Warriors by Barrett Tillman (33 page)

       "Mr. President, I'm afraid I don't have anything to cheer you up," Wilson replied. "I didn't phone just to issue a status report. I wanted to tell you of new evidence we've developed through neutral sources in Damascus."

       Arnold was visibly upset. He did not need more bad news.

       "Who's neutral in that country anymore?"

       "Well, this comes via the French Embassy. And we're checking with the Swiss in Tehran. But it appears the Muslim states are finally getting it all together. You recall the Syrian ambassador at large who's been conducting his own shuttle diplomacy over the past year or so? Well, he seems to be producing results. Syria, Iran, Iraq, and Libya, plus Egypt to a lesser extent, are presenting a united diplomatic front. We don't know about the Saudis yet--they're trying to stay on the fence. But evidently the others are issuing an ultimatum sometime this month. The Israelis withdraw from Jordan and cede the West Bank as a Palestinian homeland, or else."

       Walter Arnold's reply was simply, "Or else ... "

       "Or else a full-scale war. And this time the Arabs have enough muscle and unity to make it stick. There have already been joint military planning conferences and joint exercises, you know. At least three high-level meetings have been held in Syria and one or more in Iran."

       "Judas Priest."

       The Secretary of State inhaled deeply. "And that's not all, Mr. President. They mean to play hardball. If we or any other Western power provide arms or other material support to Israel in the event of hostilities, there'll be an immediate oil embargo."

       "You're certain of this information?"

       "As sure as we can be right now. All we have to do is wait until the announcement in a week or so."

       Arnold was ready to grasp at any straw. "But Thurmon, what about our U. N. initiative and the Saudi contacts with the hard-liners? At one time it looked like something might be worked out."

       Wilson's gaze dropped to the floor. Then, raising his eyes to the president, he said, "I don't think those meetings were ever held in good faith. Based on available evidence, they were a smokescreen to keep us off balance. Like Japan in '41."

       Arnold sat back in his chair, his eyes closed.
Why would any sane human want this job?
he wondered. He looked at Wilson. "Well, at least an embargo wouldn't hurt us as much as it did in '73. We've enough stocks to last quite a while. But, Christ! Within two months of election!"

       The diplomat punched his left palm with his right fist. "I seriously doubt the timing is coincidental, sir." He leaned forward, emphasizing his next point. "Undoubtedly the Israelis already have this information. We can talk to their ambassador again, but I know damn well what he'll say. Tel Aviv calls the shots, and the present government is in no mood to negotiate. It'll be even less inclined to accede to Arab demands that Israel withdraw from Jordan and the West Bank."

       The president glumly settled his chin in his hands. "Thurmon, what do you think would be the result if we supported Israel in another war?"

       "Aside from the economic and political problems it would pose, there's also the terrorist threat. We don't know for certain, but presumably that's something the Iranians and their friends have discussed. They'd love to blackmail us into doing nothing. It'd be awfully hard to take that kind of political heat in this country."

       "We should discuss this with Ben Wake and Defense," Arnold said in a flat voice.

       Wilson nodded agreement. "Yes, of course. But nothing's really changed, you know. The Joint Chiefs are unanimous in their view that direct combat in support of Israel would not guarantee success, and undoubtedly would bring severe repercussions, as I just noted. Plus there's the domestic consideration. More American lives lost in the Middle East to no direct gain by the U.S." Wilson shrugged. "Imagine how that'll play on Main Street."

       "So you think the best policy is hands off? Don't support Israel?"

       For the first time in the meeting, Wilson smiled. ''That's where an old lawyer can do some good, Mr. President. I recommend that we adopt a neutral stance, offering to continue mediating the situation. It keeps our contacts open to the Arabs and the Israelis, and to their supporters over here."

       "All right, I'll buy that. But if it still comes to war, then what?"

