Part

4

THE MISSION

 

 

 

 

 

* * * *

 

22

 

HASBAYA, NABATIYEH GOVERNATE

 

 

Major Fahed Ayash provided the briefing almost before the SSI team had settled into temporary quarters.

 

“Welcome to Hasbaya, gentlemen. You will not be here very long but Lieutenant Colonel Leopole and I expect that some of you will be in and out of here, rotating from your militia areas. Therefore it is helpful for you to know something of the city.

 

“As you saw on the way in, Hasbaya is built on hills near Mount Hermon, sited around a tributary of the Hasbani River. The current population is about thirty thousand, and the local industries include grapes for wine and olive oil. Since you will be working with the Druze militia, you should know that a few kilometers northeast is the pilgrimage site of al Bayyada with its old praying halls.

 

“History is everywhere. Near Habbariye lie the ruins of a Roman temple with walls twenty-five feet high.” He gave a sardonic smile. “It says something that one of the newest tourist spots is the mosque with a distinctive hexagonal minaret. It was built in the thirteenth century.

 

“Otherwise, there’s the Chihabi Citadel from the Crusades in the eleventh century, plus the Chehab Palace.

 

“We’re not far from Syria. Damascus is only about thirty-five miles east, and the border is much closer. That is why your training mission is so important. The militias in the area are under increasing pressure from Hezbollah elements backed by Syria as well as Iran.”

 

Ayash turned to an easel with a map of the region. “Your primary operating areas are south and east of here, at the villages of Amasha and El-Arian. They are fairly small but their positions are important because they command obvious routes from the border, continuing farther inland to the south.” He paused for effect. “Obviously, that means toward Israel.”

 

Frank Leopole relieved Ayash at the front of the room, taking in the crowd of operators. He noted that most held rifles or carbines and some had sidearms as well. After the Beirut episode, he had recommended that everyone go armed everywhere, and the proliferation of AKs and Galils attested to the acceptance of his wisdom. Robert Pitney seemed content with his Springfield XD, but Leopole conceded that the speed shooter could do more with a pistol than many operators could accomplish with a rifle.

 

“Today we’re going to split up into two units,” Leopole began. “Partly that’s so each team can start focusing on its specific mission, and partly for security.” He did not have to elaborate. Bosco and Breezy exchanged hoo-ah glances, acknowledging that if one team was attacked before deploying to its village, the other would remain intact to accomplish its mission.

 

“I’ll take Team One to Amasha and Chris will have Team Two at El-Arian. Major Ayash will float between them as needed, and coordinate with our IDF liaison out of this facility.

 

“My team includes Bosco and Breezy, Pitney, and Barrkman. Our militia contact is Rami Hamadeh, who some of you have already met.

 

“Chris has Ashcroft, Green, Wallender, and Furr with Salah-Hassan Fares. He will be here tomorrow.

 

“Now, Barrkman and Furr. I know you sniper dudes would rather work together but we need to maximize our expertise so each of you can instruct the militia folks in your respective areas. If it becomes advisable to deploy an all-up team, we’ll pull one of you to work with the other but I hope that isn’t necessary.”

 

Furr folded his arms and said nothing. Barrkman slumped in his chair, clearly displeased with the decision. Neither would protest— they were far too professional for that and were being well paid besides.

 

Leopole turned to the map and tapped the appropriate locales. “The villes are about ten or eleven klicks apart. Depending on transport, that means we can reinforce each other in maybe ten minutes, barring en route problems. As soon as we arrive we’ll get on that contingency planning.”

 

Chris Nissen raised a hand. “Colonel, what’s current intel on the threat in that area?”

 

Leopole looked at Ayash for the answer. The Druze officer said, “It’s been a hot zone, Sergeant. And it’s likely to get hotter.”

 

* * * *

 

NABATIYEH GOVERNATE

 

Imam Elham summoned Esmaili and Azizi. “You have a mission.”

 

Esmaili absorbed the sentiment. We have a mission—he gives orders.

 

The cleric eased himself into a sitting position against a stone wall. “Your task is one of deception. We know that the infidels expect Hezbollah to take action in this area. The geographic aspects are self-evident.” He nodded behind him, toward the Syrian border fifteen kilometers away. “Therefore, you will begin a series of small actions across a broad front. Using mortars and snipers, your group and others in this area will cause as much confusion as possible, especially among the Druze villages that command terrain features or important roads. They will know that greater action is pending, but not when. And that will be our advantage.”

