Body of Lies (23 page)

"My dear Roger, I wanted to welcome you back to Jordan myself. I am so glad you have decided to return to your true home."

"Thank you, Hani Pasha. I'm afraid your welcoming committee at the airport wasn't informed that I was such an esteemed guest. They've held me up for half an hour. I want to go home and get some sleep."

"Take it as a sign of flattery. We only harass important people. The rest--well, who cares? And it is my fault, really. I wanted to welcome you back myself. I would have come to the airport to greet you personally, but it is so late, and I have such an attractive guest with me at the moment. But we need to talk, don't we? Yes, I think so. Let us have breakfast the day after tomorrow. You Americans always like breakfast meetings, don't you? We'll meet at eight-thirty at the Officers' Club in Jebel Amman. Near the British Council. Do you know it? I'm quite sure we won't be disturbed there at that hour. Arabs detest breakfast meetings. Now let me speak to the captain."

Ferris handed back the phone, while the officer in charge of the little group received instructions from the pasha about what to do next. Having inconvenienced Ferris, they now put on a show of hospitality that was as annoying in its way as the delay had been. He was whisked to the VIP waiting room, where more tea and pastries arrived while they collected Ferris's luggage from the carousel downstairs. A motorcade was assembled to accompany Ferris's embassy SUV, police patrol cars front and back and a half dozen motorcycle outriders. The caravan made its way into downtown Amman, lights flashing and sirens blaring. It was hardly the way for an acting CIA chief of station to return home, but that was evidently the point Hani wanted to make: Whether Ferris was detained at the airport or coddled in a motorcade, he was under Hani's control here.

By the time they left the airport, it was one-thirty
A.M
.--too late for a telephone call, normally, but Ferris called Alice anyway. He'd reached her the day before from Abu Dhabi to say that he would be back soon, but he'd wanted his actual arrival to be a surprise. He awoke her from a deep sleep, so that her first words were unguarded and spontaneous.

"Hello, darling," she said. "Where are you?"

"Darling," Ferris repeated. "I'm back in Amman. They finally let me come home."

"That's nice. Whoever 'they' are. What time is it? Where are you?" She still wasn't quite awake.

"It's almost two
A.M
. I'm on the airport road. Can I come see you?"

"Now? No, of course not."

"I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Roger, but it's the middle of the night and you've been away for almost three weeks. I need to brush my teeth. Let's say tomorrow night for dinner, at my place."

"I love you," said Ferris. He hadn't planned to say that. It just came out.

"Hmmm," she answered. "We'll see about that."

P
EOPLE AT
the embassy were happy to see Ferris was back, if a little surprised. When he had left so suddenly, the rumor was that he had been expelled, like Francis Alderson. The ambassador, who resented the CIA station's ties with the palace, actually looked a bit disappointed when Ferris stopped by to pay his respects. So did the operations chief, who had been running the station in Ferris's absence and undoubtedly had hoped to continue. Ferris hit upon a solution that would make them both happy. He told the ops chief that he could handle all the routine paperwork while Ferris was traveling the next few months. He could sign off on rents for safe houses and meet CODELs from the intelligence committees and update the agents' Personal Record Questionnaires. He could manage everything except contact with Hani Salaam, which Ferris would keep to himself. The ops chief seemed delighted. He would be a paperwork prince, just like a real station chief.

The embassy staff was on edge. New security rules had been adopted during his absence. Embassy personnel weren't allowed to travel in many parts of town without an escort. Military personnel weren't allowed to travel in uniform. There was an elaborate new drill for travel between residences and the embassy--varying routes, carpooling in armored vehicles. The embassy security officer had posted new instructions on what to do if the embassy was attacked with biological weapons or a dirty bomb. New shelters were designated in the chancery, as well. You could see the effect of all this security mania from the look in people's eyes: They blinked, glanced away, started at any strange sound, even as they kept up the regimen of embassy life. It was the false bravura of people who know they are targets.

