other-side-of-deception-victor-ostrovsky

in charge of security. The guard insisted on knowing the purpose ofmy visit."I need to talk to someone from security," I repeated, pulling outmy Israeli passport and showing it to the guard.He reached out to take it, but I put it back in my pocket. "Only tothe man in charge of security."He hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone and spoke inrapid Arabic for several seconds. Then he turned to me. "Just oneminute, please. The person you wanted is on his way. Would youplease walk through the gate?" He pointed to a metal detector gate,like those used in airports, situated in the center of the hall, just by thefour stairs leading up to a second level. After going through that, I waschecked by a second uniformed guard with a hand-held detector. Atall, thin man in a dark blue suit stepped into the hall. He stopped severalfeet from me. "What can we do for you?"I took out my Israeli passport again and handed it to him. "It'smore like what can I do for vou."He opened the passport and leafed through it, looking at thephoto and again at me. A smile appeared on his face, hesitant at firstbut gradually broadening into a grin. "Would you care to follow me,please?""I'd love to."He walked up the few steps and led me to what seemed to be thequiet office section of the embassy. We entered a small room with adesk and several chairs around it. The curtains on the large windowwere shut, but the room was well lit. On the wall behind the desk wasa large photo portrait of King Hussein in his military uniform, smilingat the camera.The place was as foreign to me as a place could get. I had feltmore at home in the Soviet embassy. The tall, elegant man sat underthe king's portrait and pointed to the seat opposite him. He was fartoo elegant for this office. "Would you care for something to drink, orperhaps a snack?"I began to wonder if there was some universal law of interrogationthat stipulated subjects always be offered food and drink first. "A coffeewould be great," I replied.He spoke to the guard who'd escorted us to the room and senthim on his way. He then put my passport on the desk in front of me."What brings you to us"-he glanced at the passport again-"Mr.0s. .. rovvasky?""Ostrovsky," I corrected him. "You could say that greed broughtme here, also a good dose of wanting revenge."IIIITHE OTHER SIDE OF DECEPTION / 147"Revenge, now there's a nice word. Who do you want to takeyour revenge upon?""My former employer.""And who might that be?""The Mossad."I could see the color of his face change from a healthy tan to adusty gray in a matter of seconds. Had I chanced upon a mole theMossad had in Jordan? That was always a possibility, albeit a remoteone. Ephraim hadn't said there were none; all he had said was that itwasn't high on the priority list. I would not live very long if this manturned out to be working for the Mossad. He got up from behind thedesk and walked to the door. "I'll be back in a minute," he said, aslight tremble in his voice. I'd clearly made an impression on the man.If he was indeed a mole and worried that I was a Mossad defectorwho could uncover him, he'd be out of the building and on his way tothe Israeli embassy, which was probably visible from the window if Imoved the curtains.I got up and stared into the hall; there was no one there. Then theguard showed up with the coffee, putting it and a large bowl of Oreoson the table. The Oreos made me smile. They seemed out of place, justlike I was.Almost fifteen minutes later, the man returned. He had his colorback and was smiling again. "How do we know that you are who yousay you are?""I have some documentation that you can see, and I'm willing toanswer any questions that you may have."We both lit cigarettes, and the questioning started. I made it clearright off the bat that I didn't know the names of any Mossad agents inJordan, or in any other Arab country, for that matter. Nor was I aboutto give them names or descriptions of Mossad case officers I'd workedwith. He was mostly interested in finding out about the Mossad's interventionin the fundamentalist movement in Jordan and what influencethe Mossad had on the political agenda of Israel. He made it very clearto me that they had no trust in the Israeli politicians who were sayingthey wanted peace, because of the leaks. He explained to me that it wasmade clear time and time again to all the Israelis they had met, thatleaking details of the meetings or even the fact that the meetings tookplace would jeopardize them and render them invalid. And yet therewasn't a single time that the details were not leaked. The only conclusionthe Jordanians could come to was that the people they were meetingwith, at great danger to themselves, were not at all sincere and thatthe day was not far when such meetings would be a thing of the past.