John Bennett at first said nothing as he considered the strange proposal.
The silence was broken when Bennett rose and stood with his hands behind his back. "Mr. Fatah, can you tell me if your government wishes to utilize my services in any way that could be detrimental to my country, or jeopardize my position as a U. S. citizen and a retired military officer?"
Fatah rose and looked Bennett square in the face. "Sir, I can assure you that is not the case."
There was a pause and Bennett strode to the window, staring at the blue Pacific. He said, "Mr. Fatah, I would be honored to be a guest of your king. I have made deployments to the Mediterranean and I would enjoy seeing the Middle East again. How long should I plan on staying?"
"Oh, I believe three days would be ample time for us to explain our proposal to you. I will have a car pick you up here at noon Thursday. Incidentally, Commander, is your passport current?" Fatah already knew the answer.
"Yes it is. What will the weather be like this time of year?"
"It is suitable for a lightweight suit and sports clothes." Fatah extended his hand and said, "Then I shall see you in Riyadh next week, Commander."
After the man left, Bennett opened a Coors and sat with his feet propped on the coffee table. His curiosity was aroused, and he felt sympathy for the cultured Saudi. The kingdom's days were numbered, he thought. The whole region was a caldron now, on a scale not seen in the past millenium. Iran's interminable war of attrition with Iraq finally had reached an. uneasy settlement. Extensive blood-letting without significant gain by either side, severe economic disruption in the Persian Gulf with repeated attacks on third-party ships and ports-all these factors had forced a tenuous cease-fire. But the late Ayatollah and his successors had gained a victory of sorts. Despite the bitter religious discord between both nations, the cold-eyed Muslim priests in Tehran had reached an understanding with the Arab Socialist Baath party in Baghdad. Islam was slowly, reluctantly, uniting.
The year before, Lebanon's convulsions ended when the Syrian leadership was replaced by the spreading church-state doctrine of the mullahs. Press reports were ominous, for after the moderate Egyptian president and four ministers died in a mysterious plane crash, another bloody civil war was barely averted. The Libyans gleefully played a central role in fomenting turmoil in Cairo, and were suspected of sabotaging the presidential aircraft. It had taken decades, but the entire Islamic world seemed to be rallying under the green flag with star and crescent.
Nobody was naive enough to believe the Arab states would sublimate their individual differences for long; religious antagonism alone between Sunni and Shiite would guarantee lasting discord. But for the moment, the pressure was on the moderate Muslim nations.
John Bennett was aware of these facts. But he needed more information, a broader perspective. He set down his beer, grabbed the keys to his Mercedes, and headed for the library. In his methodical way he spent the evening building a background file, then he checked out a copy of the Koran.
The more he studied recent Middle East history, the more Bennett understood the rarity and importance of Saudi Arabia's relatively stable government. No other Arab nation of significant size had possessed a lasting hierarchy since World War II. There had been important efforts at pan-Arabism, most notably the short-lived Egyptian-Syrian alliance under Gamal Abdel Nasser. But the United Arab Republic, founded in 1958, fell apart within three years when the Syrian army broke with Cairo in resentment over Egyptian influence in Damascus.
Bennett read about the greater strife that followed. Anwar Sadat, perhaps the only genuine statesman in the region, was assassinated by radical army elements resentful of his accord with Israel. Iraq: plagued by coups and internal rebellion even before the war with Iran. Syria: successive governments toppled, then irretrievably mired in Lebanon. Jordan: perennial difficulty with the Palestinian population, open conflict with the PLO, and the festering matter of Israeli occupation of the West Bank. The list seemed endless.
But in Islam's holy book Bennett saw glimpses of what hardly could be missed by feuding Muslims themselves. The prophet Muhammad laid out a philosophy of life with strong appeal. Generosity and hospitality were extolled, as were attention to family and devotion to God. The Koran idealized strong, quiet men of action and commitment. If those qualities could be harnessed and directed under a unified leadership, the world would resound with their deeds:
Barely twelve hours after takeoff from San Diego, the Saudi Air 747 was lined up with the runway lights at Al-'Aqabah, and the Boeing's tires scarred the runway with black rubber upon landing. Bennett was met by an elegantly robed Safad Fatah with a chauffeured limousine and driven to the palace. There the former naval officer was hospitably but quickly shown his elegant quarters and left to sleep off his jet lag.
Late the next morning Bennett awoke refreshed if not wholly recovered, still in awe of his surroundings. The room was more than sumptuous; it bordered on the decadent, he thought. He considered himself sophisticated and well traveled, but never had he stayed in such a room. Few Muslims would choose such surroundings; the opulence therefore must reflect their view of what infidels desire. The shower and faucet handles must be solid gold. I don't know what these guys want, he mused, but they have the money to buy whatever it is.
Hours before Bennett stirred that morning, King Rahman had met with his principal military and civilian advisers. The meeting was solemn. The king, seated on an elaborately ornamented throne elevated above the floor, was noticeably ashen-faced. His ministers sat in a semicircle before him, and all took note of the monarch's pallor but none spoke of it. They did not need to. For as the 747 carrying the party from San Diego had passed the entrance to the Mediterranean at Gibraltar, a brief, violent assault had once more rent the Middle East.
The Israeli army, in a professionally executed lightning attack, had entered Jordan the night before. The invasion was justified by an announcement insisting the move was aimed it hostile guerrilla forces operating within that nation's borders. Israeli troops had occupied Amman in a matter of hours, supported by overwhelming air and artillery forces that smothered the defenses.
In Tel Aviv the prime minister announced that King Hussein was safe, en route to Cyprus with his family and senior advisers. The immediate fate of occupied Jordan remained uncertain, but it was unlikely the Israelis would withdraw anytime soon.
While few analysts agreed on a likely conclusion, most were quick to point out a long succession of events leading to the Israeli action. For several years Israeli public opinion had railed against the political leadership for its lack of action to increasingly violent resistance to Israeli domination of Gaza and the West Bank. Following the well-publicized riots' of the late 1980s, Palestinians had gained wider global support, plus military aid from government and private organizations within Lebanon and Jordan. It was a descending spiral of violence: repression brought resistance and revenge bred itself in kind. Eventually the Palestinian intefadeh, or uprising, expanded beyond stone-throwing. It grew into selective terrorist raids, evolving as more arms and men became available. All too soon larger operations were conducted with supporting arms-often rockets and artillery from Syria and Iran.
The political chaos in Lebanon, coupled with Jordan's tenuous position between its indigenous Palestinian population and a need to show support for pan-Arabism, bred the cycle of violence. Bennett concluded that Jordan may have ceased to exist as a nation-state in much the way that Lebanon had degenerated.