“It’s out of the question,” says BenTov. “I’ve already spoken with the prime minister, and he and I agree. There’s no way we are calling off the tree-planting ceremony unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“A terrorist is planning on killing you and President Addams on cable TV for the world to see. I’d say this qualifies as necessary, don’t you, Mr. President?” says Aloni.
“If terrorists can scare us into hiding, they’ve already won, Colonel,” says BenTov. “We can’t lose face with the Americans and we can’t reschedule. President Addams will only be here for a day. This is the first time an American president makes Israel her first overseas stop. The world is watching us, and I refuse to let it see us cower under the bed. So does the prime minister.”
“Of course the prime minister agrees,” says Cricket from his corner. “He wants you gone just as much as them. Maybe more. If they don’t blow you and the American up, nobody will know about it, he doesn’t have to give any explanations, his agenda is hunky-dory. He wins. If they blow you up, he’ll deny knowing anything, he’ll have more ammunition against the Arabs, a firmer commitment from the Americans, the world’s sympathy, and he’ll have gotten rid of you. You’ve been a thorn in his side for months now. He wins all around. You can always count on that son of a bitch to come on top.”
“Cricket,” says BenTov.
“Yes, yes, I’ll shut my mouth.”
“Sir, I can’t let you run that risk,” says Aloni.
“Oh, Aloni, stop pretending. You want him there. You need him there,” says Cricket, still in his chair in the corner.
“Cricket,” says BenTov.
“Yes, yes, I’ll shut my mouth, but not before I say this. Colonel Aloni wants you there as bait. Plain, simple bait. If you and President Addams don’t show, these terrorists will abort. End of story, Aloni goes back to planning, hunting, scheming. Right, Aloni? Right? Of course right.”
“I don’t want that, Gabbai. I don’t want to endanger President BenTov or President Addams,” says Aloni.
“It’s out of your hands, anyway,” says BenTov. “I won’t back down. You have orders straight from the prime minister not to inform the Americans, so they won’t back down either. I’m sorry you and your men are in this position, Colonel. I am. But we have to play the game with the cards we have, not the cards we wish we had.”
BenTov gets up from his chair, signals the meeting is over.
Then he stops.
“About General Hoshech and his granddaughter,” he says.
“Yes, sir?” asks Aloni.
“Do you have all you need from her?”
“No. Not by far. She has inside information on Marina Petrovna’s operation that we’ll need further down the road. We’ve never had such a top-level source inside the Organizatsiya.”
“I’m sorry I’m making your job so hard today, Colonel. I truly am. Cricket?”
Cricket fusses. Cricket huffs, and puffs, and sighs. Cricket produces a piece of paper from his leather binder.
Cricket says, “This is a presidential pardon for Jasmine Hoshech. President BenTov signed it minutes before you gentlemen arrived. All pertinent authorities have received or are being served copies.”