Raphael saw he was scared and said, “This is no different than the last time we were here. The only difference is we were official then. These men aren’t any more dangerous.”
Leonardo gave a halfhearted laugh and said, “Yeah, the last time we were here, they cut our boss’s balls off. Looking forward to it.”
Raphael said, “Hang on for a day. You have the skill. You’re just disoriented by the language and the culture. You remember what you told me before? About the Bosnian war?”
Leonardo looked at him, then slowly nodded.
Raphael said, “You wished you were old enough to make a difference. And now you are. Those savages then did more than just cut off balls. They raped our women and tortured our fathers for sport. These men are the same, just like the ones you wanted to fight. No different.”
Two men approached the table asking in English if they could take a seat. Raphael said, “There are other tables here.”
The first, dressed in a track suit and a two-day stubble of beard, said, “We think we’d like to sit at this table.” He didn’t say it as if he was asking permission.
Raphael looked toward Tariq filling up the tank of the Land Cruiser, and the second man, wearing camouflaged pants, boots, and a loose-fitting combat blouse, said, “Tariq knows us. And now we want to know you.”
Raphael pushed a chair out with his foot and said, “Go ahead.”
They sat down, track suit guy saying, “So you believe in the Prophet?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He leaned forward and said, “Where are you from, you pasty monkeys?”
Raphael said, “Bosnia.”
“Did you fight there? Against the Crusaders?”
“No. It was before my time. I was too young, but I saw the damage. It’s why I’m here now.”
Track suit studied him, then said, “Because of the Ummah? Because of what was done to the faithful?”
Raphael locked eyes with him and said, “Yes. It’s why I’m sitting in front of you. I told myself it would never happen again, and the only way to accomplish that is to fight.”
Satisfied, track suit said, “So you know about drones, is that correct?”
Raphael said, “Yes. I wouldn’t say I could build one, but I know how to make them work.”
“Good, because we have some that have been in storage, so to speak, and we’re getting asked to prepare them for use, but don’t know how to get them in the air. They’re big.”
“The cache in Daraa? Is that the one?”
Surprised, the camouflaged man said, “How do you know about the cache?”
Raphael said, “We work in the same circles. I was in Daraa once before, during the war against the rebels. I saw them then.”
Daraa was a city in southern Syria, on the edge of the borders of the Golan Heights, Israel, and Jordan, and was the wellspring of the current civil war inside the country. In 2011, it was the first city to rise up against the Syrian regime as the Arab Spring was sweeping the Middle East, with students protesting peacefully against the government. As had happened all over the Middle East, that peace lasted only as long as the regime held patience.
Daraa was where the first slaughter occurred, and where the civil war began, the city itself now reduced to rubble, but the fight against the regime continued. In 2018, Russia engendered a cease-fire in the province, the crux of it being that Assad’s men wouldn’t come in, but the rebels had to leave.
The Russians literally bussed the rebel fighters out of the city to other areas in the country, only to have them continue the fight. In the vacuum that was created, Hezbollah, a stalwart defender of Assad, took control. The land now belonged to Iran, even if it wasn’t overtly said out loud. The Americans and the Russians just wanted the shooting to stop, and if that meant Hezbollah seizing terrain, then so be it. The immediate fighting inside the Daraa province was done. The future fight against Israel didn’t factor into the equation.
Until now.
Track suit said, “Did you fight then?”
“Yes, I did. I killed many, many infidels, and I’m here to kill more. My guide Tariq can speak to that.”
Track suit waved his hand and said, “Originally, you were supposed to just train us on the drones. Things have changed. We have orders to prepare to strike the heart of the little Satan, and we don’t know how to get them in the air.”
Surprised, Leonardo said, “Israel? Why? What’s going on there?”
Track suit said, “Haven’t you seen the news? Israel and America are preparing for war against Iran. They’ve created a precondition to destroy the country, and we’ll retaliate from here.”
Leonardo looked at Raphael, who said, “What precondition?”
“They’re blaming our sister militia in Iraq of killing people. Diplomats and others affiliated with the Great Satan. We’ve talked to the men in charge, and they say it’s all a lie. Basically, America and Israel have tried to eliminate the Islamic Republic of Iran for decades, and haven’t been able to do so, so they’re creating conditions to attack through force. We’ll respond from here.”
Raphael heard the words and thought, This is going to work.
Chapter 61
We landed in Beirut, a place where being Israeli wasn’t an asset. Lebanon gave a rat’s ass about the virus, but took a dim view of anyone with an Israeli passport. They weren’t the best-loved members of the neighborhood, COVID be damned. We taxied to the FBO hard stand and I said, “Okay, sorry about this, but you’re going to be flight crew here. Staying with the plane.”
Shoshana said, “Pike, I know what you said on the flight over, but you want me there. You need me there.”
I looked at Aaron, who understood where I was coming from. He said, “Shoshana, let it go. Soon we’ll be back in Israel, and it will be Pike asking to continue.”
Which wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but he was speaking the truth. My being in charge of our little team had always been based on consensus, and that had been bent at every moment. Aaron and Shoshana followed me out of deference, not command. Israel, which is where we where going next, would break it. No way would I be able to claim team leader when we hit the ground in Israel, where the Mossad was paying for the hunt. I wasn’t sure what to do about that yet, since I also answered to the Taskforce.
One bridge at a time. Right now, I had to become the undercover diplomat for the United States of America, having received a back-channel message from the president of the United States. It was short and sweet, basically saying, “We don’t think it’s you. Don’t cause a war.” And now I was supposed to pass that along.
The pilot opened the door, letting the stairs down, and I leaned forward, pecking Shoshana on the cheek. I said, “If I could take you, I would. Because I trust you.”
Her eyes went wide at the gesture. Aaron smiled and she looked up at me in a new light, saying, “Okay, Nephilim. I trust you. We’ll see you soon.”
Jennifer grinned at the exchange, and Shoshana flicked her head to Knuckles, saying, “So you’ll take him instead?”
I started walking to the front of the aircraft, saying, “Yeah, might be meeting a female. You never know.”