Vulcan's Fire

The anointed pair immediately rose. Esmaili thought that Larijani appeared more enthused than Yazdi, but both presented an air of willing complicity.

“You will execute the plan that has been drafted. I will take you to your operating area, where Brother Esmaili will supervise the details.”

Esmaili looked directly at Hazim. The boy’s face was a mask. His superior realized that it reflected stunned disbelief. Esmaili thought: He cannot believe that they have been chosen over him.

Azizi was speaking again. “I am informing all of you about this plan for two reasons. First, so that you will realize the seriousness of your training. And secondly, so that those not selected for this mission can help the designated fighters prepare in the limited time.” He nodded and the two shooters sat down.

“You have much to do. I want you to confirm the scope settings on your rifles, select the best quality ammunition, and pack whatever else you may need. If all goes well, you may be back here in three days.

“Meanwhile, Imam Elham will provide a benediction before you leave to take your place in the jihad.” He glanced at Esmaili. “Be ready to leave by sunset, after Salat-ul-Asr.”

Esmaili ignored Hazim’s doelike eyes and followed Azizi from the building. While the others were congratulating Larijani and Yazdi on their great good fortune, the cell leader caught up with his superior.

“Azizi, I need a word with you.”

The liaison man slowed and, reluctantly, turned. “We can talk on the drive north.”

“Not without the others hearing us. Before I take those boys to this mission, I would know more of the intelligence behind it. Mainly, how is it known that the targets are Americans?”

With an obvious exertion of patience, Azizi replied, “There is no doubt, brother. It comes from direct observation. They are employed by a paramilitary contractor that works for the highest bidder. And in anticipation of your other questions, we believe their ultimate destination is a Druze area because their benefactor in Beirut is a well-known Druze operative. He seldom deals with other communities.”

Esmaili absorbed that information and drew the logical conclusion. “And since we are operating in a Druze area, the Americans are likely to work against us here.”

After a slow three-count, Azizi replied, “We are engaged in preventive measures, brother. Consider your mission in that light.”

KARA COMPOUND, BEIRUT

Rafix Kara wanted to throw a welcome banquet for the SSI team, and while the Americans appreciated the sentiment, most were skeptical of Druze cuisine. Informed of the impending dinner, Frank Leopole laid down the law.

“We are dining in tomorrow night. You will not only eat what Mr. Kara feeds us, but you will enjoy it! These people have gone out of their way to welcome us, and by Chesty Puller’s ghost, we are going to show our appreciation.”

Breezy looked wide-eyed. “Chesty’s ghost? You mean he’s dead?” He searched the room with a say-it-ain’t- so urgency. “My God, why didn’t somebody tell me?” He turned to Bosco, laid his hands on his partner’s shoulder, and cradled his head. Breezy’s shoulders quivered in a fair impersonation of bone-deep grief, accompanied by soap-opera sobs. Bosco bought into the sudden drama fest by patting the former paratrooper’s back in a there-there motion.

Leopole had to turn away to hide his smile. He decided to ignore the histrionics and proceeded with the briefing. Turning to face the audience again, he continued. “You got a briefing on Druze culture in Arlington but it didn’t include food. However, I think we can expect lamb or chicken plus a vegetable dish, then some entertainment. If you can’t choke that down, well, there’s need for a couple of sentries on the roof tomorrow night. Somebody to back up one of our snipers.”

Breezy raised his head from Bosco’s shoulder. “Will Chesty’s ghost be up there? I’d feel better if he was walking point.”

Mark Brezyinski did not realize that he had just hung a high, slow one over the center of Frank Leopole’s plate. The former Marine swung and connected.

“Well, I don’t know, Mr. Brezyinski, but since you demonstrate such concern, I could excuse you from the night’s sampling of Lebanese cuisine.”

Bosco was cautiously interested. “Colonel, if we stand guard duty, what would we eat?”

“Oh, I can get you some burgers and fries from a McDonald’s in the neighborhood. Maybe some half-liter Cokes.”

The trap was well and truly baited.

Breezy perked up. “Gosh, Colonel, that’d be great.”

“All right, then. You go on duty at 1800. I’ll send somebody for your burgers around 1930 and you’ll be relieved at 2200. Of course, that means you’ll miss the floor show.”

“Floor show? You mean there’s entertainment?”

Leopole fished a paper from his pocket and feigned difficulty reading it. Holding the note at arm’s length, he said, “Jasmine and Bahiya. Apparently they’re sisters.”

Bosco asked, “What are they? Like, singers?”

The tight little smile was back on Leopole’s face. “Actually, they’re like belly dancers.”

The room erupted in hoots and howls. Bosco and Breezy received hearty thanks for volunteering to miss the Druze cuisine and the evening’s onerous conclusion.

18

BEIRUT

“There is the target area,” Azizi said. “I leave it to you as to how you proceed.”

Esmaili studied the compound, first from the north, then from the other sides. Keeping a block away with his binoculars, he drew sketches and set his men making notes about the guards’ routine. As he expected, there was none. Unpredictability was a sure sign of professionalism.

The Iranian cast a look at the afternoon sky. The operation would be conducted after dark, affording his shooters a compromise between visibility and concealment. But the distances were fairly short — barely two hundred meters — and even Ebrahim Larijani and Moshen Yazdi should be able to get hits under those conditions. Esmaili wished for another night scope but the Dragunovs available to him had limited optics.

Esmaili was not overly concerned. The SVD rifle’s standard four-power scope featured a battery-powered reticle and an infrared filter. He had ensured that everyone in his sniper class had some experience with night firing, at least under full moon conditions. Tonight was a waning moon but the city’s ambient lighting would make up much of the difference.

As for the two shooters, Esmaili knew that they were not ready for combat, but perhaps they were ready for a couple of assassinations. He double-checked the figures on his crude range card and returned to the briefing point with Azizi.

“The tactical situation is favorable,” Esmaili began. His two students were attentively wary. All they knew so far was that they would have a glorious opportunity to strike the Great Satan. “We will fire from the north and the east sides of the target building, coordinating by radio. Each of you will have two of brother Azizi’s guards as your security element.” He looked directly at each youngster, pinning their gaze with a practiced mixture of sympathy and intensity.

“We will synchronize our watches before deploying, because it is important to have precise timing. The main attack will fall within seconds of your shots, so any guards on the roof or the walls need to be eliminated before they can provide warnings.”

Larijani spoke up. “What should we do after the main attack?”

Esmaili caught a sideways glance from Azizi. He does not expect either of these boys to be alive at that time. “Withdraw with your security element to this position and await orders.”

“Where will you be, Teacher?” Yazdi was the more nervous of the pair, and that was saying something.

“I shall be on another rooftop, communicating by radio. Do not worry, brothers. I am never far from