       "Frankly, Mr. President, I'm in agreement with Ben and the JCS on this one. I don't think our support
or
intervention would significantly change things. It would only get a lot of young Americans killed in a conflict that many people would regard as not in our national interest." He let the point sink in, sensing he had scored with a sensitive topic. Then he added, "Which reminds me. I have a report that yesterday the Saudi Air Force was engaged in a skirmish near the Jordanian border with some Israeli aircraft. This followed air battles the day before between the Israelis and some Syrians and Iraqis. "

       "Yes, I remember," said the president.

       "It's not confirmed, sir, but apparently American and British pilots were involved. They're part of this Tiger Force the Saudis set up a few years ago."

       Arnold's jaw grew slack. "You mean Americans might actually be in combat with Israelis? How is that possible?"

       "It's possible, sir, because we bent over backward to keep our presence and influence in Arabia after the British grabbed that huge defense contract. I've checked the law on this point, and there's room for argument both ways. But so far the U. S. advisers in this organization have not broken any laws."

       Obviously, we can't let them continue there."

       Wilson raised a cautionary hand. "I'm not so sure. The Saudis regard these people very highly and want them to stay. If we insist on pulling them out, there's no guarantee they'll come. They might simply turn professional mercenaries and all we'd accomplish is alienating the Saudis. Right now, I think we need credibility in Riyadh a lot more than we need to rein in a few cowboys."

       President Walter Arnold let out a long sigh. "Okay. Keep me informed. "

Tel Aviv, 5 September

      
"Well, there it is," said Chaim Geller. He plopped the two-page document down on the desk of his air force liaison officer at the intelligence complex overlooking the city. ''There's no doubt that at least one American pilot was involved in the combat with our F-15s? These radio transcripts prove it, I suppose."

       Major Eli Ashkiron of the
Heyl Ha'Avir
scanned the printout.

       "We didn't expect to get a complete voice intercept, Colonel. The F-20s are using minimum radio transmissions, and only in the heat of battle. But what this paper doesn't show is the individual's accent. He is definitely American, not British. Our linguists say he probably comes from the western United States."

       Chaim Geller filed away that very useful bit of information for future reference.
As if knowing his place of birth will help us win an air battle,
the section chief thought. "I take it that all the transmissions that were monitored were in English?"

       The major said, "Yes, including the Saudis'. That only reinforces our suspicion that the foreign instructors are still flying with this . . . Tiger Force." The officer, though a professional, had difficulty keeping the spite out of his voice. "Colonel, will our diplomatic people make a protest over this? I cannot imagine we would let American and British citizens actually fight for the Arabs without raising the matter in Washington and London."

       "I don't know, Eli. That's up to the politicians."

       IN THE FOLLOWING TWO WEEKS JOHN BENNETT AVERAGED barely five hours sleep per night, logging almost twenty-five hours in his beloved 001. The two-seat Tigershark with the grinning mouth and leering eyes painted on the nose was a familiar sight at the outlying fields as well as Riyadh.

       Maintenance and support facilities had to be provided at the forward bases, and provision had to be made for regular resupply. Existing fields were used as primary bases, with staging fields farther out. Wadi al Qalibah, 120 miles inland from the Gulf of Aqabah, was the most westerly. Others spread across the north to the east: Tabuk, with two preexisting strips only 60 miles from the Jordan border; Al Jouf "old" and Al Jouf "new," some 120 miles south of the line; and Badanah "old" and "new," 125 miles from Jordan and merely 40 miles from Iraq.

       Tiger Force's main base in central Arabia was northwest of Ha'il, 300 miles south of the Jordanian border. Here Bennett expected to conduct the crucial F-20 operations, and he spent considerable time at the facility. He had drafted plans long ago for this base: parallel runways a half-mile apart to minimize bomb damage, underground fuel tanks, second-level maintenance facilities, and prefab housing and administrative buildings. The king had been as good as his word; the Ha'il base would be operational within the month.

       Bennett also had consulted with the Saudi air force command on how best to defend Arabian airspace. He proposed a plan which would force the Israelis to fight the air battle in Saudi airspace, denying them the opportunity to inflict attrition over their own ground. In this manner, Arab pilots who ejected would be available to fight again. Israeli aircrews bailing out would be lost to Tel Aviv. And Bennett knew that, more than aircraft, tanks, or weapons, Israel above all valued her sons. As much, he thought in those bitter moments, as he had valued Claudia.

