would make an incredible follow up to the "Point Man for Peace" profile he'd written about Jon Bennett a few days earlier, the one that ran in Sunday's New York Times, front page, top of the fold. Jackson already had the headline: "Point Man Pinned Down as Gaza Erupts in Civil War." But a headline alone wasn't enough. He needed the whole story, the inside story. He needed the tick-tock, the play-by-play of the most riveting story in the world at the moment. The only way to get that was to make contact with Bennett, and thus far that was going nowhere.
Bennett refused to cooperate. Jackson was sending him pages and e-mails on the hour for the past twenty-four hours. Yet Bennett wasn't calling back, Jackson knew Bennett's pager was new and top of the line. And he'd always been able to get him by e-mail, even at the military hospital in Germany twoweeks before. Bennett hadn't really cooperated with him for the "point man" profile. He'd insisted that he was merely "a behind-the-scenes kinda guy and liked it that way." He refused to say anything else, wouldn't even let his picture be taken by a Times photographer. But at least he'd had the decency to return Jackson's calls and explain, albeit briefly, why he was flat tered but unwilling to play ball. Now he was obviously stiff-arming Jackson, and Jackson was getting angry. Even repeated calls to Bennett's mom had stuck out. No answer. No answering machine.
Was Jon Bennett dead? Had he been killed in the initial attacks, or during a cross fire later that day? It was possible, of course, but it didn't seem likely. The White House would confirm that, wouldn't they? What reason would there be to hold back such information? It would come out eventually. Was Bennett severely injured? That, too, was possible. But again, White House press secretary Chuck Murray was being pretty forthcoming about U.S. ca sualty figures in the territories thus far. It didn't make sense that he'd refuse to confirm or deny the whereabouts of Bennett and his team, unless… unless what? It didn't make sense, and that made Jackson wonder all the more.
There was a story here. He knew it. He could feel it. He just had to get it. A former Army Times correspondent who'd covered the Gulf War, then moved back to his hometown to work for the Denver Post, Jackson joined The New York Times less than ten days before James "Mac" MacPherson— a.k.a. Gambit — announced his campaign for the GOP nomination. From that point forward, Jackson practically lived with the MacPherson family for months on end during the primaries and the general campaign. He got to know the entire team, including Jon Bennett, with whom he got along rea sonably well, in part because both of them were closet Democrats. Now Bennett was a senior advisor to the president of the United States. Jackson was the chief White House correspondent for the country's newspaper of record. And one way or the other, the latter was going to find the former.
The president turned to Defense Secretary Burt Trainor.
"OK, let's say the vice president is right. Let's say we should take this deal and send in U.S. forces. Bottom line, Burt — can we do this?"
"Send a strike force into the West Bank and Gaza to accomplish the PLC's objectives — establish order and extract Sa'id, Bennett, and Bennett's team?"