relations with other villages and other militias in each area. That is where our own Druze officers can help the most.”
Leopole accepted the information stoically. “Yes, sir. It’s pretty much what we were told in Arlington.” He stepped to a wall map covering Israel, Lebanon, and much of Syria and Jordan. Tapping the paper he said, “General, besides reinforcements and supplies, I see our big concern as communications. We have cellular capability and may even be able to talk to headquarters in Arlington. But as I understand it, we’re relying on your people for contact with you.”
The Israeli nodded. “That is correct. Our liaison officers are well equipped. The militias… not so much.”
Leopole turned away from the map to face his host. “You know, if I were a Hezbollah planner, I’d start working on a way to interrupt your comm. Then I’d drop the hammer before anybody here realized something was going down.”
A taut smile. “Colonel Leopole, I admire men who think as I do. That is why our liaison and training teams have communications specialists with frequency-agile radios, encryption, and burst transmission capability.” He raised an eyebrow. “And not all of it is made in the U.S. A.”
“As long as it works, General. As long as it works.”
Brafman then turned to the map. He ran a finger along the northeastern border. “Here we are fifteen kilometers from the border, well within range of Katyushas.” He turned to his guest. “In 2006, some of us spent time in the bomb shelters, I can tell you. But you will be working opposite the area of the division in this area. Solomon Nadel, one of the brigade commanders, is tasked with supporting your mission, and he works with the special operations branch, which conducts our efforts in Lebanon.” He looked at Leopole. “I can read your mind. Do not worry about too many layers of command authority. This is a streamlined operation, and as I just noted, your IDF liaisons will have direct contact with brigade, special ops, and with me.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Then we understand one another.” He sat down at his desk and pressed the intercom. “Gabriella, would you bring us some refreshments?”
Mohammad Azizi brought the word.
“Dr. Momen’s colleague will arrive in two or three days. I am to escort him across the Syrian border.”
Ahmad Esmaili set down his topographic map. “Who is he?”
Azizi slid into a chair. He felt more at ease with his fellow Iranian since returning from Tehran. “Imam Sadegh Elham. He is an old friend of Dr. Momen. They have much in common, especially The Faith… and science.”
“Science. There are priests and scholars who insist that Islam should not become dependent upon science or technology. Such men cite the corruption of the West.”
The liaison officer waved dismissively. “Well, Imam Elham is not among them.”
“What do you know of him?”
“A devout servant of God. More a leader than a scholar, I believe.”
“No, no. I mean his background. His influence.”
“Well, I know that he has ministered to various Hezbollah units in recent years, often with prestigious assignments. His name has been connected with our rocket forces.”
Esmaili perked up. “Rocket forces? What is the need of an imam there?”
Azizi permitted himself an ironic smile. “My brother, God’s minions are needed everywhere the faithful are found.”
The commander squinted in concentration, staring at the floor. “Rockets. That could explain what Dr. Momen meant when he referred to ‘technical experts.’” He raised his gaze. “Since the blessed doctor is involved in nuclear research…”
Azizi shook his head. “No, no. I do not think so.” His voice was harsh, insistent. Clearly he did not like the sum of two and two. “Besides, there would have to be testing to match a nuclear warhead to any rocket.”
“We do not know all that occurs in Iran… or Korea. Or elsewhere. Who is to say what has been tested and what has not?”
Esmaili referred to his map again. Spreading it on the table, he laid out the geography. “From this area there are not many worthwhile targets within range. Haifa is well beyond the 122mm Katyusha rockets but barely within range of Fajr 3s based just inside of the border, not to mention Fajr 5s. But from this area, Haifa is too far.”
“What about the Zelzal rocket? One hears much of it.”
Esmaili fidgeted, feeling mildly angry that he had little current knowledge of rockets and missiles, though he knew Zelzal was the latter. Many jihadists tended to use the terms interchangeably. Moreover, most of what he did know dated from his brief tenure with Dr. Momen.
But there was something else, more unsettling. It occurred to him:
“Depending upon the model, Zelzal has a range of one hundred fifty to perhaps four hundred kilometers. I believe it carries a six-hundred-kilogram warhead.” He thought for a moment, trying to dredge up the figures from his memory. “The Shahab 3 and 4 possess much greater range — from twelve hundred to two thousand kilometers. They are based on the North Korean No-dong, and probably carry a thousand-kilogram warhead.”
“Then they would be better used here than closer to the border.” Azizi flicked the map. “They can easily reach any point in Israel.”
Esmaili rubbed his chin, then brushed his mustache. “Yes, but it makes no military sense. As soon as the Jews discover long-range missiles in this area they would destroy them.”
“But how would they know? Surely the Shahab batteries would set up quickly, fire their rockets, and be gone.”
The cell leader regarded his colleague. “The Americans must have satellites overhead almost constantly. They give any such information to the Zionists.” He paused to allow that sentiment to set in. “No, the longest range weapons would only be fired from Iran itself, where retaliation would be most difficult.”
“Very well, then,” Azizi replied. “The Fajr series is too short-ranged and Shahab too sophisticated for use here. Therefore, let us assume a Zelzal with two-hundred-kilometer range. From here, that could strike Haifa, Netanya, and Nablus. But if we were to move thirty kilometers southwest, to Qiryat Shemona, a Zelzal could reach Tel Aviv.”
Esmaili saw the logic: Zelzals could be deployed on trucks and dedicated launch vehicles — a definite advantage given Israeli air superiority. Still, something did not track quite right. “Brother, even assuming you are correct, consider the outcome. We would have to fire many missiles to achieve worthwhile damage, and even with mobile launchers they could be found and destroyed. That indicates a few missiles carrying massive warheads. Therefore…”
“Therefore,” Azizi interjected, “either Imam Elham and Dr. Momen are planning nuclear rockets or something else entirely.”
10
The SSI team was assembled at a secure compound that afforded a few days of preparation before proceeding to Lebanon. Frank Leopole allowed the men to settle in, get better acquainted, and enjoy the pool or exercise room. Then it was down to business.
At the initial briefing Leopole related the administrative details. “I met with General Brafman of Israeli Northern Command, and he laid out the situation. You already know we’re working with Druze militia in southern Lebanon, and we’ll have IDF Druze members as liaison officers and translators. Largely we’ll be semi-independent, sometimes in fairly remote areas, but I am assured that we’ll have secure, reliable comm via the IDF people.” He stopped for a moment, then added, “If it works, that’s great. If not, I have some backup that should permit us to talk directly to HQ in Arlington. It’ll be on an as-needed basis, but Admiral Derringer said the board sprung for the extra gear just to cover the bases.”
