Hostage

by Don Brown

  "Yes, Tom. I'm here. Although I don't know how much longer this angry crowd will let us broadcast. They're well aware that CNN is an American news organization.

  "This crowd began pouring in the streets only minutes after news broke of the attack. This is mayhem to say the least. Already thousands are on the streets, some weeping at the loss of the holy Islamic mosque. But mostly the cry is 'Death to America,' over and over again. And it appears for the moment that any goodwill the United States has built up over the years with Egypt, at least if this crowd is any indication, is gone.

  "Anna Katrova, CNN, Cairo."

  "And this seems to be the case from other Middle Eastern capitals as well," Tom Miller said, his face now filling the screen. "We have a live report from CNN's Adrienne Lippenour in Damascus."

  CNN's attractive, Lebanese-born Middle-Eastern correspondent appeared on the screen.

  "Tom, the situation here in Damascus is utter chaos. Massive outbursts of wailing can be heard through the streets as Muslims express their grief. Guns are being fired indiscriminately into the air in rage, another practice unique to the Islamic world. Reports are trickling in of pedestrians injured, a few killed, by bullets falling back to the earth and striking people on the head.

  "The government, after condemning the attack -- the American attack as it was called -- is calling for women and children to stay indoors, as widespread ransacking is now beginning. The situation is dangerous on the streets, but the government's call for restraint has been ignored. Thousands of Syrians poured into the streets anyway.

  "An angry mob is now gathered around the United States embassy here in Damascus, throwing bricks into the courtyard and demanding that the ambassador come out and meet with them. So far, no word from Ambassador Ari Malone, but the situation at the embassy looks dangerous, and frankly, it does not appear that the Syrian government is willing or even able to protect it, should that mob try storming the gates.

  "Adrienne Lippenour, CNN, Damascus. Back to you, Tom."

  "Praise be to Allah!" Hussein al-Akhma blurted, clicking off the television. "His plan is working."

  "You are a genius, Leader," Abdur said reverently. "All the Arab governments are furious with the Americans, Muslim brothers are pouring into the streets, and even the Americans are fighting amongst themselves."

  "The victory is Allah's," Hussein shot back. "But now, the split between America and those moderate traitors who call themselves Islamic will be irreparable. There will be, finally, a glorious political opportunity to consolidate the Arab States into a united Islamic superpower."

  "With you as its leader," Abdur said.

  "Yes," al-Akhma said. "If it be Allah's will." He stared at Abdur and in a suddenly snappish tone demanded, "What of the pilots who did this? Have they been detained?"

  "Leader, they bailed out over eastern Syria as instructed. Our small planes are searching for them now. It should be only a few hours."

  "Assad has agreed not to interfere?"

  "Yes, Leader. Through our back channels, we have secured promises that the Assad administration will not interfere with, nor ask any questions about, any Council of Ishmael operations in their Eastern frontier with Iraq."

  Hussein walked around his desk and slapped Abdur on the back. "We should have a drink to celebrate the end of American involvement in the Middle East. Don't you agree?"

  "I am honored, Leader, to drink with you to celebrate this momentous historic occasion."

  Syrian Desert

  Approximately 200 miles east of Damascus

  Near the Iraqi border

  Lieutenant Commander Mohammed "Mo" Quasay cupped his hand against his forehead and gazed across the barren desert toward the west.

  The sun was low, an orange ball setting over the direction from which they had flown. Three small single-engine planes had passed overhead, one coming in low and wagging its wings, the prearranged signal indicating that they had been spotted.

  Other than that, nothing.

  "To our knees, Hosni. Let us beseech Allah for his protection." He hoped the call to prayer would soothe Hosni Alhad's nerves. The junior officer had been shaking and talking of dying. He thought about ordering the lieutenant to surrender his firearm.

  "Yes, Commander. Prayer is in order," Hosni said.

  They fell to their knees on the desert floor, in the sand, facing Mecca. They had lifted groans of supplication to Allah for about fifteen minutes when they heard the first sound of freedom.

  "Do you hear that, Hosni?"

  The thwock-thwock-thwock was more pronounced now.

  "Allah always provides our needs," Hosni said, smiling.

  "Get ready for glory, my brother."

  "Look!" Hosni pointed. "There it is."

  The large helicopter, painted black with no markings or insignia, came skimming across the desert, hovered at a position about fifty yards from the two pilots, then gently feathered down to the surface.

  "Looks like a Huey," Hosni said. "I thought the Council owned Russian-made choppers."

  "The Council has enough money to buy anything they want on the black market, my brother. And hundreds of Hueys are available on the black market." Mohammed stood, and Hosni followed as the chopper's engines shut down. "Come on. Let's catch a ride to our new home."

  The fighter pilots started toward the chopper as the side door slid open. In the long shadows of dusk, it was too dark to see inside. But there was no visibility problem when four soldiers, wearing camouflaged uniforms and carrying submachineguns, piled out and pointed their weapons at the pilots. Four more piled out after the first wave.

  "Israeli Special Forces!" a voice shouted. "Move and you are dead."