Ferris left the office at four-thirty despite the entreaties of his secretary, who had a stack of correspondence she wanted to go over with him. Ferris told her it could wait; he wanted to take a nap before his date with Alice. He tried to sleep but was too keyed up, so he watched a televised soccer match from Qatar until it was time to get ready. On the way to Alice's apartment, he stopped to buy flowers. He chose an elaborate arrangement--orchids and lilies--big, showy flowers that were too loud for someone like Alice, but made a statement. The florist took endless care wrapping them, slowly adding sprig after sprig of ferns, spraying them with lacquer and tying them in such an elaborate arrangement of ribbon and string that Ferris wasn't sure she would be able to get them undone. He looked at his watch and muttered that he was late, but the florist gave him a knowing smile and continued with his fantasy bouquet.

Alice's apartment was in an old stone building that dated back to Ottoman times. In its day, it must have belonged to a wealthy merchant, for the stone and tile work were of very high quality. Ferris climbed the stairs to the second floor and knocked on a door gaily painted in pastel colors. When Alice emerged, Ferris stood motionless for a moment, admiring her. Her face was luminous, the skin soft and ripe. Her blond hair was tied behind her, exposing the fine lines of her neck, and there was a look of playful expectation in her deep hazel eyes. She wore a black dress with a scoop neck that showed off her figure.

"Hi, there," she said, giving him a dazzling smile and taking his hand.

"You look...incredible," said Ferris. He stood in the doorway, dumbly holding his enormous bouquet of flowers.

"Aren't these
sweet
," she said, taking the flowers. Her tone was slightly mocking. She pulled him by the arm into the apartment. "Now, you sit down in the living room while I put these in some water." She tore at the elaborate packing that encased the bouquet and tossed it in the trash while she searched for a vase big enough to hold the small arboretum Ferris had brought.

The apartment was like an oriental jewel box. It contained treasures fashioned long ago by the original owner, which a visitor could not have imagined from the outside. The walls and ceilings were inlaid with fine woods, mother-of-pearl and gold leaf. There were handsome murals depicting scenes of the Arab world--the teeming Levantine harbor of Alexandria, a snowcapped Mt. Lebanon, the gold dome of the Al Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem, the rich farmlands of the Damascus plain. The far wall was an array of leaded glass windows opening onto a garden below that had a small bubbling fountain surrounded by plants and shrubs. A few were in bloom, even in November. There was the low sound of Arabic music; as Ferris listened, he realized it was the voice of the Lebanese singer Fairuz, who sang of the distantly remembered pleasures of Arab village life in a way that was said to bring tears to the eyes of men and women who listened to her. Alice emerged from the kitchen bearing the float of blossoms in an oversized vase.

"Pretty amazing apartment," said Ferris. "You didn't tell me it was so nice."

"You didn't ask. Anyway, it was obvious when you dropped me off that you felt sorry for me, living down here in the old city. You had that look that said anything this old, without air-conditioning, can't be very nice. So I thought, screw him. He doesn't appreciate a good thing when he sees it." She winked. "Actually, I wanted to save it for you, as a surprise."

She brought a bottle of wine from her little fridge and set out a spread of appetizers--fat pistachio nuts bursting from their shells, little quail eggs with rock salt and pepper, fine olives and crunchy peppers and carrots. Ferris was still a little dizzy over seeing her. He sat down next to her on the couch and took her hand. It felt tiny. He didn't really want to talk, he wanted to hold her; but he had to say something.

"I missed you, Alice," said Ferris. "I'm sorry I was gone so long. Every day I was away, I wanted to be here with you."

She waited a moment before answering. "I got frightened, Roger. After you had been gone two weeks, I began to think you weren't coming back. I talked to my friend at the embassy, and she said nobody knew when you would return. When I heard that, I just burst into tears. I was so scared that you wouldn't come back to me. I thought you would be swallowed up in all this mess."

Ferris wrapped her in his arms, and her body eased into his. It took him a moment to realize she was crying.

"Don't be sad," he said. "I'm here now."

"I'm not sad. I'm happy. I just don't want anything to happen to us. The world is going crazy. I want to hide away in this beautiful place."

