Abu Salah could not believe what he was hearing.
He stood nervously at the end of a long conference table. He was not asked to take a seat. Sitting at the other end looking up at him menacingly was Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, the much-feared secretary general of Hezbollah. His deputy, Sheikh Naim Qassem, and two other Hezbollah officials that Abu Salah did not recognize flanked Nasrallah. Another man, dressed in a brown, western-style business suit, sporting a scruffy, salt-and-pepper beard, rounded out the table. Abu Salah guessed the latter individual was Iranian, although he was not introduced.
Nasrallah, dressed elegantly in a black turban and a dark gray robe, gazed over steel-rimmed glasses with an icy stare. “How could you let this happen? It is you who leaked the information. You are either in league with the Americans or incredibly stupid. Which is it?”
Abu Salah’s knees shook. He wanted to sit or at least put his big hands on the table, but he did not dare. He did not understand what was happening. He sputtered, “I . . . I don’t know . . . I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Of course you didn’t,” said Qassem. He spoke softly, although his dark, piercing eyes belied his mild tone. His well-manicured, white beard trembled as he spoke. “You have simply been careless. Think back. To whom did you reveal your mission?”
“I would never . . . I never told anyone. I have been loyal for more than forty years. I . . .”
“Enough,” said Nasrallah. “We believe you. You have proven your loyalty countless times. Nevertheless, the information came from you. You were the leak. Of that I am certain.”
Qassem leaned back in his chair and fixed Abu Salah with a steely gaze. “There have been two related incidents. The first occurred a few days ago when we moved the hostage to the new location.”
“Yes, sir, the move went well. We were not followed. No one saw us . . .”
“Shut up and listen.” Qassem looked over at Nasrallah, who nodded. He continued, “Someone tried to rescue the American spy shortly after you moved her to the new location. We found the lock on the front door shot out. The apartment where we held the hostage was breached in the same manner. The entry occurred sometime between when you moved the CIA spy and when the char force arrived to clean the apartment the next morning.”
Abu Salah’s eyes grew wide. He started to speak but Qassem cut him off. “Your tradecraft was sloppy. We trusted you, but somehow the Americans learned of the location and attempted a rescue. It was your responsibility to ensure this never happened. Do you accept the responsibility, Abu Salah?”
Abu Salah nodded. “Yes, sir. I accept responsibility. It was my fault. I just don’t know how . . .”
Nasrallah said, “Of course you don’t. But it does not stop there. There is more.”
The trembling in Abu Salah’s knees increased to the point where he feared he would fall, and he felt a mounting urge to urinate. “More?”
“Much more,” said Nasrallah. He glanced over at Qassem and waved for him to continue.
“You were brought into our plans to ambush the U.S. ambassador’s motorcade, were you not?”
Abu Salah nodded. His head dropped to his chest and he shut his eyes.
Qassem said, “Look at me.” Abu Salah looked up and Qassem locked onto his eyes. After a long moment he continued, “We were notified this morning by our Syrian friends that the Americans filed an official protest against the Syrian government. They discovered our plans to ambush the motorcade near Aanjar. How do you think they learned about this?”
Head on his chest, Abu Salah shook his head in disbelief. He began to shudder. He could not speak.
“Do you know what I think?” said Qassem. “I think the same source who told the Americans about the location of the hostage told them about our ambush plans. And I think that source obtained the information directly from you, Abu Salah.”
Abu Salah’s head spun. He was certain he had told no one. Perhaps CIA surveillance had picked up the location. That was a distinct possibility. He had taken great care to avoid surveillance, but you never know.
The ambush was another matter. He searched his memory. He had learned about the plans through a phone call with Abu Umar, Hezbollah’s chief of operations. The call occurred just a few days ago. They had not spoken about it since, and he had not mentioned it to anyone. He was going to attend a planning session tomorrow evening.
He was explaining this to Nasrallah and Qassem when it dawned on him. He stopped mid-sentence and stood there, mouth open and eyes wide.
“What is it?” asked Nasrallah.
He shook his large head. “It’s . . . the only time I ever discussed the ambush was during that brief telephone conversation with Abu Umar. It was in the late afternoon and we had just delivered the hostage to the new location. I was walking from the house to my car when Abu Umar called. I was very excited about being asked to join the ambush team. During the conversation, I looked up and there was Walid, my driver. He looked surprised. He had overheard my end of the conversation. I immediately lowered my voice and turned away, but . . .”
Nasrallah and Qassem exchanged glances. “What did Walid overhear? What did you say?” asked Nasrallah.
“I . . . I cannot recall exactly. We talked about the ambush location and the U.S. ambassador and his motorcade. I do not know exactly what I said but that is what I discussed with Abu Umar. Walid heard whatever I said. I am certain of it. I am so sorry. So very sorry . . .”
Qassem leaned over and whispered into Nasrallah’s ear. Nasrallah nodded. The others sat there in silence, deferring totally to the Hezbollah leaders. The Iranian glared menacingly at Abu Salah.
Nasrallah removed his steel-rimmed glasses, cleaned them with the sleeve of his robe, and set them back on his rather large nose. He looked up at Abu Salah and said thoughtfully, “Then you have a problem, Abu Salah. And I suggest you take care of it swiftly. I also suggest you get the hostage to a new location as fast as you can. If your driver is the Americans’ source, and I believe you when you say he probably is, everything we have done with the hostage up until now has been compromised. Do you understand what I am saying?”
Abu Salah bowed deeply, “I do, sir. I understand completely.”
“Then get out of here and take care of it. You have no time to waste.”