Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [91]
"Not officially," he admitted. He held his hand toward a wooden chair. "Sit down, Falah. Would you care for a cigarette?"
The Israeli frowned as he took a seat. He knew what the offering meant. Falah only used tobacco when he was among Arabs, most of whom were chain-smokers. He selected a cigarette from the case on the desk. Vilnai offered him a match. Falah hacked as the first drag went down.
"You're out of practice," the sergeant observed.
"Very. I ought to go home."
"If you'd like," Vilnai said.
Falah looked at him through the smoke. "You're too kind."
"Of course," Vilnai said, "you'll have to crawl under the barbed wire and through the minefield around the base."
"I used to do that for my daily warm-up," Falah smiled.
"I know," Vilnai said. "You were the best."
"You flatter me."
"I find it helps," Viltrai said.
Falah took another drag on the cigarette. It went down more smoothly. "The master puppeteer works his marionettes," he said.
Vilnai smiled for the first time. "Is that what I am? A master puppeteer? There is only one puppeteer, my friend." He shot a look at the white ceiling as he sat down. "And sometimes--no, most times--I feel as though Allah cannot decide whether we're performing in a tragedy, or in a comedy. All that I do know is that the play is as unpredictable as ever."
Thoughts of his own well-being evaporated as Falah regarded his former superior. "What's happened, Sergeant?"
The master sergeant splayed his fingers on his desk and looked at them. "Shortly before phoning you, I was on a conference call with Major General Bar-Levi in Haifa and an American intelligence officer, Robert Herbert of the National Crisis Management Center in Washington, D.C."
"I've heard of that group," Falah said. "Why?"
"They were part of that New Jacobin takedown in Toulouse."
"Yes," Falah said enthusiastically. "The neo-Nazi hate games on the internet. That was a beautiful piece of work."
Vilnai nodded. "Very. They're a good outfit with a superb young strike force. Only they managed to stumble down a well in Turkey. You heard about the terrorist attack on the Ataturk Dam."
"That's all they're talking about in Kiryat Shmona," he said. "That and a raw diamond old Nehemiah found in the sand at the kibbutz. It was probably dropped by a smuggler, but everyone's convinced there's a vein under the settlement."
Vilnai looked up sharply.
"Sorry," Falah said. "Please continue."
"The Americans were field-testing a new mobile intelligence facility in the region," Vilnai said. "Very sophisticated, able to access satellites and listen to every form of electronic communication. On their way back to Syria, the Ataturk terrorists--at least, the Americans believe it was the same terrorists--came upon the facility and captured it. Along with this Regional Operations Center, the Syrians were able to take its crew." Vilnai consulted his notes. "There were two strike force soldiers, a General Michael Rodgers, a technician who helped to design the mobile unit and can help the Syrians run it, two NCMC officials, and a Turkish security officer."
"As the Americans would say, a grand slam," Falah obselved. "Damascus will be celebrating tonight."
"Damascus does not appear to have been behind this," Vilnai said.
"The Kurds?"
Vilnai nodded.
"I'm not surprised," Falah said. "There have been rumblings about a new offensive for over a year now."
"I've heard those rumblings too," Vilnai admitted. "But I discounted them. most everyone did. We didn't think they could put aside their differences long enough to make any kind of effective union."
"Well, they have. And this was an impressive show for them."
"An impressive first act," Vilnai corrected. "Our American friend Mr. Herbert believes that the van containing the equipment and his people is still in Turkey but headed toward the Bekaa Valley. A strike team has been dispatched from Washington to try and take it back."
"Ah," Falah said. "And they need a guide." He pointed to himself.
"No," Vilnai said. "What they need, Falah, is someone to find it."
*