9
Ahmad Esmaili returned to the secure orchard area that sheltered his unit from overhead observation. He found Fida conducting weapon familiarization drills for the new men, some of whom appeared not quite through puberty.
“Do they really get so much younger, or are we so much older?”
The Lebanese fighter was both experienced and cynical. “Both, of course. As long as the world keeps turning, it supplies us with a new crop of volunteers every year. I accepted two of these boys because they had no place to go. Their families are dead or displaced, so I believe we are engaging in charitable work as well as military recruiting.”
Esmaili emitted a noncommittal grunt. He looked at the youngsters who were learning to field strip an AK- 47. Eventually they would be able to disassemble and reassemble a Kalashnikov blindfolded. Whether they could shoot one straight and fast was another matter.
Fida scratched his beard and examined his superior’s face. Nothing registered, which was entirely normal. “Was your trip worthwhile?”
Leaving Tawfiq to supervise the newcomers, Esmaili took Fida several meters to one side. “I will tell you as much as I can. My trip was made for the purpose of spending about two minutes with a highly placed man in Tehran. We are to be honored with a significant assignment, but that will be determined later. Meanwhile, I will receive information and directions from Mohammad Azizi and we will conform to his directions until further notice.” He paused.
“Yes?”
“There is something more. The… source… said he is dispatching ‘a beloved colleague’ to oversee our part of the operation. I do not know if the new colleague will replace Azizi or work beside him, but I want you to know that we are going to be under greater scrutiny than ever before.”
Tawfiq scratched his beard again. It was showing faint traces of impending gray. “Well, that could mean anything, could it not? That is, a sign of trust and confidence or…”
“Or a lack of trust and confidence.”
“What do you think, brother?”
Esmaili dropped into a crouching position, idly rearranging pebbles between his feet. Tawfiq joined him, back to the shade tree class under way. “No. I have thought of little else since leaving Tehran. Based on what the… source… told me, it seems to be considered an honor. Besides, I do not believe that we would be given a crucial mission if we were mistrusted.”
Tawfiq grimaced. “There is a possible explanation, you know. We might be considered expendable and your… source… wants to ensure our compliance.”
The Iranian made no comment. None was necessary. At length his subordinate whispered, “You think so, too.”
Esmaili leaned back and sat on the ground, hands grasped between his knees. “I only know that the mission will involve a high degree of technical expertise, something beyond our capabilities. Therefore, we will almost certainly be assigned security for the operation.”
Tawfiq knew better than to speculate on when or where, let alone to ask his commander for more details. He rolled his slender shoulders,
A curt nod. “God’s will.”
Frank Leopole had experience of women in a dozen nations. As he said, “There are two kinds: mothers and others.” He was decidedly an Other kind of guy. Never married and presently minus a commitment, he was comfortable in doing without for an indefinite period. However, the
It was obvious that the commanding officer had first choice of the base secretarial staff.
Major General Moshek Brafman greeted his guest by rising from his desk. He was a stout third-generation Israeli who looked more Middle Eastern than Polish. However, he caught the American’s glance at the mobile decor and smiled approvingly. “Isn’t she a beauty?” Brafman emitted a sigh. “My wife was a head turner in her day, but Gabriella…” He shook his head. “Hoof!” Despite his accent, the sentiment was clear.
“She must be a distraction, General.”
“Yes, she is. She certainly is.” A male bonding smile and a gesture toward a sofa. “Would you like some refreshment?”
“Ah, no, sir. Thank you.” He took a seat, remaining erect and attentive.
Brafman plunked down beside Leopole and frankly studied the SSI operator. “Colonel, from what I am told, you are a direct individual and a man of action. Therefore, I shall do you the honor of being blunt. Though this is an international operation, and ordinarily it would involve certain… diplomatic niceties. While I hope that our relations will remain cordial, all of us need to keep certain realities in mind.”
The general paused a moment, ordering his thoughts. “As a professional, you must know that few plans remain unchanged. That especially applies to your upcoming work, for a variety of reasons that must be clear by now.”
Leopole nodded. “Yes, sir. Mr. Baram and a few others gave several briefings before we left.”
Brafman smiled slightly. “Well, he is not one to gild the lily, so to speak. Sometimes it’s a wonder that he advanced so well in government work.”
“You know him, then?”
The general squirmed slightly and gave a sideways glance. “We are acquainted, Colonel.” His tone changed from jovial to matter-of-fact. “As I was saying, although you will be training our Druze friends to defend their villages, it’s still an Israeli operation — which we of course will deny to one and all.”
Leopole did not know how to respond to such candor from a foreign general so he merely nodded.
“Your people, Colonel, absolutely must keep as low a profile as possible. Naturally, if you are attacked, you may defend yourselves.” Brafman set his thick hands on his knees and launched himself off the couch. He began pacing. “Frankly, it was foolish of our politicians to expect that third-party people could remain uninvolved. The area you will be working is of particular interest to Hezbollah, and once your presence is known, the pressure may increase rather than decrease. You understand?”
Leopole stood. “Certainly, sir. Mr. Baram said in his briefings that we might take casualties.”
A decisive nod. “Good!”
After three or four heartbeats, Brafman held up a hand. “I did not mean that the way it came out, Colonel. Naturally…”
“Yes, sir. You approve Mordecai’s honesty.”
“Well, let us say that I know of
“Certainly, General.”
Brafman was pacing again. “Now, as I was going to say… although your team will operate directly with the militias, it will always be under IDF supervision. You will meet some of our own Druze officers before you proceed to Beirut. Some of them have worked with their Lebanese cousins before, some have not. But I want to emphasize this, Colonel: whatever you may think of a given situation, your actions will be guided by Israeli interests, not American.”
Leopole shrugged. “General Brafman, I never expected anything else.”
“So. How many training teams will you deploy?”
“Two or three, depending on local requirements. We can double up where needed.”
Brafman absorbed that information, nodding solemnly. At length he said, “You must realize that some of the areas are remote, quite remote. Your men will be beyond our ability to help in anything less than several hours. More likely a day or more. Even helicopter reinforcements are no guarantee. Therefore, it is advisable to establish
