When we got to Hussein’s country home, we were greeted by an impressively self-assured man in his late 20s who, like Hussein, had studied at Britain’s military academy in Sandhurst and then gone on to Oxford. It was Abdullah, the king’s son and later his successor, and he explained that he would be in charge of handling security for the talks. For a few hours in the afternoon, we held preliminary discussions, and I presented our assessment of the challenges and options facing all the different players in the crisis. Then we retired to a dinner at which — despite the royal china, crystal and silverware — the atmosphere was also surprisingly informal. The main meeting came the next morning. Both sides recognized the seriousness of the issues we had to discuss. Shamir began with the one we assumed would be the least difficult. Israel was on a heightened state of military alert, prompted by Iraqi reconnaissance flights over Jordan, and the likelihood the Iraqis were also hoping to get a look at our main nuclear research and development facility in the nearby Negev. It was important to ensure this didn’t lead to an unintended conflict between us and the Jordanians. While the king was careful to steer clear of any detailed comment on the Iraqi moves, he made it clear that he understood our concern about stumbling into an Israeli-Jordanian conflict and agreed that we had to avoid doing so. Yet the issue of our overflights, if we needed to attack the Scuds, was more sensitive. We said that if we did have to cross into Jordanian air space, we would find whatever way the king suggested to make it as unobtrusive as possible. We raised the possibility of using a narrow air corridor. His response was not hostile, but it was firm. This was an issue of Jordanian sovereignty, he told us. He could not, and would not, collaborate in any way with an Israeli attack on another Arab state. It was Ephraim who tried to find a way around the apparent stalemate. He suggested Shamir and the