  CHAPTER 30

  Situation Room

  The White House

  Washington, D.C.

  The National Security Council was created by Congress in 1947 as part of the Executive Office of the President, consisting of the vice president, the secretaries of state and defense, the director of the central intelligence agency, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and of course, the president's national security director.

  Mack Williams had not called an emergency meeting of the Council since he had been president, not even to discuss last year's infiltration of the U.S. Navy Chaplain Corps by radical Islamic imams. He'd hoped to finish his two terms without having to convene the Council in emergency session.

  But now, with the UN Security Council about to be called into emergency session, with governments around the globe condemning the United States for what was seemingly an overt attack on Islam, and with the Middle East literally about to explode, the president had no choice but to summon the group on short notice.

  "Be seated," President Mack Williams said as he entered the room. He tossed his jacket over the back of the big black-leather chair at the end of the table. Seated on the other three sides of the massive table were members of his National Security Council along with guests, experts, who might shed light on the current crisis. "All right. I want to know what happened, and I want to know now."

  Cynthia Hewitt, his national security advisor, spoke first. "If I may begin, Mr. President."

  "Sure, go ahead, Cyndi."

  "Sir, here's what we know. At approximately 1600 hours, Jerusalem time, this afternoon, two F-18 Super Hornets, U.S. planes, based off the USS Harry S. Truman, did in fact fire two Maverick missiles and one Harpoon missile into the Dome of the Rock. These attacks effectively leveled the Dome.

  "These planes were in fact cleared to fly over Israel at low altitudes -- the Israeli government had requested such overflights by American warplanes as a means of calming continued Israeli fears about hostile Syrian intentions. So the planes were supposed to be where they were.

  "After they fired the missiles," she continued, "both planes headed on a northwesterly course, crossing over the tip of Lebanon and then into Syria before disappearing from radar."

  "Did they land?"

  "We don't know, Mr. President.
" This was Admiral John F. Ayers, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. "We do know that the Israelis scrambled two F-15s to follow their course, but you know how the Israelis are. You don't get much information, even if you are their biggest benefactor."

  "But why?" The president pounded his fist on the table. "Were these pilots Jewish? Did they have an ax to grind with the Muslims?"

  "I may be able to shed some light on that, Mr. President," Secretary of Defense Erwin Lopez said.

  "What do you have, Erwin?"

  "Sir, actually, we've checked with the navy, and not only were the two pilots not Jewish, but they were Muslim."

  "This is getting stranger," the president said. "No Muslim in his right mind would attack that place. What about the NFOs on each of those F-18s?"

  "Both Christian, Mr. President. Lieutenant Mark Price and Lieutenant Pip Davis. Sort of average naval aviators, Mr. President. No apparent ax to grind."

  "With due respect, Mr. President" -- the national security advisor leaned forward intently -- "it is Muslims who in recent times have a history of blowing up buildings. Not Christians."

  "I understand that, Cyndi, but this was their building."

  "Mr. President," Lopez continued, "we are going to scrutinize the psychological profiles of the pilots and NFOs. We are also interviewing squadron members and other personnel on the Truman to determine if anything unusual was going on with these officers before their flights."

  An aide to Secretary of State Robert Mauney stepped into the room and spoke to the secretary. A moment later, Mauney nodded apologetically to the secretary of defense, then to the president. "Excuse me, Mr. Secretary, Mr. President . . . ?"

  "You have something for us, Mr. Secretary?"

  "Yes, Mr. President. We've just received a communique from our embassy in Tel Aviv. It appears that a commando team of Israeli Special Forces has flown into Syria and captured the two pilots of those F-18s."

  This announcement brought a stir of whispers around the table.

  "The Israelis," the secretary of state continued, "have announced their intentions to prosecute these guys for their illegal attack on Israel."

  "You sure about this, Secretary Mauney?" the president asked.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Mr. President." Secretary of Defense Lopez leaned forward.

  "Recognize the secretary of defense."

  "Sir, no matter what they've done, or no matter why they've done it, these guys are United States Navy pilots. The navy has jurisdiction over them, and if they're going to be prosecuted, the navy should prosecute." Lopez cut his eyes to Cyndi Hewitt, who met his gaze and nodded. "The Israelis don't have a right to hold them unless they're prisoners of war, and we aren't at war with Israel.

  "Besides," Lopez continued, "if we are going to find out the reasons for this travesty, we need full access to our pilots."

  "Agreed, Mr. President," the secretary of state said.

  "I too agree," the head of the National Security Council said.

  "Do we have a consensus then?" The president's gaze swept the table. "We are going to demand -- strike that -- we are going to formally request that the Israelis turn these pilots over to the United States for charges and possible prosecution.

  CHAPTER 31

  Bikur Holim Hospital

  Jerusalem

  Get somebody up here who speaks Russian!" the attending physician, Dr. Lawrence Berman, called out. "I think there's an orderly on the second floor who just emigrated a couple of years ago." Two minutes later, a nurse entered the emergency room with the Russian-speaking orderly.

