13

MONDAY, JANUARY 12 – 11:53 p.m. – RONDA, SPAIN

The Bennetts finished a late dinner and strolled back to their hotel.

It was almost midnight when they picked up their keys from the front desk and found a message from Ken Costello waiting for them, marked “Urgent.”

At first, Bennett was shocked simply by the presence of any message. Nobody was supposed to know where they were. Not the president and First Lady. Not even his mother. How could Ken have known? But then came the more important question: what could be so urgent as to interrupt them on their honeymoon?

“Are you going to call him back?” Erin asked as they got on the elevator.

“We had a pact, remember?”

“I know, but what if it’s personal?” said Erin. “The only way Ken could have tracked us down is through the travel agency, and if he went to all that trouble, it must be important. What if something’s wrong with your mom?”

Bennett winced. His mother had a long history of heart trouble. At the wedding, friends had remarked that they hadn’t seen her so relaxed and so peaceful in years, but Erin was right. Anything was possible. So as soon as they got back to their room, he placed the call while Erin stepped into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“White House operator. May I help you?”

“Yeah, hi, this is Jon Bennett. I got a message that Ken—”

“Yes, Mr. Bennett. The president is expecting your call. Please hold and I will put you right through.”

The president? It had to be a mistake.

“No, I—”

But the call had already gone through.

“Situation Room, Marsha Kirkpatrick.”

It had been months since he had heard the national security advisor’s voice.

“Marsha, it’s Jon Bennett. I’m just trying to return Ken Costello’s call, but—”

“I know. I am sitting here with the president. Ken’s here too. So are Corsetti and Chuck Murray. Hold on. The president would like to speak with you first.”

Before Bennett could react, MacPherson was on the line. His voice was unusually subdued. Something was wrong.

“Jon, I’m so sorry to interrupt your honeymoon, but I’m afraid it couldn’t be helped.”

“I’m always happy to take a call from you, Mr. President.”

“Jon, it’s Mordechai. He’s been attacked.”

Bennett couldn’t breathe.

“He’s alive,” MacPherson continued, “but probably not for long. The doctors believe it’s only a matter of time. He’s unconscious and barely hanging on. He’s been shot at least a dozen times, and he’s got third-degree burns over most of his body.”

The president further explained that Mordechai was currently in emergency surgery and had been for the last few hours, but he was not expected to make it beyond the next few hours or days.

Bennett couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t know how to respond.

“Jon,” MacPherson continued, “I don’t have to tell you how involved Dr. Mordechai was as a back channel between the Israelis and the Palestinians. And as you know, under the radar he’s also been instrumental in building ties between the Israelis and the Iraqis. I’ve just gotten off the phone with Prime Minister Doron, and given all the uncertainty in the region right now, we both agree we need to be very careful not to allow the peace process, fragile as it is, to become derailed once again. That said, I’ve asked Ken to head to Israel immediately. He lifts off from Andrews Air Force Base within the hour. He’ll be meeting with Prime Minister Doron and the new Palestinian leadership to take everyone’s temperature and see if we can get final status talks moving forward again. If you’d like, I can have Ken pick you and Erin up on the way and take you over there. I don’t know if you can make it in time, but . . .  well, it’s up to you.”

Jon was numb, but he thanked the president and accepted his gracious offer, then discussed the details with Ken. Just as he hung up, Erin stepped out of the bathroom.

“Is it your mom?” Erin asked, seeing the pain in his eyes. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Jon said flatly. “It wasn’t that.”

“Then what?”

He took her in his arms and held her tight.

The next morning, they stood on the tarmac in Málaga.

Costello stepped off the plane and embraced them both, then welcomed them back on board the same State Department Gulfstream V that had practically been their home during their years of shuttle diplomacy.

“What’s the latest, Ken?” Bennett asked as they lifted off.

Costello hesitated.

“Is he still alive?” asked Erin.

“Barely,” Costello admitted. “One of the bullets nearly severed his spinal cord. His doctors say his pelvis, right arm, and shoulder were shattered when his car went off the road, and he lost most of his blood before medical teams were able to get to him. To be honest, it’s a miracle he made it through the night.”

The G5 touched down in Israel just after 4 p.m. local time. Costello and the Bennetts were met at the airport by Mossad chief Avi Zadok, who briefed them on the way to Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem.

“We don’t have many leads at the moment,” Zadok said, “but we have two working theories. The first is that the assassination attempt was an act of Muslim retribution for Dr. Mordechai’s ‘Ezekiel Option’ memo. The second is that the attack could have been carried out by ultra-Orthodox Jews because of Dr. Mordechai’s public claims about Jesus.”

Privately, Bennett wished there were evidence of Islamic extremism. But the truth was, most of the region’s Muslim community was mourning its dead and was shell-shocked by the extraordinary losses of its holiest sites. To him, it strained credibility to believe active cells of jihadists were capable of a carefully orchestrated attack so quickly after such devastation. More likely was the Jewish angle. Israeli outrage at Mordechai’s “betrayal” was widespread among the Orthodox, heated, and very public.

Zadok showed them copies of written death threats—letters and e-mails—that Mordechai had received in recent weeks. Even letters to the editor of major Israeli newspapers and callers on local radio shows had been warning Mordechai to watch his back.

But then another wave of questions flooded Bennett’s thoughts. How exactly was it possible to gun down a former Mossad chief inside Israel? True, Mordechai had given up his full taxpayer-financed security detail. But that was because the Mossad and Shin Bet had told him all the threats were just talk, that he really had nothing to fear. They had assured him that they would keep an eye on him. Zadok had personally chosen Mordechai’s driver, a former special-forces commando, and insisted he carry a sidearm and be with Mordechai at all times.

How, then, could this have happened? Was it possible someone in Doron’s inner circle wanted Mordechai dead?