62

The men scrambled to the roofs of the buildings.

They all had to see the inferno for themselves.

As they did, al-Masri began to recalculate. He had planned to stay here for at least two more days or until he received instructions from Kairos. No one could have known or suspected they were there. He had personally stocked the camp and stocked it well. The men had food, water, medical supplies, and plenty of ammo. What they did not have was any way to communicate with the rest of Lebanon or the world beyond.

But the bombings changed everything. The Zionists were getting too close. Their drones and satellites would start doing damage assessments of the fuel depot in the hours ahead. If they widened their search, there was a real possibility someone’s eye would be drawn to this supposedly abandoned Hezbollah camp. Al-Masri had ordered his men not to light fires or even use flashlights outdoors. Nothing to signal to the prying eyes of the world’s intelligence communities that the camp was once again active. So far, he was confident they had followed his orders. But they still needed to move.

“Get down,” he shouted. “Everyone down—off the roofs.”

Al-Masri was the first to climb back down to the ground. The others quickly followed. He gathered them in the courtyard, under the camouflage netting.

“Men, it’s time—we’re going to Beirut,” he told them. “Ali—you, Daoud, and Ismail will take the truck. Zayan and I will take the car. We will divide up the prisoners between us. Abdel, you are in charge of the remaining team. You will stay here and load up the vans with the rest of our equipment, ammo, and supplies. Wipe everything down. Make certain we have left no trace that we have ever been here. And wait until I call you and tell you it is safe to begin traveling. Am I clear?”

Al-Masri then surprised the young fighter by pulling from his pocket the man’s mobile phone.

“You must make no calls nor take any except mine,” the Egyptian instructed. “In fact, Abdel, I want you to put it in your pocket. Don’t even take it out—for any reason—until you hear my ringtone. You must resist all temptation. Our lives depend upon it. Do you understand?”

The young man nodded.

“Do I have your word, Abdel?”

“You do indeed, Colonel.”

Al-Masri stared him in the eye as everyone else looked on. Then he handed the young man the phone and watched as he shoved it into his pocket. The young man smiled, evidently proud that he had been entrusted with a position of leadership. He had no idea that the phone had no SIM card in it and thus could neither send nor receive any calls or text messages.

Al-Masri now lowered his voice and motioned his men to come in closer.

“Men, you have all performed with great courage and skill, and I am proud to call you jihadists. But make no mistake. You must not lower your guard now. The Zionists are invading our beloved Lebanon from the south. And we will face other threats as we move north. Our mission is to deliver these prisoners safely to Sheikh al-Hussaini. When we do, as I promised from the beginning, each of you will earn a significant cash reward. Very significant. Unfortunately, all of our brothers in arms throughout the country know that three Americans have been captured. Most of them are honest men and loyal to the Sheikh and would do everything in their power to assist in getting these prisoners to him without delay. But there are no doubt some who would wish us ill. They would not hesitate to strip the Americans from us and claim the credit and the reward for themselves. So we must be on our guard. Until we reach the Sheikh, we must take special precautions not to let anyone know that we are transporting the Americans. We must not even let anyone know that we are fighters with Hezbollah, much less part of the Radwan Unit. Our movement northward toward the capital would draw too much suspicion and put our mission and even our lives in jeopardy. No uniforms. Casual clothes only. Nothing flashy. Nothing that stands out. Personal IDs only. Destroy anything else. And no heavy weapons. You’ll get what you need in Beirut. Handguns only, for personal protection. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they replied, snapping to attention and saluting their leader.

“Good. Now get the vehicles and make the prisoners ready to move. Zayan, we’re leaving in ten minutes.”