other-side-of-deception-victor-ostrovsky

THE OTHER SIDE OF DECEI'TION / 155problems as fast as I can." I could see that he didn't really understandwhat I meant. "I need to make some money to live on, and I can'twork in the U.S., so I'll have to go to Canada and find somethingthere.""Will you tell me where I can find you there, in case the answerwe are waiting for is delayed?""If you don't have one before I go, then just forget it." I could feelmy insides starting to heat up. I was getting more and more restless,and I realized that I had to start watching my back more than ever.When I'd walked into the embassy, I was so hyped up on what Ihad been sent to do that I hadn't given that much thought to theimplications. I'd expected them to grab me with two hands and get meworking right on the spot. It hadn't happened that way, and thingswere starting to get sticky.The process was now irreversible; the information was on its wayto Amman and the Jordanian intelligence offices there. Since this wasno doubt high-priority information, it would be handled by the toprankingofficers in that service, and if the Mossad was worth itsweight in salt, it would hear about it, either from an officer who wasrecruited or from one of the assistants working for him. Even if neitherof those conduits to the Mossad existed, the opportunity of havingan Israeli spy working for Jordanian intelligence would most likelybe brought before the king. And among the king's retinue, for sure, theMossad would have an ear of some sort. Knowing what I knew andcould give away, it would become a prime directive to stop me. A teamcould be preparing to grab me or eliminate me as we spoke."Call me when you hear something. I hope I'll still be there.""Will you call before you leave?""Okay." I hung up, feeling as though someone had let all the airout of my balloon.The call came at eight-thirty in the morning. It was Zuhir. "Areyou ready to go?""When?""How about tomorrow afternoon?""That's fine with me." I had made it a condition that he would gowith me. I sensed that he was an honorable man, and the promise ofsafe passage was something that I needed. In the short time I'd knownhim, I realized that he was someone who would readily die rather thango back on his word or lose his honor."I'll pick you up at your hotel at twelve.""For how long are we going?""A week. Is that okay?""Sure, see you tomorrow." I hung up the phone and sat there forseveral minutes, trying to digest what had just happened. I was aboutto go to a country I'd always regarded as an enemy and be a guest ofthe intelligence agency on the other side. I was going to the other side:That was what I was about to do. If there had been a way to explaineverything that I had done up to this point, what I was about to dowas unexplainable. At the moment, I figured the Mossad didn't knowabout me. On the other hand, if they did know about me, theycouldn't say much since it would expose a source. But then what Icould give away was much more than any source could provide, sothey couldn't afford to let me go over. They might have tolerated myactivity to this point, but there was no way they would allow me toland in Amman.I was now stepping into an abyss from which the climb backmight not be at all possible. I had twenty-four hours in which to preparefor the trip, and there was really nothing I could do to covermyself.I took a shower and quickly got dressed. I had to get to a phoneand call Ephraim. It was a Saturday, and I hoped he would be there.The phone rang several times, but there was no answer. I couldn'tmake a call from the hotel, nor could I tell Bella what was going on. Idecided to try again later. I walked back to the hotel and waited in theroom. Time stood still. What if I can't get him? What if they're waitingfor me, and this is all a trap just to get me there so someone canhand me over? I wasn't thinking straight. I was too excited and scared.It was like walking on the rim of a volcano with your eyes closed. Icould feel the danger, but I couldn't see it.By six in the afternoon, I got E~hraim. I was exhausted from thetension."What's up?" He sounded cheerful; something had apparentlygone right for him." I , m on my way tomorrow."He didn't say a word for several seconds, then in a slow and lowvoice, "Do you mean what I think you do?""You bet. I was called this morning. I'm leaving some time aroundnoon tomorrow.""I'll be damned. We don't know anything about this, not even ahint. Do you know that, even if you don't go, it's already the biggestfarce in this organization's history?"I knew exactly what he was talking about-the myth that theMossad knows exactly what is going on in Arab countries (in this case