  "I need you to translate for me," the doctor said in Hebrew. "Are you up to it?"

  "Yes, Doctor. Anything you need."

  "Good. Follow me."

  They stepped through the swinging double doors, turned left down a main corridor, then passed through another door, over which was written in Hebrew and English, "Family Waiting Area."

  A man in his late forties stood when he saw the doctor. His worried brown eyes seemed enormous in his sunken face. He wore an unkempt black beard and ragged clothes. A plain woman in a worn dress, her eyes red rimmed, pushed herself up heavily to stand beside him. Their three children remained seated, their eyes wide and fearful.

  The man blurted something in Russian that the doctor didn't understand.

  "He say, 'How is my daughter?' " the orderly said.

  "Tell him that his daughter suffered severe head wounds from shrapnel and that there was great loss of blood."

  The orderly translated, and Alexander Kweskin, his brows contorted, tears filling his eyes, again blurted something at the doctor that he didn't understand.

  "He say," the orderly said, " 'Is my daughter okay? She is my firstborn, Doctor. We just came to Israel. She have to live. Will she live?' "

  Doctor Goldstein hesitated, looking deeply into the man's eyes. This cup he wished he could pass to another. But he could not.

  "Tell him . . . tell him I am very sorry, but her injuries were too severe. We did everything we could, but I am afraid she is gone."

  A look of dread crossed the orderly's face, but he nodded to the doctor. Then slowly, in a sympathetic voice, he began to translate.

  Alexander Kweskin's face turned deathly pale. "Etta nee Pravda!" he whispered, then dropped to his knees, sobbing. It is not true!

  "Nyet. Pazhalsta! Ne maya kraseeva Anna!" Yael Kweskin joined her husband on the floor, clinging to him, heaving, sobbing. No, please, not my beautiful Anna!

  Goldstein nodded his thanks to the orderly. "I'll stay with them. Please, go find a rabbi."

  "Yes, Doctor."

  Israeli cabinet meeting

  Emergency session

  Government building

  Jerusalem

  I cannot believe the audacity of the imperial Americans!" Prime Minister Daniel Rothstein stormed. The prime minister read the communique again and then slammed his fist on the table. Still fuming, he picked it up, peering out at the eighteen other members. "This message has just been delivered to me from the president of the United States.

  Dear Mr. Prime Minister,

  At this hour of crisis and peril, the United States government and the American people join with the good people of Israel in mourning for the perilous and inexplicable attacks which occurred earlier today in Jerusalem.

  While the facts and circumstances concerning the cause and motive for this senseless destruction are unclear, one thing is clear, which I wish to assure you of in no uncertain terms:

  Even though it appears that American military warplanes and missiles were used in this attack, be assured that this despicable attack was not ordered, suggested, or sanctioned by the United States government.

  Please take me at my word, Mr. Prime Minister. I had no advance warning or notice of this atrocity, and my government joins all the other governments in the world who have already issued condemnations against this act of violence.

  Terrorism, Mr. Prime Minister, as your country knows best from having felt its indiscriminate brunt so often over the years, often manifests itself in inexplicably rotten forms. When American airliners became human-filled missiles, exploding into our Pentagon and Twin Towers, at first, rampant confusion reigned. But our government fully investigated, got to the bottom of that atrocity, and punished those involved.

  Likewise, we shall punish the perpetrators of this crime.

  With the Government of Israel, our long-standing democratic ally in the Middle East, we share the mutual goal of eradicating terrorism forever.

  Therefore, I write not only to express my sympathies, but also to propose a plan to most effectively pursue our mutual goal of bringing the criminals responsible for this crime to justice.

  To that extent, we have been informed by the United States ambassador to your country that Israeli military forces have successfully captured two American pilots whose planes were apparently involved in these attacks.

  Under our Uniform Code of Military Justice, and under
American jurisprudence, a citizen of the United States is innocent until proven guilty. Therefore, I cannot speculate at this time on the guilt or innocence of these pilots.

  I can say this, however, that if these pilots are in the least manner implicated, they will be dealt with in a manner similar to the three Islamic chaplains who last year infiltrated our military and attempted to sow terrorist seeds within our navy.

  To make this determination, however, we will need to take custody of these pilots and return them to the United States, where the appropriate investigation and action will be taken in accordance with U.S. military law.

  Therefore, the United States government requests of the Israeli government that at the earliest time possible, arrangements be made for transfer of the captured pilots from Israeli authorities to American authorities for transportation to the custody of the United States Navy.

  Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister, for your understanding of this request, and for your anticipated cooperation.

  Very truly yours,

  Mack Williams

  President of the United States

  With a grunt of disgust, the prime minister tossed the letter onto the table.

  "Let me get this straight," Defense Minister Aeriel Levine said. "United States jets attack Israel -- not the most popular site to Jews but nevertheless a site under Israeli control. Dozens of Arabs die, reports surface of Jews dying as well, my special forces go out and capture the pilots at great personal risk, across Syrian lines, effectively doing the Americans' dirty work for them. And now they want the pilots back. Just like that?" Levine flailed his hand in the air.