38

BEIRUT

The embassy staffer spotted the SSI men as soon as they appeared from the jetway. “Dr. Mohammed and Dr. Langevin?”

Omar Mohammed set down his briefcase to shake hands. “Yes. We didn’t know who would meet us . . .”

“Jim Bassinger.” He greeted Langevin as well, showing his ID. Then he said, “I’ll get you through customs as fast as possible. Follow me, gentlemen.”

Mohammed and Langevin exchanged knowing smiles. “Mr.” Bassinger wore civvies but he looked West Point, which in fact was the case.

Safely in the embassy limo, Bassinger immediately got down to business. “I don’t know what you heard before you left, but things are pretty tense here. There’s two or three bombings a week and the army and police have their hands full. I know that your situation is compounded because there’s no official Israeli presence, and I understand that SSI is contracted to the Israeli government. We’ve been tasked to support you as much as possible, but it’s limited.”

“How so?” Mohammed asked.

“Hezbollah and probably a bunch of other Islamic outfits have most of the embassies and consulates under constant surveillance. Your people, the Druze militia, are especially of interest. You probably heard about the attack on Rafix Kara’s compound a while back.”

Langevin nodded. “It was mentioned in our departure briefing.”

“Well, Kara died yesterday. The news hasn’t been released yet, probably because it’s still uncertain who will replace him. Frankly, I’m not sure that anybody can.”

Mohammed absorbed that information and filed it for later reference. “Mister . . . ah, it isn’t really Mister Bassinger, is it?”

The staffer’s mouth curved slightly at both ends. “Dr. Mohammed, it’s not even Bassinger, but it’ll have to do. I know you’ll understand.”

Langevin appreciated the fact that he was dealing with a professional. The State Department ID had shown that the bearer was James L. Bassinger. “So, what can you do for us, sir?”

“We’ll put you up in a secure facility tonight and see about getting you down to Hasbaya tomorrow. You’ll have an armed escort but there may be a delay. It looks as if Hezbollah is going to attack Amasha or El-Arian. Maybe both.”

The physicist had suspected as much. “In that case, I would like to have a weapon myself.”

Bassinger almost grinned at the sentiment. “Dr. Langevin, you will understand that the United States Department of State does not issue firearms to visiting citizens.” Before either SSI man could reply, Bassinger added, “However, your Druze escorts undoubtedly will have a fine selection for you.”

Langevin noticed the telltale bulge of Bassinger’s suit coat. “What do you carry, James?”

The staffer kept a straight face. “I don’t understand the question.”

* * * *

NABATIYEH GOVERNATE

Imam Sadegh Elham returned from the evening prayer and made the announcement. “It came to me during Salat-ul-Asr. The weather remains favorable so we will attack tomorrow.”

Esmaili knew what that meant. “Then the weapons teams will leave the day after, to take advantage of the confusion in the area.”

“Just so,” Elham replied. He turned to Azizi. “Brother, the attacks on the villages are in your hands. As we planned, do everything possible to draw attention on the local area. Keep up the pressure, regardless of casualties.” After a short pause he added, “We can always find more recruits for the jihad.”

The cleric returned his attention to Esmaili and Jannati. “My brothers, your service has been long and hard. At the end of this mission, you will finally be able to rest.”

For the moment, Esmaili decided to ignore the religious significance of that sentiment. But the meaning was clear enough. He glanced at Jannati, who would carry the package with an assistant. The nuclear jihadist appeared calm and composed. He has already decided to die.

* * * *

NORTHERN ISRAEL

Yakov Livni walked into Solomon Nadel’s quarters unannounced. When the duty noncom intercepted him in the foyer, he waved her down. “Tell Sol that I need to see him.”

Nadel appeared several minutes later, buttoning a checkered shirt, noticeably disheveled. “This had better be damned important,” he growled. “My wife got a rare attack of libido half an hour ago.”

“Well, that should be plenty of time, even at your age,” Livni quipped. “Besides, aren’t nuclear weapons in Lebanon pretty damned important?”

The brigadier detoured to the kitchen and returned with two beers. He dismissed the housekeeper with a nod.

“Tell me.”

“Solomon, I’m sticking my neck out—way out. The information we discussed before has been confirmed again so I’m sending some small teams across the border. But if any of them run into the kind of trouble you’d expect with backpack bombs, they’re going to need help.” He paused, staring into his friend’s face. “The kind of help only you can provide.”

Nadel’s response was a long stare. Finally he took another sip from his bottle and set it down. “Who else knows?”

“You, me, my chief of staff, and the operators. Twelve men in three teams.”

“Nobody in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv?”

Livni grinned. “I’m old and bald, Sol. I’m not slow and stupid.”

“Well, if we’re lucky—really lucky—nothing will come of it. After all, it’s still not certain that the backpacks exist, just that there’s a plan. But if something does turn up, and we intercept the bombs, then everything is all right. Nobody will get a medal or anything, but the heat will be off.”

“My God, Sol. You’re talking like a politician!”

Nadel tapped his shoulder, where an epaulette would rest. “It comes with the position. As you well know.” He leaned forward, sliding the beer aside.

“Look, if I have to send my people in to get your people, I’d be obliged to notify higher command. I’d have to inform headquarters even if I didn’t wait for permission. Besides that, there’s no keeping a secret with this sort of thing.” He smiled. “As you well know.”

Livni finally reached for his own beer and sampled it. “Hmmm . . . not bad.” He regarded his nominal superior across the table. “I’ll tell you what I know, Solomon. I know that your main concern is that I’ve started an operation that may result in some of your boys having to cross the fence, and some of them may not come back. I’m sorry for that—as sorry as I can be. But how in God’s name can we allow portable nuclear bombs along our border, let alone risking their getting inside?”

“What about your Druze contacts? Can’t they help?”

“Some of them are aware of the situation, but I don’t control them.” He bit his lip in concentration. Then he said, “You know that Rafix Kara died?”

Nadel leaned back, as if nudged. “No. My God, when?”

“Just the other day. There was no question of him making a full recovery but I thought maybe . . .”

“Maybe you could talk to him again?”

“Well, that would have been nice.”

“So who will take over?”

Livni gave an eloquent shrug. “Who knows? His surviving boy, God love him, he’s a fine youngster. But he’s too young to fill his father’s shoes, and I don’t know who else might step up.” He exhaled, almost a sigh. “I’m afraid it will degenerate into a power struggle, Sol. All the time and effort in building up a really useful, reliable organization. Now . . .”

Solomon Nadel finished the sentiment. “Now we need them more than ever.”

* * * *