Dinner would wait. She took him by the hand and led him into her bedroom. It was a room for an Arab princess. She had decorated it with sprays of flowers and scented candles so that it was like a magical garden. They undressed each other slowly, each piece of clothing coming off in its own time: a dress slowly falling to the floor; the buttons of a shirt plucked one by one; a belt undone, and then a slow tug at a zipper; the clasp of a brassiere unhooked and the straps falling, and her chest soft against his. When they were naked, they were two perfect creatures. The lacerations on Ferris's leg had vanished, in her mind and his. He took her slowly at first, wanting to stretch out each moment, but their bodies were too eager to wait very long. It wasn't until he was finished that Ferris realized she was crying again.

"I love you," she said through her tears. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

Ferris cradled her body against his. He was worried. He loved her, and she loved him, and what were they going to do now?

S
HE LAY AGAINST
his chest on the fresh sheets. A fan turned lazily above them, making the candles flicker and blowing a cool breeze over their bodies. She got up eventually and busied herself, first in the bathroom and then tidying their clothes from the floor. As she picked up Ferris's jacket a small plastic box fell out of the pocket. Ferris watched it hit the floor and quickly leaned out of bed to pick it up. It was the dental bridge that Hoffman had given him back at Langley. Alice's cat, Elvis, bounded across the room and bumped the plastic case with his nose.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Ferris, taking the jacket from her and putting the plastic case back in the pocket. She was looking at him strangely, and he knew he should give her a better answer. He popped open the lid, so she could see the semicircular ring of plastic. "It's just a bite guard. So I don't grind my teeth."

She smiled, back to normal again. "Somehow, you don't strike me as the tooth-grinding type."

"You never know. We all worry about something." He gave her a smile and hung up the jacket. How could he lie so easily to someone he loved?

F
ERRIS ROSE
at six. They made love again, noisily, and then Ferris went home to his apartment to shower and change before his meeting with Hani. He felt light-headed from so much sex and so little sleep, and he had a nervous feeling in his stomach. In the shower, the image that fell into his head was the scene from twenty years ago when he had broken the other boy's arm without meaning to. Or had he meant to? He winced at the recollection. Where was the line? When did the bone stop bending and begin to break?

H
ANI WAS
waiting for him at the Officers' Club. It was deserted, as he had predicted. The Jordanian looked very pleased with himself this morning. He was wearing a double-breasted blazer with shiny brass buttons; his shirt was one of those two-tone models they sell on Jermyn Street, with white collar and cuffs and gaudy regimental stripes. He greeted Ferris with an appraising eye.

"Long night?" the Jordanian asked. "You look a bit...tired."

"Jet lag," said Ferris. He wondered if Hani had him under surveillance. Of course Hani had him under surveillance.

They sat down to a proper English breakfast, served by a waiter in white gloves. The club was all musty leather and dark wood paneling. It must have been built back in the days when Glubb Pasha imposed British discipline on the Hashemite army. Hani ate like a trencherman, talking between bites of his kippers and scrambled eggs.

"We forgive you, Roger," the Jordanian said. "That's what I wanted to say. We are sorry that we lost our temper. But we were provoked." He was speaking about himself in the royal plural. Even the king didn't do that.

"That's okay," said Ferris. "If I had been you, I would have been pretty angry, too. And I'm glad you decided to let me come back. I like it here."

"We know you do. And we are watching out for you. You are our little brother."

Was that a warning? "Thanks," Ferris said. "I appreciate the thought. But I can watch out for myself."

"As you like, my dear. And I trust you. Even after what happened to my poor man in Berlin, Mustafa Karami. Because I know it was not your fault. But I will be honest. One reason I wanted you back in Amman is because I worry about Mr. Ed Hoffman. He is the one I do not trust."

"Well, don't ask me. Hoffman doesn't tell anybody what he's really up to, including me."

"Oh, I doubt that. I doubt that. You are his boy. What is the expression? His 'fair-haired boy.' I suspect you know quite a lot about Mr. Ed Hoffman and his plans. And I don't want to get burned again, you see? That is what worries me. I can hear Ed's footsteps. I can hear him breathing. But I do not see him. That bothers me, I am afraid."

"Can't help you there. Sorry. Deaf and dumb. You know the rules."