 

Azizi ventured a question. “Imam, when is the time?”

 

Elham looked at Azizi for a long moment. “That will be revealed when you need to know.”

 

Esmaili was thinking ahead of the game, trying to anticipate problems and requirements. “A few questions, if I may,” he began. Without awaiting approval he pressed on. “Are we to conduct these deceptions as pinprick attacks to keep the enemy off balance, or on a scale large enough to desensitize them for the greater effort?”

 

The priest cocked his head as if studying a specimen under glass. “That is an astute question, brother. It shows that you appreciate the nuances of the endeavor.” He glanced briefly at Azizi, who turned red-faced at the implication. “How would you distinguish between the two?”

 

Esmaili felt himself warming to the subject. It was a welcome relief from his usual relationship with the imam. “Mainly it is a difference of scale. As you say, with some snipers and a few mortars we can keep things unsettled with minimal effort almost indefinitely. But if there is to be a large ground offensive, we will need more men and equipment. Also more supplies.”

 

Elham nodded. “Just so. For the present Tehran and Damascus have few fighters to spare. I can tell you that those available are either committed elsewhere or are being held in reserve. But this will be a multifaceted campaign, not limited to those who fight conventionally. You both know of the survey crews that have prepared possible rocket sites. There are also clandestine teams—special operations troops— who will use the confusion caused by the larger effort to accomplish their tasks.”

 

Azizi sought to ingratiate himself again. “Whatever the assignment, we will do it, Imam. When should we begin the attacks, and what are our targets?”

 

The priest pulled a printed sheet from his robe. “These are your objectives and the schedule. But tomorrow would not be too soon.”

 

* * * *

 

NORTHERN ISRAEL

 

“You’re wrong, Sol. It’s going to be even harder than we expected.”

 

Colonel Yakov Livni and Brigadier General Solomon Nadel had a peculiar relationship. Their respective duties—covert operations and conventional ground forces and logistics—necessarily overlapped on both sides of the Lebanese border. The irony was lost on neither officer that the colonel dictated his requirements to the general, but their mutual professionalism kept them on track.

 

Nadel was unaccustomed to colonels telling him that he was wrong, but in the freewheeling IDF such candor was not unknown. “All right, I said it would be difficult to provide support to the militia. If I’m wrong, tell me how it’s going to be even harder.”

 

Livni plunked his ample bulk into a straight-backed chair and jabbed a finger at the map. “From recent intelligence we know that Hezbollah is getting more direct support from Syria. Yes, the Iranians are the power behind Hezbollah but the geographic fact remains that they can’t do much without Syrian cooperation. That means it’s doubly difficult for us to keep track of their movements, let alone their intentions.” He pushed his glasses up on his forehead. “Without more eyes and ears on the ground, we can only guess at what the Druze are going to be faced with.”

 

Nadel paced a few steps away, then returned. “Look. That’s what I don’t understand. My God, Yakov, the Druze militias are already there. They live there! Surely they know the situation better than anybody in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv.”

 

“Stay with me, Solly. Yes, of course the Druze know the local situation. We rely on their information to produce our intelligence estimates. But they’re seeing the trees, not the forest. That’s why I’m saying that the reports you receive are more pessimistic, and justifiably so. They include information from more sensitive sources, especially back-channel reports and what the politicians call ‘technical methods.’ Of course that means signal intelligence and decrypts, but nobody wants to say so.”

 

Nadel threw up his hands. “All right, then. Quit trying to impress me with your high and mighty sources that you can’t reveal. For the moment let’s say that I accept them at face value. Just tell me what I need to know in order to support your Druze friends.”

 

Livni smiled for a change. “Now we’re getting somewhere. The American training teams are ready to move from Hasbaya to the first two villages. Amasha and El-Arian. There has already been sporadic Hezbollah action in that area. Nothing dramatic, just harassment. A few sniping incidents, some mortars and roadside bombs. But we expect that’s going to increase, either as part of a bigger harassment campaign or as cover for something else.”

 

“Cover? You mean something covert?”

 

An exaggerated shrug with raised hands. “It’s too early to tell. But I need your boys to be ready to reinforce either of those places on short notice. If Hezbollah makes an overt effort to seize one or the other, it could signal the start of a larger offensive. In that case, we need to move fast.”

 

“I agree. But in what strength?”

 

“General, I’m glad you asked.”

 

* * * *