Read Online By the Rivers of Babylon by Nelson DeMille - Free Book Online
Authors: Nelson DeMille
Tags: Fiction
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the arming and maintenance of those twelve craft at the far end of this airfield. Teddy Laskov assures me that he can spot, track, intercept, and shoot down anything in the sky, including Foxbats, SAM’s, and Satan himself, if he gets on the radar.” He looked around the room over the heads of the men and women assembled there. “Air Force Intelligence informs me that not only have the guerillas never had the capability to make an aerial attack, but they have none now. But
if
anyone were to mount an attack against those Concordes, they would have to put up, into the air, what would amount to the most powerful air fleet in the Mediterranean.” Talman stroked his mustache. “Teddy Laskov is the best we’ve got. As soon as those birds break over the coast, they are my responsibility, and I accept that responsibility with no hesitation.” He walked back to his seat.
Teddy Laskov, who had been in the corridor listening, opened the door quietly. Several heads turned toward the object of Talman’s praise. Laskov smiled self-consciously and waved his hand to indicate that no one was to pay him any attention. He stood against the wall.
Miriam Bernstein had been trying to catch Hausner’s eye. Hausner studiously ignored her. He looked around the table and toward the seats along the wall, but no one appeared to have anything further to add. “All right, then—”
Miriam Bernstein rose. “Mr. Hausner.”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to add something here.”
“Oh.”
“Thank you.” She offered Hausner a smile which he seemed not to notice. She looked down and shuffled through some papers in front of her, then looked up. “I’ve been listening very carefully to what has been said here, and while I’m impressed with the precautions that have been taken, I am frankly worried about the spirit they were taken in and especially the language used to describe these precautions. Gentlemen, we are going to this
veida
, this Conference, to make a
Brit Shalom
, a Covenant of Peace.”
Miriam Bernstein paused and looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each man in turn. “Talking of shooting things from the sky, of questioning suspected Arabs in friendly countries with much vigor, of sending Army spies into Arab lands—these are justifiable under some circumstances, but at this moment in our history, I would take the risk of keeping a very low, nonaggressive profile. We don’t want to go into the United Nations like a bunch of cowboys with our six-shooters blazing. We want to go there looking as if we came to talk peace.”
She drew her lips together as she thought of the words she would use to speak reason without appearing to speak surrender. She had been associated with the peace wing of her party for many years and felt obligated to give this warning as they stood on the threshold of seeing peace become a reality. She had not lived in a place that was at peace for one day in her entire life. She extended her hands, palms up, in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m not trying to create a problem where none exists. I’m just saying that all military and intelligence operations should come to an almost complete halt during the weeks ahead. This is an act of faith on our part. Somebody has to holster his gun first. Even if you should see Satan himself on your radar screen, General Talman, don’t shoot him out of the sky with one of your missiles. Just explain to him that you are going on a peace mission and that you will not be goaded into an aggressive act. He will see that you mean to have your peace, and that—and Providence— will send him away.” She looked around the room and her eyes fixed on Teddy Laskov for a split second.
He looked back and found something in those eyes that few people had ever seen, but he wasn’t quite sure what to call it.
She looked up over the heads of the people around her. Outside, past the airfield, were the rocky hills where Khabbani and his men were arguing about when to fire. The
if
anyone were to mount an attack against those Concordes, they would have to put up, into the air, what would amount to the most powerful air fleet in the Mediterranean.” Talman stroked his mustache. “Teddy Laskov is the best we’ve got. As soon as those birds break over the coast, they are my responsibility, and I accept that responsibility with no hesitation.” He walked back to his seat.
Teddy Laskov, who had been in the corridor listening, opened the door quietly. Several heads turned toward the object of Talman’s praise. Laskov smiled self-consciously and waved his hand to indicate that no one was to pay him any attention. He stood against the wall.
Miriam Bernstein had been trying to catch Hausner’s eye. Hausner studiously ignored her. He looked around the table and toward the seats along the wall, but no one appeared to have anything further to add. “All right, then—”
Miriam Bernstein rose. “Mr. Hausner.”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to add something here.”
“Oh.”
“Thank you.” She offered Hausner a smile which he seemed not to notice. She looked down and shuffled through some papers in front of her, then looked up. “I’ve been listening very carefully to what has been said here, and while I’m impressed with the precautions that have been taken, I am frankly worried about the spirit they were taken in and especially the language used to describe these precautions. Gentlemen, we are going to this
veida
, this Conference, to make a
Brit Shalom
, a Covenant of Peace.”
Miriam Bernstein paused and looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each man in turn. “Talking of shooting things from the sky, of questioning suspected Arabs in friendly countries with much vigor, of sending Army spies into Arab lands—these are justifiable under some circumstances, but at this moment in our history, I would take the risk of keeping a very low, nonaggressive profile. We don’t want to go into the United Nations like a bunch of cowboys with our six-shooters blazing. We want to go there looking as if we came to talk peace.”
She drew her lips together as she thought of the words she would use to speak reason without appearing to speak surrender. She had been associated with the peace wing of her party for many years and felt obligated to give this warning as they stood on the threshold of seeing peace become a reality. She had not lived in a place that was at peace for one day in her entire life. She extended her hands, palms up, in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m not trying to create a problem where none exists. I’m just saying that all military and intelligence operations should come to an almost complete halt during the weeks ahead. This is an act of faith on our part. Somebody has to holster his gun first. Even if you should see Satan himself on your radar screen, General Talman, don’t shoot him out of the sky with one of your missiles. Just explain to him that you are going on a peace mission and that you will not be goaded into an aggressive act. He will see that you mean to have your peace, and that—and Providence— will send him away.” She looked around the room and her eyes fixed on Teddy Laskov for a split second.
He looked back and found something in those eyes that few people had ever seen, but he wasn’t quite sure what to call it.
She looked up over the heads of the people around her. Outside, past the airfield, were the rocky hills where Khabbani and his men were arguing about when to fire. The
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