Honor Among Thieves
“Yes, Mr. Secretary,” said Kratz.
“This plan to assassinate Saddam. How long have you been working on it?”
“Nine months to a year,” replied Kratz.
“And it obviously entailed your getting a person or persons into Saddam’s palace or bunker?”
Kratz hesitated.
“Yes or no will suffice,” said Christopher.
“Yes, sir.”
“My question is extremely simple, Colonel. May we therefore take advantage of the year’s preparation you’ve already carried out and—dare I suggest—steal your plan?”
“I would have to take advice from my government before I could consider…”
Christopher took an envelope from his pocket. “I will be happy to let you see Mr. Rabin’s letter to me on this subject, but first allow me to read it to you.”
The Secretary opened the envelope and extracted the letter. He placed his glasses on the end of his nose and unfolded the single sheet.
From the Prime Minister
Dear Mr. Secretary,
You are correct in thinking that the Prime Minister of the State of Israel is Chief Minister and Minister of Defense while at the same time having overall responsibility for Mossad.
However, I confess that when it comes to any ideas we may be considering for future relations with Saddam, I have only been kept in touch with the outline proposals. I have not yet been fully briefed on the finer details.
If you believe on balance that such information as we possess may make the difference between success or failure with your present difficulties, I will instruct Colonel Kratz to brief you fully and without reservation.
Yours,
Yitzhak Rabin
Christopher turned the letter around and pushed it across the table.
“Colonel Kratz, let me assure you on behalf of the United States Government that I believe such information as you have in your possession may make the difference between success and failure.”
Part II
“Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British Brethren.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The Declaration of Independence was nailed to the wall behind him.
Saddam continued puffing on his cigar as he lounged back in his chair. All of them seated around the table waited for him to speak. He glanced to his right.
“My brother, we are proud of you. You have served our country and the Ba’ath Party with distinction, and when the moment comes for my people to be informed of your heroic deeds, your name will be written in the history of our nation as one of its great heroes.”
Al Obaydi sat at the other end of the table, listening to the words of his leader. His fists, hidden under the table, were clenched to stop himself shaking. Several times on the journey back to Baghdad he had been aware that he was being followed. They had searched his luggage at almost every stop, but they had found nothing, because there was nothing to find. Saddam’s half brother had seen to that. Once the Declaration had reached the safety of their mission in Geneva he hadn’t even been allowed to pass it over to the Ambassador in person. Its guaranteed route in the diplomatic pouch made it impossible to intercept even with the combined efforts of the Americans and the Israelis.
Saddam’s half brother now sat on the President’s right-hand side, basking in his leader’s eulogy.
Saddam swung himself slowly back around and stared down at the other end of the table.
“And I also acknowledge,” he continued, “the role played by Hamid Al Obaydi, whom I have appointed to be our Ambassador in Paris. His name must not, however, be associated with this enterprise, lest it harm his chances of representing us on foreign soil.”