it’s a fresh way of looking at an old problem.”
Nadel leaned forward. “Yakov, you always pique my curiosity. May I ask what’s the problem this time?”
“Peanut butter.”
The general’s face betrayed incredulity. Before Nadel could respond, Livni explained. “There’s a big dispute in some orthodox communities about whether peanuts can be used during Passover. You know, like other legumes. I told Feldmann that the Ashkenazi don’t allow peanuts but do allow peanut oil, which is true. And presumably kosher peanut butter should be allowed. Since he’s not Ashkenazi it’s not really a concern but he disagrees.” Livni shrugged. “Feldmann often disagrees just to be disagreeable.”
While Nadel absorbed that revelation, Livni folded his arms and tapped his toes. “What can I do for you, General?”
Nadel shook his head as if avoiding a pesky gnat. “Get rid of that damned sergeant. He’s undermining your morale and the national war effort.”
“Well, as long as I run special operations, I’ll keep some special people around me. Now, what’s on your mind?”
“I got your message about the militia situation in El-Arian. I agree they’re going to need a Druze officer to replace Captain Fares.”
Livni nodded slowly, pondering options. “Do you have anyone in mind?”
“I’m thinking of Hussain Halabi. A bright, energetic lieutenant. Do you know him?”
“I’ve heard of him.” The colonel unzipped a wry grin. “But God deliver us from bright, energetic lieutenants!”
“Well, he has some experience over there and I think he would fit in. Besides, he’s the best English speaker among the likely candidates, and that’s important.”
“Agreed. The militia is asking for more American instructors but that’s going to take a little time. The way things are going in that area, they might not arrive soon enough to make a difference.”
Nadel inclined his torso, obviously interested. “Why? What have you heard?”
“I don’t think I’ve heard much more than you have, Sol. But the way I see things, there’s likely to be more Hezbollah activity than before. It could lead to something bigger than we’ve seen in quite a while.”
“All right, then. I’ll make sure that my boys keep their contingency plans updated.” He wagged a cautionary finger. “Just don’t let me be surprised, Colonel!”
29
“Okay, who can we send? I have to let the admiral or Marsh Wilmont know today.” Sandra Carmichael did not like to lean on a colleague, but time was short and getting shorter.
Matt Finch of SSI’s personnel department was ready for the inquiry. “Ken Delmore’s ready to go and Steve Lee says he’ll commit to a couple of months if we really need him. But that’s going to cause problems.”
“Yes, I know. Wallender was committed to the full contract, so if Steve only signs on for sixty days we’ll end up short again.”
Finch nodded. “Yes, but there’s more than that. I mean, he’s a former major and a Ranger to boot. How’s he going to fit in with Nissen’s team? They don’t know each other very well, and I just don’t see Staff Sergeant Nissen rolling over for a new guy O-4.” He shrugged. “It could cause more problems than it solves.”
Carmichael leaned back and examined her manicured nails. “Well, one thing’s for sure. We can’t tell the operators in the field how to do things. I’ll get hold of Frank and see what he says. Maybe the best bet is to reshuffle the deck. Send Delmore to Nissen and transfer one of Frank’s people as well. Then Lee can understudy Frank — maybe work as his exec.”
Finch gave a toothy grin. “Colonel, did you ever consider a career in the personnel field?”
Carmichael speared the human resources dweeb with her blue gaze. “Negative. Not once. Not ever.”
Hazim was the man of the hour. Though trying to maintain Muslim decorum, he simply could not suppress the soaring feeling of ego gratification.
It was delicious.
Azizi added spice to the taste by openly lauding Hazim. “Our sources are clear, my brothers. Hazim fearlessly engaged a superior number of the enemy and killed or wounded three of them. He is our lion! Learn from him and become lions yourselves!”
Sharp male roars erupted from the jihadists, reducing in the end to a rhythmic chant. “Ha-zim! Ha-zim!”
Standing behind the crowd, Esmaili permitted himself a sardonic smile. He recalled the debriefing after Hazim returned without Tawfiq.
Now all that was suppressed, never to arise.
Azizi waved down the cheering fighters. Esmaili actually thought that the man seemed to believe everything he was declaring. “Hazim has spilled the blood of our enemies before, and now he adds to the count even at night. He should be the model for us all, and I promise you, brothers — he will have every chance to do so again!”
More cheers erupted from the crowd. Even Ebrahim Larijani joined in the chorus, seemingly recovered from his lesser notoriety at surviving the Beirut mission.
“Learn the lesson, O my brothers!” Azizi’s voice rose in pitch as the spirit came upon him. Or, as Esmaili cynically surmised, as the manipulator arose in him. “The product of slaying the infidel is not merely reducing his numbers. It is instilling fear in the black hearts of the survivors. We shall multiply that fear by making known the names of our finest warriors. I promise you, the name of Hazim is being known and feared by our enemies!”
Frank Leopole convened his team members on short notice. “There’s been some developments that you guys need to know about. Rather than recycle the intel, I’ll have Captain Hamadeh fill you in.”
The Israeli Druze officer stepped to the head of the room. “You know of the incident a few nights ago when Captain Fares was killed and Mr. Wallender was wounded. We are hearing from believable sources that it was the work of a particular sniper with a Hezbollah unit in this area. He is called Hazim. We do not know much about him, other than he is young and apparently experienced. The fact that his name has been released indicates that Hezbollah places considerable faith in him. It is not entirely unknown for particular fighters to receive such attention, but often it turns to a propaganda ploy.”
Rick Barrkman took a special interest in his opposite number. “Captain, you say that he’s young and experienced. How do we know that?”
“There have been two radio broadcasts extolling this Hazim. They were monitored by our signals intelligence.”
“So we really don’t know how authentic the info is.”
“No. As I said, it could be propaganda, but the details of the latest incident indicate otherwise. My special operations contacts treat Hazim as a genuine threat.”
The other Americans were serious, silent, and focused. Leopole took them in: Bosco and Breezy plus Robert Pitney. At length Breezy asked, “So are we gonna hunt for this guy or what?”
Leopole interjected. “We are not. It’s possible that’s what they want us to do. Otherwise there’s not much reason to put some shooter in the spotlight — distract us with a stalking horse.”
Hamadeh cocked his head. “Stalking horse?”
“It’s a deception. Goes way back to the early days of hunting when animals were scared off by humans but a horse or cattle distracted the game’s attention from the hunter. In this case, Hazim or whoever he is could be
