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“How could this be an opportunity?”
“Send in the army and declare a curfew on Hebron. Secure the area and leave the rest up to me. By the time the UN inspectors arrive there will be ample evidence of a bomb-making factory. You will stifle the critics in your cabinet and the UN will be appeased.”
Goldberg thought about it for a second, then slowly began to nod. It was his only option. It was war, and in war the truth was almost always the first casualty.
54
The rest of the meeting at the White House was dominated by what would happen at the UN. They all agreed that Israel was about to be strung up and that for the first time the United States might not be able to stem the backlash. Valerie Jones gave everyone a stern warning about the press. No one was to give any interviews without checking with her first. The last thing they needed right now was individual cabinet members and administration officials contradicting each other. Storms like these could be weathered, but only if everyone hung together. They could not afford to have the Hayes administration look as if it were in disarray.
When the president ended the meeting by standing, Kennedy caught Jones’s eye and held up five fingers. The president’s chief of staff nodded and looked down at her appointment book. The president’s day was already running behind, but Jones was more than up to the task of juggling meetings and canceling or shortening events. Kennedy didn’t ask often and considering the events of last night her request was undoubtedly important.
Jones looked over at her boss, who was talking to Secretary of State Berg. They were standing under a portrait of Theodore Roosevelt. The chief of staff returned her attention to Kennedy and said, “Wait in the Oval and I’ll bring him in as soon as I can tear him away.”
Kennedy thanked her and then left the Cabinet Room with Rapp and Turbes. As the three of them entered the Oval Office, Rapp said, “He already has his mind made up on this thing.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“He’s not going to like what we have to say,” added Rapp.
“No, he won’t.”
Before the three of them had a chance to settle in, the president entered the office, with Jones and his personal secretary. The president went straight to his desk and deposited a leather folder. His personal secretary began reciting a list of things that needed his attention while Jones stood off to one side looking through a stack of pink message slips that one of her people had just handed her. She froze on one and then looked up to the president.
“The Saudi ambassador wants to see you as soon as possible.”
Kennedy suddenly became very interested in what the president had to say to his chief of staff. She took several steps forward and listened.
Hayes had a very warm relationship with the Saudis. Almost without thought he replied, “Set it up.”
“Sir, if I may.” Kennedy stepped even closer. Looking to the president’s secretary the DCI said, “Betty, would you please excuse us.” The secretary honored Kennedy’s request without hesitation. Once she was gone and the soundproof door was closed, Kennedy said, “Sir, there have been some developments that I think you need to know about before you schedule that meeting with the ambassador.”
Hayes raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Such as?”
Kennedy gestured toward the two couches by the fireplace. “I think we should sit. This might take some time.”
Hayes paused for a moment as he looked down at the workload on his desk but then agreed. Kennedy and Turbes sat on one couch while Jones and the president took the other one. Rapp chose to stand rather than sit.
Kennedy started by saying, “Early this morning we received some intel from the Brits. As you know per our informal agreement with the Saudis we do not spy on them in an active fashion. The Brits, however, have no such agreement and are kind enough to share with us whatever they dig up.”
Kennedy never wasted the president’s time so he assumed this was good. “And what did they dig up?”
Kennedy opened a red file marked EYES ONLY and was about to hand it to the president when she decided it would be easier if she showed it to him. Getting up she moved to the other couch and sat on the president’s left. She pointed to a five-by-eight, black-and-white photograph and asked, “Do you know who this is?”
Hayes studied the photo of a plump man wearing a suit and walking into a hotel, surrounded by several people, including one very large Asian man. It was obvious from the quality of the shot that it was a surveillance photograph. There was something oddly familiar about the man in the suit, but the president couldn’t place him. After a moment he shook his head, and said, “No.”
In a way this surprised Kennedy, and then again it didn’t. Prince Omar had a very strange relationship with his royal family. Kennedy had yet to figure out if his lack of official association was by choice or by the edict of his brother, the crown prince. “His name is Prince Omar. He’s a bit of an outcast from the royal family.”
“Why?”
“He’s led a very flashy life over the years. He’s a big gambler, a womanizer and recreational drug user.”
“He sounds like quite a few of the other family members.”
“Yes, but he’s the direct brother to the crown prince and fifteen years ago
was in real contention with his brother to become king. He’s very outspoken and unlike many of his cousins, uncles and nephews, he’s actually made a fortune all on his own.”
“That is unusual,” admitted the president. The 5,000-plus Saudi royal family was notorious for their lavish spending habits, not for their ability to support themselves. “How did he make his money?”
