Livni rubbed his face, felt the stubble, and decided to ignore it. He threw off the blanket and swung his feet onto the floor. “All right. I’m awake so I might as well get up. I want to talk to Halabi in ten minutes. Then I need to see Sol Nadel. Call his chief of staff.”
The aide grinned wryly. “Yakov, you know what happens to captains who wake generals before 0600?”
“I have no idea. So let’s find out, shall we?”
“There is a problem,” Azizi announced. It was still early, even before the
The imam’s acolyte approached Esmaili, who threw back the blanket and stretched himself off his cot. “We have to hold a planning meeting immediately.”
Esmaili mussed his black hair, nodded while stifling a yawn, and from instinct picked up his AK-47. He followed Azizi out of the room, trailing him to the headquarters building.
Inside, Sadegh Elham was already convening the session. Among those present were the mortar crews plus Akhmed with Hazim and two lesser snipers.
The cleric wasted no time. “Early this morning one of our couriers became lost in the dark. He foolishly continued rather than awaiting daylight and drove into a Druze roadblock. Again, rather foolishly, he attempted to force his way through and was shot to pieces. One man survived and made his way here, wounded.
“We do not know if any of our brothers survived, but we must assume that at least one did. Therefore, the security we expected from minimal radio communication may be compromised. I do not believe that any useful documents fell into hostile hands, but anyone captured by the Zionist entity will be tortured into revealing what he knows.”
Elham delivered a scowl that scalded the audience with the heat of his disapproval. A few jihadists squirmed uncomfortably; they read the tacit message.
“We are attempting to determine what the militia forces have learned, because anything that comes to them will be shared with the Jews. So unless we receive reliable information fairly soon, we must assume the worst. That means a premature assault on the Druze villages, and an early launching of our main attack.”
At that, Elham nodded to Azizi, who rose and faced the audience.
“We are requesting immediate deployment of our special operators as a contingency against updated enemy intelligence. The working details of the plan probably will not change, but the timetable undoubtedly will. You are all advised to hold yourselves in immediate readiness. Double-check your weapons and equipment. Meanwhile, our group leaders will remain to finalize plans and schedules.” He surveyed the men before him, then nodded briskly. “You are dismissed.”
Frank Leopole was up before dawn. So was everyone else.
“Okay, people, here’s how it looks.” The SSI leader wanted a closed-door meeting with his instructors before discussing plans with the militia.
“Last night the checkpoint down at the fork of the road had a dustup with a Hezbollah unit. There were four Hezzies in a pickup, and apparently they were lost because they stumbled straight into our guys. There was a short firefight resulting in two hostile KIAs and one prisoner, WIA. Another one got away.
“The militia took the POW to El-Arian for immediate treatment. He’s Iranian, and had some documents that Lieutenant Halabi says are somewhat useful. But the most interesting intel came while he was sedated for treatment of two GSWs. He was babbling in Farsi, so Halabi got a translator and stroked the POW. I am informed there’s reason to believe a Hezbollah operation is imminent, and we are treating that as a serious threat. From now on we’re maintaining a twenty-four-hour watch at thirty percent immediate readiness and thirty percent standby. We will maintain that schedule until further notice.”
Steve Lee, now the de facto second in command, barely had time to adjust to his new surroundings. “Frank, what can we expect? Are we looking at an Alamo-type siege or more harassment?”
Out of earshot of the militia, Leopole permitted himself some dry humor. “Well, Steve, if we’re at the Alamo, I’m Bowie and you’re Travis. The rest of you can fight over who’s Davy Crockett but I don’t relish the prospect for any of those roles.”
Picking up on the unaccustomed levity, Bosco rasped to Breezy. “I saw the Disney reruns. Guess I’m Georgie Russell. ‘Give ‘em whut fur, Davy!’”
35
The Mercedes truck had seen better days, but its battered exterior was an advantage to the owners. Its obvious hard use over the years helped conceal the exceptional cargo it carried.
The brakes squealed as the vehicle slid to a halt. Mohammad Azizi quickened his pace across the courtyard, smiling in anticipation while the driver and four passengers dismounted.
“Friends! My brothers! Welcome, welcome to you all.” He indulged in a round of hand shaking and cheek kissing, especially with the senior man. When Elham materialized behind him, Azizi was quick to make the introductions.
“Abbas Jannati, I believe you know the imam.”
Jannati inclined his head, grasping hands with the cleric. “It has been many months since our meeting with Dr. Momen.”
“You traveled safely?” Elham asked.
“Oh, yes. Our Syrian friends were most helpful, even though they did not know our exact mission.”
“That is as we planned it,” Elham replied evenly. He eyed the other jihadists. “And these are our messengers to the Zionists?”
“Chosen by the doctor himself, Imam. They are pledged to deliver the, ah, packages, just as you stated.”
Elham eyed the volunteers from Tehran. He decided that he would spend some time with each in order to confirm their devotion, but if they passed Momen’s scrutiny, they were committed.
“Brothers,” he declared. “Welcome. You may consider this place the portal to Paradise.”
“Come with me.”
Few colonels give orders to generals, but Yakov Livni and Solomon Nadel had an unusual relationship. Livni led Nadel well away from the operations block, stopped at an M113 armored personnel carrier, and motioned the general inside. The vehicle was empty.
“What do you know about an Iranian scientist named Momen?”
Nadel’s eyes widened. “The physicist? That’s a bad one, I think. A hard-liner.”
“So you know of him.”
“He’s involved in their nuclear program.” Nadel almost visibly shivered. “Yakov, you’re making me nervous.”
“Well, misery loves company. Otherwise I wouldn’t be talking to you inside an armored vehicle when my office has furniture and airconditioning.” Livni glanced around the interior of the American-built APC. “Now, I’m mainly here to see if you’re hearing what I’m hearing. So—”
“So,” Nadel interjected, “if your sources come from beyond mine, then something’s afoot that can only mean bad news.”
Livni nodded. “It’s all coming together, Sol. The radio intercepts, some documents we have, ah, acquired. And now the fortunate acquisition of the Hezbollah courier near Hasbaya.” He gave his colleague a playful nudge. “You’ve been to school. What do two and two amount to?”
The general gave his colleague a grim smile. “I’ve learned that it’s not four, because in this business things are seldom what they seem.”