Word: fedayeen
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...Fatah headquarters near the ruins of the Nabatiya refugee camp in Lebanon, flattened by an Israeli air strike in 1974, an unsmiling fedayeen officer in camouflage fatigues declares grimly: "In practical terms we are fighting the Americans. We have a slogan: 'The land is for the people who liberate...
...supporters and carried past garlands of flowers and olive branches into the town hall to greet his family. Smiling broadly, the mayor thanked his constituents for the hero's welcome. "I owe you my freedom, and from now on I am yours," he told them. "Victory to the fedayeen!" the crowd responded, raising their hands in the V sign of victory...
Follett's fissionable plot involves the intelligence agencies of three nations-Israel's Mossad, the Soviet KGB and Egypt's General Intelligence-as well as the fedayeen and the Mafia. It begins 20 years before the uranium theft, at, of all places, Oxford University. By not too improbable coincidence, three of the protagonists are students there: David Rostov, a Soviet who will later become an ambitious intelligence officer in Moscow; Yasif Hassan, a Palestinian who subsequently serves as a triple agent for the Egyptians, the Soviets and the fedayeen; and Nathaniel Dickstein, a cockney Jew who migrates...
...western desert. The only solution, as the Israelis see it, is to obtain enough uranium to make their own bombs. The assignment is handed to Dickstein, whose cover is subsequently blown by Hassan. Enter Ros tov and his Muscovites, bent on thwarting Israel's campaign. Enter also the fedayeen, who aim to capture the stolen uranium and trumpet Israel's perfidy to the world. Dickstein is also dogged by his own mistrustful Mossad; his most useful ally turns out to be Wartime Buddy Cor tone, now a Mafia don. And, for the first time in a bitter life...
Follett is a master of crafty ploy and credible detail, ranging effortlessly from an Israeli kibbutz to the intricacies of Euratom and the shipping world. In the novel's set piece, Dickstein's men, the fedayeen and the Soviets battle ferociously for the wheezing old freighter with its uranium cargo. At times the reader can only wonder, with Pierre Borg, head of the Mossad, ''You wouldn't think we were the chosen people, with our luck.'' But good luck holds, and so does Follett's sizzling narrative...