believe it, sir. We copied it off the CNN satellite feed, and
Atlanta
is fast-tracking it onto the network. I don't know how it got past Israeli censors. Anyway—”
“Okay, here it comes.” Ryan rubbed his eyes clear just in time. He had the TV sound muted to keep from disturbing his wife. The commentary was unnecessary in any case. “Dear God in heaven . . .”
“That about covers it, sir,” the senior watch officer agreed.
“Send my driver out now. Call the Director, tell him to get in fast. Get hold of the duty officer at the White House Signals Office. He'll alert the people on his end. We need the DDI, and the desks for
Israel
,
Jordan
—hell, that whole area, all the desks. Make sure State's up to speed—”
“They have their own—”
“I know that. Call them anyway. Never assume anything in this business, okay?”
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
“Yeah, send me about four hours' more sleep.” Ryan set the phone down.
“Jack . . . was that—” Cathy was sitting up. She'd just caught the replay.
“It sure was, babe.”
“What's it mean?”
“It means the Arabs just figured out how to destroy
Israel
,” Unless we can save the place.
Ninety minutes later, Ryan turned on the
West Bend
drip machine behind his desk before running over the notes from the night duty staff. It would be a day for coffee. He'd shaved in the car on the way in, and a look at the mirror showed that he'd not done a very good job of it. Jack waited until he had a full cup before marching into the Director's office. Charles Alden was there with Cabot.
“Good morning,” the National Security Advisor said.
“Yeah,” the Deputy Director replied in a husky voice. “What do you suppose is good about it? The President know yet?”
“No, I didn't want to disturb him until we know something. I'll talk to him when he wakes up—sixish. Marcus, what do you think of your Israeli friends now?”
“Have we developed anything else, Jack?” Director Cabot asked his subordinate.
“The shooter is a police captain, according to the insignia. No name on him yet, no background. The Israelis have him in the jug somewhere and they're not saying anything. From the tape it looks like two definitely dead, probably a few more with minor injuries. Chief of Station has nothing he can report to us except that it really happened, and we have that on tape. Nobody seems to know where the TV crew is. We did not have any assets at the site when all this happened, so we're going exclusively from the news coverage.” Again, Ryan didn't add. The morning was bad enough. “
Temple
Mount
is shut down, guarded by their army now, nobody in or out, and they've closed access to the Wailing Wall also. That may be a first. Our embassy over there has not said anything, they're waiting for instructions from here. Same story for the others. No official reaction from
Europe
yet, but I expect that to change within the hour. They're at work already, and they got the same pictures from their Sky News service.”
It's almost four,“ Alden said, wearily checking his watch. ”In three hours people are going to have their breakfast upset—what a hell of a thing to see in the morning. Gentlemen, I think this one's going to be big. Ryan, you called it. I remember what you said last month."
“Sooner or later, the Arabs had to wise up,” Jack said. Alden nodded agreement. It was gracious of him, Jack noted. He'd said the same thing in one of his books several years earlier.
“I think
Israel
can weather this, they always have—” Jack cut his Director off.
“No way, boss,” Ryan said. Someone had to straighten Cabot out. “It's what Napoleon said about the moral and the physical.
Israel
depends absolutely on having the moral high-ground. Their whole cachet is that they are the only democracy in the region, that
Atlanta
is fast-tracking it onto the network. I don't know how it got past Israeli censors. Anyway—”
“Okay, here it comes.” Ryan rubbed his eyes clear just in time. He had the TV sound muted to keep from disturbing his wife. The commentary was unnecessary in any case. “Dear God in heaven . . .”
“That about covers it, sir,” the senior watch officer agreed.
“Send my driver out now. Call the Director, tell him to get in fast. Get hold of the duty officer at the White House Signals Office. He'll alert the people on his end. We need the DDI, and the desks for
Israel
,
Jordan
—hell, that whole area, all the desks. Make sure State's up to speed—”
“They have their own—”
“I know that. Call them anyway. Never assume anything in this business, okay?”
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
“Yeah, send me about four hours' more sleep.” Ryan set the phone down.
“Jack . . . was that—” Cathy was sitting up. She'd just caught the replay.
“It sure was, babe.”
“What's it mean?”
“It means the Arabs just figured out how to destroy
Israel
,” Unless we can save the place.
Ninety minutes later, Ryan turned on the
West Bend
drip machine behind his desk before running over the notes from the night duty staff. It would be a day for coffee. He'd shaved in the car on the way in, and a look at the mirror showed that he'd not done a very good job of it. Jack waited until he had a full cup before marching into the Director's office. Charles Alden was there with Cabot.
“Good morning,” the National Security Advisor said.
“Yeah,” the Deputy Director replied in a husky voice. “What do you suppose is good about it? The President know yet?”
“No, I didn't want to disturb him until we know something. I'll talk to him when he wakes up—sixish. Marcus, what do you think of your Israeli friends now?”
“Have we developed anything else, Jack?” Director Cabot asked his subordinate.
“The shooter is a police captain, according to the insignia. No name on him yet, no background. The Israelis have him in the jug somewhere and they're not saying anything. From the tape it looks like two definitely dead, probably a few more with minor injuries. Chief of Station has nothing he can report to us except that it really happened, and we have that on tape. Nobody seems to know where the TV crew is. We did not have any assets at the site when all this happened, so we're going exclusively from the news coverage.” Again, Ryan didn't add. The morning was bad enough. “
Temple
Mount
is shut down, guarded by their army now, nobody in or out, and they've closed access to the Wailing Wall also. That may be a first. Our embassy over there has not said anything, they're waiting for instructions from here. Same story for the others. No official reaction from
Europe
yet, but I expect that to change within the hour. They're at work already, and they got the same pictures from their Sky News service.”
It's almost four,“ Alden said, wearily checking his watch. ”In three hours people are going to have their breakfast upset—what a hell of a thing to see in the morning. Gentlemen, I think this one's going to be big. Ryan, you called it. I remember what you said last month."
“Sooner or later, the Arabs had to wise up,” Jack said. Alden nodded agreement. It was gracious of him, Jack noted. He'd said the same thing in one of his books several years earlier.
“I think
Israel
can weather this, they always have—” Jack cut his Director off.
“No way, boss,” Ryan said. Someone had to straighten Cabot out. “It's what Napoleon said about the moral and the physical.
Israel
depends absolutely on having the moral high-ground. Their whole cachet is that they are the only democracy in the region, that
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