Damascus Countdown
“I need to speak with you immediately,” Defense Minister Shimon said when the PM came on the line.
“Of course, Levi; what is it?”
“No, not over the phone. I need to meet with you in person—you and Zvi,” Shimon said, referring to Mossad chief Zvi Dayan.
“Then come,” Naphtali said. “Is it about Dimona?”
“No.”
“Then what?” Naphtali insisted.
The defense minister hesitated for a moment before saying, “It’s about the Twelfth Imam. That’s all I can say.”
“Then come quickly,” the PM said. “And be safe.”
“Thank you, sir. We’ll do our best.”
TABRIZ, IRAN General Mohsen Jazini stood in the shadows in the corner of the garage, lighting up a Cuban cigar and watching the proceedings with great interest. Jazini said nothing, but Jalal Zandi had no doubt the general was monitoring his every move. Zandi could have done without the open flame as they were topping off the gas tanks of both ambulances and loading in the two large wooden crates, one into the back of each vehicle.
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