The Other Side of Deception by Victor Ostrovsky

Author:Victor Ostrovsky [Ostrovsky, Victor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TheBookPatch.com
Published: 2010-11-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

TUESDAY, MAY 20

It was getting dark at the end of a long flight. I could see land as the plane banked slightly to the right. We were now heading east. I felt a twitch in my stomach when the plane crossed the shoreline. The pilot made an announcement telling us where we were at that point. I already knew exactly where we were: that gray land below, dotted with the sun's last rays, was Syria.

The concept was hard for me to comprehend; here I was, an Israeli, seated in the first-class cabin of the Royal Jordanian Airline, over Syria, accompanied by the Jordanian military attache to the U.S. At that point in time there were many who would have haggled over who would hang me if they found out what I was really up to.

Several minutes later the wide-bodied plane made a second turn and was now heading south, beginning the descent into Amman, Jordan. We had in effect flown around Israel. From my window I could see Israel passing by as the sun set on the other side of the Moab mountains. I was so close to Bella I could almost touch her, yet I was further from her and my children than I had ever been. It was then that the proverbial mountains of darkness took on a whole new meaning.

By the time the plane had touched down in Queen Alia International Airport south of Amman, it was dark. Once the plane came to a complete stop the stewardess who had served us diligently all the way from Kennedy airport in New York stood behind us blocking one aisle while the purser blocked the other, curtaining off the rest of the passengers from us.

"They will make sure that no one gets off the plane before we clear the terminal," Zuhir said to me, pointing in the direction of the open door. We headed out of the plane alone. Zuhir shook the hands of the pilot, who by then was standing at the door smiling as though he were about to meet the King himself. At the other end of the gangway we were met by several officers in full parade uniform who stiffened like a steel spring and saluted as soon as they caught sight of my escort. He gestured back and was quick to shake their hands. It was clear that the officers were responding to more than just the man's rank: there was admiration present. We were ushered swiftly through the small terminal. My passport was in Zuhir's hands and was not stamped - quite a standard procedure in this business.

At that point we were shown into a large V.I.P. room where we were greeted - or rather Zuhir was greeted - by a group of uniformed officers, several of whom were generals and most of the others colonels. While Zuhir was mingling among his peers I stayed somewhat in the background. A tall, slim, dark-haired gentleman with a neat black mustache and a large smile walked up to me.

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