us a load of organic fertilizer, and the sooner we recognize that, the better off we’ll be.”
Secretary Lloyd was pacing back and forth, the length of the Oval Office. Myles could feel his frustration. They’d known each other for thirty years, and he knew Lloyd regarded himself as the practical one, and Myles as the idealist.
The president asked, “Why didn’t the Arak file change your mind?”
“Because it’s no different than the first one. If the Iranians can create one file, why not two? Others have done it to us, and we’ve done it as well. Forged documents are an established part of intelligence tradecraft.”
“So it comes down to whether you think this file is authentic or not.”
Lloyd stopped pacing to stand in front of Myles’s desk. “Sir, as secretary of state, my official judgment is that we have been deceived by a long-term Iranian disinformation campaign. Their true status is now being revealed as they prepare to test a weapon, an overt but necessary step. Not only does a test allow the bomb designers to gain critical information, it shows the world that one more nation has joined the nuclear club.”
Lloyd pressed his point. “An Israeli attack within the next few days is inevitable. The argument about whether or not the Iranians have the bomb is moot. The real question is, What do we do when the shooting starts?”
Myles shook his head. “I want to stop the shooting before it even begins. Another war in the Persian Gulf won’t solve anything.”
Lloyd spoke slowly, picking his words. “I will remind you, sir, that our intelligence people have always called an Iranian nuclear test the “starting bell” for an Israeli attack. Our people also said that because of that, the Iranians wouldn’t test the first device, but the third or fourth one. If the Iranians already have two or more nukes, then war may be the only way to stop Iran from using the bombs on Israel, or us.”
Myles’s intercom buzzed. “Dr. Kirkpatrick has arrived.”
“Thank you, Evangeline. Please send him in.”
“Reinforcements, Mr. President?”
Myles laughed grimly. “New information, Mr. Secretary.”
The national security advisor was hardly in the room before announcing, “The Israelis said, ‘Thanks, we’ll look at it carefully.’ “
“And this is Mossad’s official response?” Myles prompted.
“I spoke to Yitzhak Harel, Mossad’s number two, personally,” Kirkpatrick answered. He sounded tired, and disappointed. “He said it would be considered as part of their total intelligence picture.”
“Which is politespeak for giving more weight to the test site and the IAEA findings.”
“As they should,” Lloyd added. He turned to Kirkpatrick. “Doctor, which type of intelligence is more reliable, HUMINT or physical evidence?”
“You’re allowed to disagree with our findings if you want to, Mr. Secretary. We’re trying to find a solution that accounts for all the data. A responsible analyst — ”
“Did you get any idea of their time line?” Myles interrupted. As vital as the Opal files were, getting a sense of Israeli intentions was even more important. And the last thing he needed was a fistfight between his national security advisor and the secretary of state.
Lloyd bristled. “My people will tell me, if and when the Israelis tell us.”
“By which time it will be too late,” Myles answered impatiently “They’ve already written us off. We won’t hear about it until planes are in the air.”
Kirkpatrick answered, “I asked him fiat out what their official assessment was. He said, ‘They have the bomb. We are trying to find out how many and where they are.’ After that, Harel paused for a moment, and added, ‘We must give Laskov our best estimate in less than two days,’ and then he hung up. By the way,” Kirkpatrick added, “General Laskov commands their air force.”
Myles sighed. “Good work, Ray. That’s what we needed to know. We’ve got less than two days to stop them.”
Lloyd acted surprised. “Sir, I don’t believe that’s wise. It may not even be possible.”
“More ‘official judgments,’ Andy?”
“Sir, I say again, the Israelis are going to attack, and we’d best be prepared with our own response. There’s a lot we can do behind the scenes to help them. And frankly, Mr. President, if you want a short war, with a favorable outcome for our interests, our best course is to join them.”
“Mr. Secretary!” Kirkpatrick almost rose out of his chair, shock in his expression as well as his words. “A combined U.S. and Israeli attack — ”
Myles held out a hand, cutting off the rest of Kirkpatrick’s outburst. “I’ve been waiting twenty minutes for you to say that, Andy.”
“Iran’s been a bleeding sore in the region since the Revolution — assassinations in foreign countries, exporting terrorism, attacks on Israel through Hamas and Hezbollah, helping the insurgents in Iraq. The only reason they haven’t done more is because they can’t. If Israel’s going to attack, I say help them to do a good job of it, then we can all relax.”
Myles’s temper started to show in his voice. “First you take over General Duvall’s job, now you want to replace Ray here as well? ‘Relax’ is the last thing we’ll be able to do.” The president gestured to Kirkpatrick. “Ray is right. A war between Israel and Iran is bad enough. Israeli bombs can start a war, but heaven knows how it will end, or where it will spread. And you want us in that mess? That’s not judgment, that’s emotion.”
Myles stood and walked to the windows. It was springtime in Washington, but the view didn’t calm him. “Mr. Secretary, it’s the State Department’s job to help me keep the U.S. out of trouble. Are you sure you’re being objective?”
“Mr. President, if you have lost confidence in my judgment, then it’s best if I resign. I can have — ”
“No, Andy. You don’t get to take your ball and go home. We’re in a crisis, and I need you at state, but working with me. My official position is that the Iranians are not close to finishing a weapon and that if the Israelis attack, they will be making a mistake that will cost everyone dearly. Your task is to communicate our deep desire for peace throughout the region, while protecting the rights of each nation to live without fear of destruction.”
“Weasel words,” grumbled Lloyd. “It’s an impossible situation.”
“As long as nobody’s shooting, nothing’s impossible,” Myles answered.
“And I know how this town works,” the president continued. His voice became hard. “Do not repeat your opinions of either our intelligence assessments or possible courses of action outside this office. If I read about any dispute between state and the Oval Office in the days to come, I won’t fire you, not right now, but you will lose my trust and respect.”
Myles continued, “I will make sure you are included in the distribution of all relevant intelligence and are present at all the national security council meetings. You can give the State Department’s input at those times.”
Lloyd started to speak, then stopped and nodded. He left without saying another word.
After a moment, Kirkpatrick said, “I’m sorry, Mr. President. I know you were close friends.”
“And still are, I hope,” Myles answered. “What good are friends you can’t argue with?… Although we’ve never been this far apart.” He sighed, but then his tone changed. “And that goes for you, too, Doctor. If this dispute appears in the media, I’ll come looking for you first. I’ve known Andy a lot longer than I’ve known you.”
Nodding, Kirkpatrick got up to leave, but Myles had one more item to discuss. “Have you read Hardy into Opal yet?”
“No, sir. I was going to see who else we could find who’s served with Guthrie. I’m a little uneasy about bringing in someone from the legislative branch — even if he is from our party.”
“I understand the complications, but let’s brief the senator into the program. I think I have a job for him.”
Ramey had promised lots of short breaks during the walk that night, but had still set an ambitious goal: fifteen kilometers.
As before, they were in the now-familiar diamond. They walked quietly, Shirin and Yousef sometimes speaking softly, the radio headset so silent that Jerry checked occasionally to make sure it was still working. After
