Merkava, in Hebrew, meant "chariot."
But the sixty-five-ton Merkava Mark 4 was more than a chariot. It was the IDF's premier battle tank. With a 120-mm smooth-bore cannon, three 7.62-mm machine guns, an internal 60-mm mortar, and dual smoke-grenade launchers, it turned a four-man crew into a death machine. Add night vision and thermal imaging capability, a twelve-hundred-horsepower air-cooled die sel engine, automatic fire-suppression equipment, and the most advanced nuclear, biological, and chemical protection on the face of the planet, and the Merkava was the most sophisticated weapon in the Israeli ground game. It owned the night and could smash through enemy lines at sixty kilometers an hour.
And now, while MacPherson and his National Security Council debated the merits of an Israeli ground operation, a hundred and fifty Merkavas were taking up positions on the Green Line. They were preparing to sweep into the West Bank — into Nablus, Hebron, Ramallah, and Jenin, backed up with fifty more armored personnel carriers and an array of bulldozers and close air support from Apache attack helicopters, each with rapid-fire front-mounted cannons and sixteen Hellfire missiles.
At the same time, forty-five more Merkava and American-made Abrams M1 battle tanks and armored personnel carriers were also moving into position. They were preparing to blast their way into northern Gaza through the border town of Beit Lahiya, supported by two squadrons of attack helicopters and six F-18s carrying laser-guided missiles. At the southern point of the Gaza Strip, twenty more Israeli battle tanks and troop carriers were poised to cut off the main road to the dusty little Palestinian refugee town of Rafah, the last checkpoint before the Egyptian border and the vast Sinai Peninsula. A decision needed to be made. Prime Minister Doron wasn't at all convinced he should send forces into the territories, or that it would serve Israel's national interests. His Security Cabinet was actually sharply divided. But all of Doron's senior advisors agreed that Washington was about to ask them to move, and they needed to look cooperative. They needed to give the American president cover by offering to go in before they were officially asked. So that's what they were doing. By sundown, everything would be set.
Bennett took the plunge.
"Mr. President, with all due respect to my colleagues, it would be my strongest possible recommendation that the IDF stay the hell out of Gaza and the West Bank."
Everyone was stunned by Bennett's intensity, including McCoy.
Was this one of the fringe benefits of having $9.6 million socked away in the bank after years of high-stakes poker on Wall Street? she wondered. He could certainly speak his mind. He trusted his instincts, his experience. It wasn't arrogance. It was clarity and conviction, though to a competitor it might be hard to make that distinction.
"Go on," the president said, also taken aback.
"Erin and I will be fine. Sa'id and Galishnikov will be fine. We're all safe. We don't need to be taken out of here right now. What we need to do is think strategically, not tactically. Let's keep our eye on the ball. What do we know? Arafat, Mazen, and the secretary are dead. But the peace process isn't. What's just happened is horrible, but it's not fatal to the process. Just the opposite. This could be an opportunity — not one we'd want, or plan for— but let's not kid ourselves, this changes everything."
"How so?" asked the president.
Bennett's voice was gaining strength.
"Sir, a week ago, we were gathered in the Oval Office arguing over whether we should be dealing with Arafat at all. Jack, you and your guys at the CIA argued Arafat was a terrorist who'd never change his ways, didn't deserve his Nobel Peace Prize, and shouldn't be elevated by a meeting with a senior U.S. official. Marsha, you made a rather eloquent case that Abu Mazen — if he were really a potential partner for peace — could never amass enough author ity to lead unless we dealt only with him, and sidelined Arafat. Secretary Paine, of course, argued that sending a delegation to Gaza and not meeting with the father of the Palestinian revolution would be so insulting that Arafat would work against us to undermine the entire peace process. He insisted that we had to work with Arafat, or risk shaming him in front of his people and the world."
"And?" the president pressed.
"And now they're gone. A Palestinian extremist has just assassinated the leaders of the Palestinian revolution. This is no longer about whether the U.S. refuses to deal with one or the other. It's no longer about whether the Israelis want to deport Arafat and try to prop up Mazen. They're gone. And every Pal estinian — every Arab, everyone — knows it wasn't us, or the Israelis. And now they're watching this nightmare on TV, Palestinians attacking each other."
McCoy wasn't entirely sure where Bennett was headed. But her initial fears were quickly dissipating. She was fascinated to watch his mind work and wondered where all this was coming from.
"Mr. President, as you know, the confidential polls we've taken over the last few weeks show the vast majority of Palestinians are already tired of all the fighting," Bennett continued, his sentences coming quickly and with passion. "A strong majority thinks Palestinian violence has become counterproductive. They want the intifada to end, and they like what they've started to hear about our oil-for-peace deal. They're tired of the killing, the poverty, and deprivations. Sure, when we asked if they'd love to wipe out Israel and control all the land if they could, of course they said yes. But when we asked if they think that's ever really going to happen, most Palestinians said no. When we asked if they were ready to settle for a little less land in return for a share of huge oil and gas revenues, a significant majority said yes."
"So long as they still get part of Jerusalem," Mitchell added.
"That's right," Bennett agreed. "They still want part, if not all, of Jerusalem."
"So what's your point, Jon?" Kirkpatrick asked.
"My point is that all of our polling was done before all this violence today. I guarantee you if it were possible to poll again tomorrow, we'd find the majority of Palestinians horrified by what's just happened and sick of what they're doing to themselves and the way they look to the rest of the world. I think we'd find the vast majority finally, firmly resolved to end this gen eration of violence once and for all."
"And…" Kirkpatrick pressed.
"And we need to seize on that sentiment before it fades or changes. Mr. President, when you address the nation later this morning to mourn our losses, speak directly to the Palestinian people — offer condolences for the loss if their leadership and then ask them if this is what they want for their children and grandchildren. Tell them that 'he who lives by the suicide bomber dies by the suicide bomber'—more artfully than that, of course. But appeal to the better angels of their nature. Are they angry at Israel? Yes. And they have a right to be. Do they want to be free from occupation? Of course. Acknowledge all that. But use your line you're always quoting to us, that there's 'a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build up, a time for war and a time for peace.' "
"Ecclesiastes, Chapter Three," MacPherson said, betraying the hint of a smile.
"Right — tell the Palestinians that the time for killing and tearing down is over. Enough is enough. Tell them that tomorrow has to be a new day, a time for healing and building and making peace. Appeal to them to support new leadership that will lead them in a new direction, and lead them to the state they've always wanted but never had. But for God's sake, don't tell them that the Israelis are about to invade the West Bank and Gaza. Don't tell them that IDF tanks and helicopter gunships are going to start killing Palestinians all in the name of rescuing Jon Bennett and Erin McCoy."