Free Warriors by Barrett Tillman by Barrett Tillman

we cannot count upon an uninterrupted flow of materiel or advisers. For this reason I want an independent air force, directly under my control with an absolute minimum of dependence upon external factors.
           "You will excuse me if I speak bluntly. The Jewish lobby in America is very strong. Every time the United States wishes to sell us equipment or provide advisers, your politicians are deluged with letters and protests. This despite the very well-known fact that my country has not gone to war against Israel since 1948. But if our military supplies are embargoed, I will have my Arab brothers to worry about-perhaps even more than the Israelis."
           At length Bennett said, "I see your point, though I wonder if the 'Jewish lobby' is as important to American policymakers as purely strategic considerations."
           Gripping Bennett's arm even harder, the king spoke in a soft, almost toneless voice. "I ask you, John Bennett. Can you build me a fighter force the equal of the Israelis'?"
           There was a pause of nearly half a minute as Bennett gazed at the elegant candelabra on the table. Then, softly but clearly, he had said, "Given time, yes."
           Now, reclining in bed, Bennett's thoughts turned from the evening's conversation to metaphysics. He was not much on classic literature but he was well read enough to draw a comparison. The potentially Faustian nature of his relationship with the Saudi king struck him with chilling intensity. So here you are, Bennett. Satan leans on your shoulder and whispers in your ear, tempting you with the best offer a fighter pilot ever had, or hoped to have. In exchange for . .. what?
           Bennett inhaled and considered the prospects. To build a fighter force from the ground up, with a completely free hand. Select the people, draft the syllabus, choose the airplanes. And best of all, no bullshit, no bean-counters to answer to. Mold a completely professional organization along sound military principles unencumbered by ass-covering politicians and hand-wringing diplomats. It's hog heaven, Bennett, and you'd be belly-deep in slop, he thought.
           The irony of the situation occurred to him. Perhaps it would take one of the world's underdeveloped nations to bring the jet fighter force to its highest development. A Muslim kingdom one-third the size of the United States, nine-tenths covered by barren plateau. The place didn't even have any rivers.
           Over eleven million inhabitants populated this wide expanse, where still barely 30 percent of the total lived in cities. Though education was free, it was still widely ignored and the literacy rate only matched the ratio of the urban population. Life expectancy was under fifty years, and though Saudi Arabia was the world's second-largest oil producer, only 12 percent of the people worked in industry. Not much had changed since oil was found in the 1930s.
           Bennett had researched the nation and the royal family before leaving San Diego. King Khalid ibn 'Abd al-'Aziz al-Sa'ud had succeeded to the throne in 1975 following old King Faisal's assassination by a nephew. The present monarch had inherited the throne in a tempestuous family political squabble. Bennett regarded Rahman as a man on a tightrope with no safety net. He walked a narrow line between the conservatives in his own country and the ambitious radicals outside.
           The monarch was right about his military situation. The Saudis still could not maintain a large, sophisticated air force by themselves. There were too many foreign strings attached, there was too much political favoritism ingrained in the existing forces. What the king wanted was a band of professional mercenaries who owed him complete allegiance, free of external pressures.
           It kept coming back to the Israelis. Match them, and the Saudis could master any other opponent in the region. Hell, man for man they'd master any other air