       The Turkish and Moroccan F -20s trickled in, ferried by Saudis as the Northrops became available. Tiger Force also made arrangements to take on two squadrons worth of Jordanian F-5 pilots. Bennett, recognizing their worth, knew the value of keeping a military organization intact. The Jordanians had flown together for years. British-trained, supported by an air-minded monarch, they were among the finest of all Arab pilots. Though displaced three years previously by the collapse of their government, they remained proficient and motivated. Bear Barnes and a few of the Saudis from Class One oversaw their transition to F-20s.

       Bennett's main problem in Riyadh was convincing some top-level Saudis that Tiger Force actually could fight the Israelis to a standstill. He had anticipated the Arab attitude, but its depth always surprised him. Confined as he had been to the task of building Tiger Force, with its high morale and professional competence, he realized with a start that the mystique of Israeli invincibility worked a strong influence on Arab minds. One hasty meeting in the Riyadh air ministry was typical.

       The discussion started easily enough when a colonel in the Saudi operations office complimented Bennett on Tiger Force's showing against the Israeli F-15s. Bennett's response was unexpected. "Actually, Colonel, we don't regard that action as very successful. We broke even, discounting the RF -4C."

       "But surely such a result must be considered a victory for us," the Saudi insisted. "It is most unusual for any Arab nation to fight the Israelis to a draw."

       Privately, Bennett conceded the point. How many times had Arab forces, their air arm quickly beaten, suffered devastation that only a modem army can receive from an effective, unopposed air force? Miles of burning tanks, trucks, and artillery pieces tossed about the desert like abandoned toys, the rotting bodies of Muslim soldiers bloating in the heat, was the collective memory of two generations.

       Bennett noted that each man in the room was hanging on his every word. He placed his hands on his hips and spoke forcibly, buoyed by the power of his conviction. "I don't know how much military history you gentlemen have read, but permit me an analogy. I'm reminded of the attitude in the German Imperial Navy during World War I. Though sailing in warships of murderous power, many of the Kaiser's admirals never adjusted psychologically to centuries of Rule Britannia. They found it hard to imagine Germany actually defeating the Royal Navy. So the Kaiser's dreadnaughts sortied believing they might lose, while the British never considered anything but defeating them."

       Bennett did not realize it immediately, but that short, heartfelt speech was repeated throughout the Royal Saudi Air Force by those who heard it.

       Thus, Bennett's "fade away plan," as he called it, won acceptance. The king himself still hoped to avoid a full-scale war in the region, for that would only endanger his nation and his throne. But the monarch's advisers--coaxed along by the suave Safad Fatah--agreed to the air plan at length. Satisfied that the spadework had been done, Bennett addressed himself to a final bit of pleading.

       That afternoon at tea with Fatah, Bennett had earnestly pressed his case. "Safad, I wish to ask you this favor for me." It was almost the first time Bennett had addressed the minister by his given name. "I have seen with my own eyes"-a favorite Arab phrase--"the effect of an undeclared war. It is said that such declarations are out of date in the late twentieth century. But please consider my request on behalf of Tiger Force and all of your Saudi warriors." He paused, looking Fatah square in the face. "If there is war with Israel, or with any other country, ask the king to issue a declaration of war. Make it formal, make it official, and make it stick."

       Fatah blinked, hiding the surprise he felt. It seemed such an unnecessary request. But he trusted the American's judgment. "What reason should I propose to His Majesty?"

       "Legal protection for your people under international law. I saw that absence of a declaration at work on my friends, on my country in my lifetime. At least provide your soldiers with access to the international community and legal recourse if there's a full-scale war." Leaning forward in his chair, Bennett concluded, "I'm not confusing a raid or a skirmish with a war. I recognize the legal and practical differences between them. But, Safad, if a real war is worth fighting, it is worth declaring. Will you pass on my thoughts to the king?"