9

Every murder required three elements: motive, means, and opportunity.

Kidron believed al-Hussaini’s motive was clear. The crazed leader of Hezbollah was determined not simply to murder Israelis but to massacre them, not simply attack the world’s only Jewish state but annihilate it.

That certainly made it all the more understandable why he was working so hard to build up the means to accomplish this nefarious mission. On the new leader’s watch, Hezbollah had embarked on an unrestrained spending spree. They had assembled a massive arsenal of the most powerful, precise, and lethal short- and medium-range missiles the Iranians had ever developed. These were not unguided, homemade Qassam rockets like those Hamas fired from Gaza. These were far larger. These had guidance systems. They could do serious damage, inflict horrific casualties.

The Mossad estimated the total Hezbollah arsenal was upwards of 150,000 to 200,000 missiles. They were hidden in mosques. Hospitals. Schools. Barns. Warehouses. Even private homes. All aimed at Israeli population centers. There was no way to shoot down all the missiles, no matter how sophisticated Israel’s air-defense system. Nor was it possible to take out the missiles and their launchers by superior airpower alone. Kidron and his colleagues had been war-gaming this scenario for years. They had concluded, however reluctantly, that a Third Lebanon War would require a full-scale ground invasion of Lebanon by thousands of tanks and APCs and tens of thousands of Israeli soldiers.

It had, therefore, become bedrock IDF doctrine to do everything possible to prevent such a war—to prevent giving Hezbollah the opportunity to pull Israel into a war. Even a limited IDF incursion into Lebanese territory could rapidly escalate. That, in turn, could severely damage Israel’s economy, which was heavily dependent on exports. What was more, such an escalation ran the risk of seriously undermining—or at least significantly straining—ties with Washington, Israel’s closest ally, and it also could scuttle any prospect of a peace deal with the Saudis.

All this was surging through Kidron’s mind as he heard the commander of his quick reaction force practically yelling into his secure radio channel, “Sir, what do you want to do?”

Kidron forced himself to focus. He could not afford to think about what might happen. He had to remain intent on what was happening right then. There was no time to thoroughly process all the data. He was dealing with incomplete and possibly inaccurate information. But he had to decide right then and there what to do next. Whatever he decided—right or wrong—his entire career would be judged on the next words out of his mouth.

The clock was ticking, after all.

He did not have the luxury of waiting for a decision from the IDF chief of staff, much less the minister of defense or the PM. There was no time for briefings and deliberations. Every second that ticked by meant two Americans and an Israeli were being dragged deeper into Lebanese territory. This was his responsibility and his alone, Kidron told himself. It was his job to end this nightmare and end it fast, come what may.

“Sir, hello, are you there?” came the voice again over the encrypted radio.

Kidron glanced at the clock on the far wall of the war room. It was 9:41.

“We have no choice,” he finally replied. “Initiate the Hannibal Protocol.”