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friends, nor ascertain who the new friends were. Regarding the brothers, the source believes the new friends and the brothers are one and the same.

Tamir exhaled. He reread the dispatch twice and paused to contemplate it. He then printed it out and went into Moti’s office. Moti was on the phone. He gestured to Tamir to come in. He sounded upset, complaining into the receiver that there’s only so much that they can drop on the department. He slammed the receiver down in anger. You’re lucky you’re not an officer, he said to Tamir.

Why?

Because they’re dropping an investigative-officer on us again. There are some irregularities in the quartermaster inventory lists. This entire army is rotten at the core, and yet they choose to saddle us with these inquiries, even though we have important intelligence work to do. Can’t they see that?

Tamir stood in silence.

What do you have for me?

He handed Moti the dispatch.

Looks like serious business, Moti mumbled. What do we know about this source?

It’s new. First time I’ve come across it.

And what do you make of it?

I think… I’m not sure, but I think that it might know more than it’s telling them.

What makes you say that?

Like I said, I’m not sure…

And yet?

Well, first of all, I think the instruction they’re talking about could be related to the dispatch from the Saudi embassy in Paris.

Yes…

If that’s the case, then the new friends they’re talking about are the Iranians.

Uh huh…

Now, it’s possible that he’d call them new friends the first time and brothers the other, and if that’s the case, then the source would be right.

But…

But that doesn’t sound very plausible. It makes much more sense that they’re referring to two different things. That’s usually the case in their conversations. Every codename refers to something else. I find it hard to believe that the source wouldn’t know that, unless it’s not a member of the Front. But if it’s not from the Front, how would it have heard Jihad’s call?

Oh, well, there are all sort of possibilities…

Right. It doesn’t have to be from the Front. But my intuition says it is.

Uh huh.

Tamir paused. Moti fixed his watery eyes on him and seemed helpless for a moment. So, who are the brothers? he asked.

There are a couple of options, but I have a hunch. It’s pretty speculative.

Speculative? Moti chewed on the word as he uttered it as if it were an odious stick of gum.

Yes.

Okay, let’s hear it.

My hunch is that the brothers are in fact brothers, meaning Jibril’s two sons, Jihad and Khaled.

Jihad is the commander of the airborne unit, Moti demonstrated his proficiency.

Right.

And… Remind me, what does Khaled do?

He’s the commander of the seaborne unit.

You’re kidding me…

Don’t forget, two days ago Kidonit intercepted a dispatch about speedboat engines crossing the border. We can’t say for certain that they are intended for the Front’s seaborne unit, but if my hunch is correct…

Moti bit his bottom lip. He absentmindedly reached his hand to his short collar, his fingers lightly stroking his platoon-commander pin. He squirmed in his chair, which looked much more comfortable than Tamir’s. So, you think we’re looking at a collaboration between the Front’s airborne and seaborne units?

It’s possible, Tamir made sure to express caution. If that’s the case, then it’s something we’ve never seen before. Obviously, it could only be a training exercise, but if we connect it to the Saudi dispatch…

I see. Well, it’s still…

Speculative.

Yes. He squirmed in his chair again. Okay, I’ll put my ass on the line and make some calls. People have probably noticed this dispatch by now… Now, let me tell you how what’s going to happen. I know it well by now. Soon, within the next couple of days, there’ll be a meeting held at GHQ. An assessment meeting. I’m telling you in advance, you’re coming with me. So, talk to the bases, talk to anyone you need to, just do whatever you can to make your evaluation less…

Speculative.

Yes.

Tamir went back to his office. He spoke with Harel at Kidonit and Neta in Efroni, but didn’t learn anything he hadn’t already known. He instructed them to keep their ears open for any unusual activity by the Front, as well as by Revolutionary Guard and Hezbollah factors. He felt stupid for saying that— obviously, they were doing that anyway. That is exactly what Neta told him, to which he replied that he knows, but that he has to say it anyway. She laughed and said she’ll be coming to headquarters for a training session soon, so maybe he could show her the big city afterwards. I’m just a girl from provincial Haifa, she reminded him. He said he’d be happy to. And indeed, for a fleeting moment, he felt something approximating happiness.

He spent the rest of the day reading more dispatches, summaries, and logs, but found nothing else of substance. On the other side of the room, Ilay was busy with his humungous card cabinet, updating details. In the meantime, the sky outside grew darker, as if the glaring red lights of the antennas on the roof of the building sucked in the dying sunset light.

h. Is Something Bothering You, Binder?

Ah, there she is. She has finally appeared, flying along the Lebanese coast in an Ultralight motor-glider, turning towards the sea, nosediving down to the water which parts to greet her, formless and empty, like a primordial void; a guard-of-honor of Phoenician merchant ships decorates the mouth of the vortex; she dives deeper and deeper; the abyss slowly engulfs her, but a large fish emerges from the black waters towards her with its mouth gaping open; she directs the Ultralight’s flight towards it with expert skill. Inside the belly of the fish, Tamir is sitting there waiting. Who are you? she asks him. Me? I wanted to get away from Ronen Schwartz. I was ordered to protect Tel-Aviv, the apple of God’s eye. And you? I was ordered to kill and destroy the inhabitants of this land, she replies. Including me? Tamir asks.

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