Warriors

Edward Lawrence was looking for a job, we should hire him right away.'

The chief tapped a pencil on his desk. 'Apparently somebody else thought of it first. I only wonder why they disappeared like that. It tells us they're aware of our surveillance.' Geller bit on the eraser. 'What's your estimate, Levi?'

Bar-EI was not used to being asked what he thought-only what he knew. 'Sir, I would have to say that probably… ' Think fast, Levi, they're testing you, he thought. 'Sir, it's only a guess, but perhaps the Saudis feared we would expose the men to their government.' No, no. They've done nothing wrong, and the State Department already knows Bennett visited Arabia, quite legally. 'The only other thing is-well, Colonel, are we planning a wet operation against them?'

The section chief returned Bar-El's wide-eyed expression with emotionless brown eyes. 'No, of course not. We have two Mexican nationals who can do such work for us in that area, but there is no need. At least not now.'

Bar-El realized the recent Israeli intelligence operations in the United States would make such a move politically impossible. And besides, far better to run an assassination operation outside the United States, if it came to that.

'But,' Geller continued, pointing his pencil at the lieutenant, 'I think you are getting warm. The Saudis may fear we would eliminate Bennett and Edwards. Therefore, they became overly anxious and moved the men too quickly.' He nibbled the eraser again. 'Whatever they're up to, we'll know of it soon enough. Keep me informed, Levi. Thank you.'

Los Angeles

The morning after eluding the Israeli team in San Diego, the two aviators entered an apartment on Beverly Glen Boulevard. Damned amazing, thought Bennett. He'd never been in Beverly Hills before. 'The Saudis thought of everything,' he said as he and Lawrence inspected the furnished apartment.

Lawrence opened a cardboard box on the dining room table and emitted a low whistle. 'I'll say they thought of everything. Check this out.' He held up fifty crisp new hundred-dollar bills. 'Let's go to Vegas and let this ride one time. Get in practice for Tailhook. '

The annual Tailhook reunion at the Las Vegas Hilton was a landmark event in naval aviation. Only now living down its riotous early reputation, the symposium had become more professional. But still it was great fun.

Bennett.laughed. 'Hey, do you remember Tailhook '74 when Hoser McAllister disappeared Friday night? They didn't miss him till Saturday afternoon. Found him laid out in a closet, dead to the world with one bare foot and a toe tag. Even had his arms folded across his chest-with that lily in his hands.'

The men found clothes in the bedroom, each bathroom stocked with toilet articles, and the refrigerator crammed with enough food for two weeks. There was even a rowing machine in one bedroom. Lawrence noticed the coffeemaker and began brewing a pot. 'You notice, the Moslems didn't leave you any booze. By the way, when we get wherever the hell we're going, will the guys be able to drink or will they have to go cold turkey for a couple years?'

'We'll be based in Bahrain, which is pretty lax by Muslim standards. Actually, I think there's two reasons for that. One, it keeps us Yankee air pirates out of Arabia most of the time, and two, we'll be positioned to intercept hostiles from Iran if need be. But in Arabia the guys better get used to the 40-weight oil that passes for coffee. '

The redhead flashed a white grin. 'I always knew clean living would be its own reward. I'll be the only instructor who's not having DTs after a couple months.'

Bennett said, 'Like I always told you, I never trust a fighter pilot who doesn't drink. Actually, we'll have our own compound. I checked with Fatah, and Bahrain is a lot looser situation than Arabia. Our guys can hoot with the owls, and there's European women employed in Bahrain as nurses, dental technicians and the like.' Bennett held up a warning finger. 'But in Arabia, where we'll be spending a lot of time, it's the straight and narrow for all hands.'

'You think that'll scare off many guys?'

'Some, I suppose. We'll just lay down the law. The rule is, anybody who takes one drink too many in Bahrain or who gets out of line in any way in Arabia gets a one-time warning. Especially if any of our students are around. A second time gets the offender a one-way ticket home.'

'Fine by me. One thing I don't understand, though. I don't have my passport. How do I get out of Uncle Sugar and into the land of oil wells and camels?'

'Fatah said on the phone that this unexpected change of plans would require some innovation. I don't have mine, either. He's supposed to call in a couple days to fill us in. Meanwhile, we sit tight. We can use the time to lay some groundwork.'

The next forty-eight hours passed more quickly than either man had expected. The more Bennett studied the situation, the more he was convinced the answer was men more than airplanes. Late the second evening he tossed his pen down and rubbed his eyes. A stack of papers testified to the work they had accomplished.

'You know, Ed, I've been thinking of the Ticonderoga cruise when we lost five pilots in the first two line periods. You remember? We got replacement aircraft but no new sports until we got back.'

Munching a sandwich, Lawrence said, 'That was before my first tour, but I sure heard about it.'

'Oh, that's right,' Bennett said. 'God, it all runs together sometimes. But the point still applies. Like the RAF in the Battle of Britain. Their problem wasn't so much Spitfires and Hurricanes. It was experienced pilots. Every civilian who got killed in London meant a load of bombs that should have been dropped on airfields. The Germans had the RAF on the ropes and switched from attacking airfields to cities.'

Lawrence bit into his sandwich again, wondering where this led. 'Well, my point is,' Bennett continued, 'that nothing's changed today. Even with limited numbers of high-priced birds, it's a lot easier to produce a fighter plane than a proficient fighter pilot. It takes, what? Eight to ten months to roll out an airplane from the factory? It takes about five years to put a combat-ready pilot in that bird's cockpit.

'This is where we come in, why the Saudis really want us. They know they can buy airplanes almost anywhere. But producing world-class pilots is a much bigger job.'

The phone rang then, the first time since they had entered the apartment. Lawrence picked' up the receiver. 'Hello.'

'This is Safad Fatah.'

'Oh, sure. Hi. This is Ed Lawrence.'

'Ah, Mr. Lawrence, just the man I need to talk to. Do you still have your house key with you?'

'Yes. In my pocket.'

'Splendid. Please leave it in the mailbox. And tell me where we may find your passport. It will be delivered today.'

Bennett heard Lawrence describe the desk drawer containing his papers. Lawrence also asked why it had not been obtained before.

'Dear sir,' said Fatah in a diplomatic tone, 'if we had done that, it would have given our other friends time to trace you.'

The redhead felt like a student asking what day it was at graduation. 'Mr. Fatah, I need to make arrangements with my airline and the Naval Reserve. What's the situation?'

The response was immediate. 'We have sent letters over your signature to all parties concerned. We shall handle any follow-up details for you on this end.'

Lawrence was impressed. Like Bennett, he appreciated professionalism wherever he encountered it.

'Oh, one more thing. What about my Porsche? We left it at the second restaurant.'

'Mr. Lawrence, we shall buy you another Porsche if needed. I will not stay on the line any longer. Tell Commander Bennett that you will be contacted before much longer, and I extend my regards. '

The line went dead.

Lawrence left his house key in the apartment's mailbox that night. At 0800 there was a knock on the door. Bennett opened it, drowsily rubbing his eyes, and looked around. Seeing no one, he glanced down. There was a paper sack with Lawrence's passport and his own. Funny, I didn't ask them about mine. He paged through it. They don't have a key to my place, or the code to my alarm system, he thought. Then it occurred to him. This was not his original. It was completely authentic, using an