The Circuit Read Free Page A

career. It was at the forefront of my mind during the Falklands War, when I was sent to Port Stanley to carry out a similar task with the Regiment. 3
    Obviously, I held the Israelis in very high esteem. My feelings about the Palestinians were equally as strong, albeit not in a positive way. The western media had always referred to Arafat as a ‘terrorist’ and his multi-party confederation, the Palestine Liberation Organization, as a ‘terrorist’ organization. The label meant only one thing to me. The old adage of ‘one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter’ was a load of liberal crap as far as I was concerned. Having fought the IRA, I’d seen first hand just how ruthless they could be. IRA, PLO, it didn’t matter; they were all gutless bastards who killed and maimed innocent civilians to achieve their aims.
    Operation Defensive Shield was entering its second week when AKE, a commercial security company owned by a former Regiment mate of mine, sent me to Ramallah to look after CNN. AKE already had a cracking lad in situ, Will Scully. An era behind me in the Regiment, Will and I worked together many times on The Circuit in the 1990s. As advisers go, Will is top drawer. If I had to put a team together, he’d be one of the first people I’d call.
    I talked to Will prior to leaving to get a better idea of the assignment. I was heartened to hear that he was revelling in it. The only reason he was coming home was because of a family commitment. The job wasn’t all giggles though. Will warned me that the toughest part initially would be getting into Ramallah; the Israelis had locked it down and, though journalists were allowed to leave, no one was allowed to enter.
    As it turned out, the hurdles went up as soon as I landed in Israel. I was singled out immediately by security at Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv. Mind you, it’s not as if I blended in. A forty-seven-year-old man travelling alone must have stood out among the families and groups of religious tourists. I felt like all eyes were on me as I walked to passport control. I knew I was about to be picked on.
    A big fat man in his late twenties and a skinny young woman plucked me out of the passport line and ushered me to one side. Without so much as a ‘Welcome to Israel’ they started grilling me: what was I doing here? I handed them a covering letter CNN had given me prior to departure and told them I was a field producer temporarily assigned to the Jerusalem bureau. They asked to see my passport. Luckily, I’d recently renewed it and there were no incriminating stamps from Arab countries. The pair then asked me a string of questions, repeating many of them to see if my answers varied. Two questions in particular could have landed me on the first flight back to the UK. They asked me several times if I spoke Arabic. I do speak respectable colloquial Arabic having studied it in the 1970s for operations in Oman, but I kept my language ability to myself. They also wanted to know if I planned to travel to the West Bank or Gaza during my stay.
    ‘Not me,’ I said. ‘It’s far too dangerous.’
    I eventually cleared security and went to the arrivals terminal where CNN had arranged for a driver to meet me. There were hundreds of people milling around with name boards, but none for me. I called the number I had been given for the driver but there was no answer. I then rang the CNN bureau in Jerusalem to get a physical description of him. The woman on the other end of the phone told me ‘Ahmed’, my driver, was approximately five foot eight with a large belly, thinning hair and a moustache. Over half the men in the terminal fitted that description.
    Fortunately, the woman in the bureau was able to tell me Ahmed’s vehicle make and plate number. I headed out to the car park with my bags, a black canvas duffel and a day sack slung over each shoulder. Normally, I never leave the reception area of an airport until I’m met by my point of