other-side-of-deception-victor-ostrovsky

Osa mv second trip to A~IIMB~I, T npin met__ '.A*, 31JL I bI.- L a r 4 c Y I I _- - =,- - tL1w i V- m w . .LPmnq - IA- -.ffi/-+&iC>*dJ1d+eJ hwra rmrwe~narm~-, mlrjmkcr llruaPASEEAIOEACOUpCm"r- snorthwest to Ramallah; T'd taken it countless times when I'd served inthe Jordan Beka'a, many years ago. The road was now in much bettercondition, but rhe view was the same.ZYie drove for about twenty minutes, during which time Fadllalexplained to me that this For him was still Jordan, and he didn't reallyfeel he was in a foreign land. "We have many friends here who are asloval to the king today as they were hefore '67," he said. "Actually,thky are probably more so today, since thev had to put their lives onthe line for His Majesty and did so, and are still doing so." Fadllaltapped the driver an the shoulder and pointed to a fork in the road,then said something to the man in Arabic. He turned to me. "We'llstop there for a coffee and then head back. I've seen enough; youcould have sold me out ten times, and you didn't. T trust you. I: need KOsee one of my people here and give him some money, I make this tripalmost once a month, you know." The man was clearly proud of hisability and courage, entering enemy territory in such a nonchalantmanner. I felt a sense of relief; I only had to get back tn Amman in onepiece, and my mission was almost guaranteed success. In a short time,I had reached a higher stratum in the Jordanian intelligence than hadany other Israeli up to that point.The car came to a stop in front of a two-story building in the villageof Dir Tarir. Children were playing soccer in the dusty field at theend of a shirt row of houses, right next to what looked like an abandonedmosque. Several old men were seated across the "street" in theshade of a green pergola at the entrance of what was probably thelocal grocerv. They were unimpressed with the visitors and kept onsipping ao t&ir tiny cups of coffee.It seemed as if I was walking through a dream. Ther~ wits somethingsurrealistic about it all. Fadllal knocked on the metal door andwas almost instantlv greeted by our host, who wore a long white galabiaand a smile from ear to ear. After an extended series of greetings,we were ushered into a large living room. The furnishings wereextremelyloud and ornate. It could have been a showroom far Italianvelvet furniture. Within minutes, coffee and sweets were brought intothe room bv the hest's wife, who set the treats on the dark woodencoffee table. Smiling at us, she backed out of the room*Fadllal was not one to waste time. The moment the woman wasout of sight, he took a large 'bundle of American dollars from hispocket and handed it to the host. We then said something to the manin Arabic and signaled me to drink, saying, "We will he leaving in aminute, so drink pour coffee and have a sweet. We will go back to