The Jerusalem Gambit

by Jack Leman

  He did not share his plan with Fuad yet. During his talk with him this morning while they were laying by the truck waiting for the gunfire to end, he had said he did not approve of the attack and Ghassan had concluded Fuad wouldn’t object to foil the attack. He told him he would try to abort the flight if he had the possibility, but he didn’t know when and how he would get the opportunity. Now the three of them were in the cabin, and it looked like Abu Amr wanted to witness the launching from inside the cabin. His plan began to take shape. He had to get rid of Abu Amr without attracting the attention of his men. It was a desperate attempt, but he would try it.

  61- Sunday 1:50 pm

  PIJ

  Gaza

  Abu Dawan was on a motorbike speeding away from Gaza. The Yamaha MT-09, 4 stroke 900cc engine was a present from Ridwan Maloof. The dandy car dealer had probably stolen it in Israel and delivered it to his boys who smuggled it from a tunnel into Gaza; not that the Israeli police would dare come to Gaza to check its plate number! The motorbike was the fastest way to circulate in the traffic-clogged streets of Gaza, especially when you were in a hurry to disappear from one place. He liked the black and gun-gray design of the bike and loved its might when he revved it.

  His plan was to use one of the new tunnels in Rafah to cross to Egypt. Once in Egypt, he would be safe. He was not afraid of the Egyptian secret services; if he was caught, he counted on his friends from the Muslim Brotherhood to get him out of the hands of the Egyptian authorities. He looked at his watch. 10 minutes left for the big gambit. He chuckled as he imagined the now depleted Iron Dome batteries. Since they had fired volley after volley of rockets to take down those missiles fired from Gaza, he knew resupplying the batteries would take at least an hour. And that was too late! What worried him though, was he didn’t get the phone call he was expecting from Tel Aviv announcing at least one or two explosions. He had invested a lot of American dollars and lots of resources to make that happen. It would be a shame if they had missed their target. But that was the gambit. The big surprise was to come sooner rather than later.

  He slowed down his motorbike as he approached a tiny village. All the inhabitants were out on the streets looking at the sky for Israeli aircrafts or helicopters. They looked towards Gaza city from where most of the rockets had been fired. They were not afraid to remain in the open air and become a target for the Israelis because they knew they were not a worthy target; the Israeli’s anger would be funneled to more strategic targets. The villagers didn’t know yet whether to rejoice or to mourn, but realized they had just witnessed a power show from one of the armed groups operating on the strip. In a few hours, the situation would be clearer, and they would know about the victory of the PIJ.

  Abu Dawan looked back and saw the three motorcycles following him in the distance slow down at the entrance of the village. He felt secure knowing his three bodyguards were following him and keeping a safety distance in case some helicopter started shooting at them. That’s what the bodyguards said, but the truth was their motorbikes did not match his, and he enjoyed taking risks when he drove.

  He honked and made his way through the crowd and as soon as he was out of the village, gained speed. He wanted to be out of Gaza when the Fateh was launched from Al-Kisweh, but at this speed he was not sure he would make it in time.

  He thought of Ridwan, the fool. He was burned for good and had better be out of Israel when the missile was fired. When the missile came in proximity of the Knesset, its navigation system would pick up the signal from the beacon hidden in his Mercedes. The car should be parked by now in the garage, just under the dais where the President of the Zionist state would deliver his speech. Abu Dawan grinned and hoped that, along with the president, they would decapitate all Israeli institutions, and maybe obliterate the Zionist state as well, why not?

  62- Sunday 1:57 pm

  Ras al-Ayn

  30km West of Damascus

  Rashida and Sahab had anxiously listened to the shouts and machine gun fire coming from the street. They were expecting the PIJ troops to storm their courtyard any minute now. But, after the muezzin’s call for prayers about half an hour ago, a heavy silence fell over the village. It only increased the tension, and they felt like condemned people waiting to hear the footsteps of their hangman.

  Suddenly, there was an announcement on the loudspeaker of the mosque. After the noises due to tapping the microphone to make sure it worked, the voice of the muezzin was heard in the village.

  “Inhabitants of Ras al-Ayn, our guardians left the village ten minutes ago. They are going back to Lebanon. I repeat, our guardians left the village unattended.”

  Here and there they could hear voices of neighbors wishing them a nice trip to hell.

  Rashida was quick to realize that if they had effectively left, they didn’t have leverage on her husband anymore; the situation had changed. She got up and ran through the courtyard with Sahab yelling after her.

  “Come here, you crazy girl! Don’t go out! It could be a trick!”

  But Rashida didn’t hear his supplications and continued to run to the warehouse. The door banged open and she rushed to the containers and squeezed against the wall. She grabbed the phone and dialed Ghassan’s mobile number. She waited impatiently for the call to go through, but the lines were too busy. She tried again.

  63- Sunday 2:00 pm

  Al-Kisweh

  Tal and Doron saw the plumes of exhaust fumes of the missile at the same time.

  “They are launching!” both shouted into their cell phones.

  Tal pressed the button of the laser target designator, aimed at the missile, and contacted the aircraft.

  “Eagle One, they are launching the missile! Target acquired, confirm!”

  “Maglan, target visible and locked,” came the languid voice of the pilot.

  “Missile out, time to target 10 seconds. Maglan, keep the target illuminated.”

  Tal got up and was now an open target. He just hoped the soldiers below would be mesmerized by the missile and keep their eyes locked on it. Ten seconds was not a long time, but it seemed like a lifetime to Tal. He was watching the Fateh rise in the sky and gain speed when his vision was obstructed by the ceiling. He had lost the target. He didn’t see the incoming missiles of the F-35s, but he saw four contrails swinging first left than to the right and cross the path of the rising missile. They had missed it. A miss! As the Fateh-313 continued to rise, he saw four explosions when the missiles shot by the aircrafts auto-destroyed themselves.

  Tal threw himself on the floor and felt again the safety of the cement under his body, but he was angry with himself for having lost the target at the last moment. The Fateh flew just over the ceiling of the building, obstructing the view and cutting off his targeting laser beam.

  Doron and Zadok were looking at the scene with their mouths open.

  “Maglan One to Eagle One, it’s a miss, I repeat, it’s a miss.”

  He then changed the frequency to contact the Mossad HQ

  “HQ, this is Maglan One. The shots from the aircrafts missed. The Syrian missile is rising in the sky. What are the instructions?”

  “Maglan One, what is the situation down there?”

  Tal took out his binoculars and scanned the area. The exhaust smoke was already clearing and the lookouts of the basement were looking up to the sky with their hands shielding their eyes. The doors of the truck were open; two PIJ soldiers were hanging out, looking up to the sky. The other two were still in the cabin. He saw a soldier in the truck's cab pull out a handgun and shoot the PIJ soldier who was busy looking up to the sky. Nobody heard or reacted to his shot because the roar of the missile had deafened everybody. He pulled the body in the truck and closed the door. Outside, everybody was looking skyward.

  He turned his binoculars to the Syrian and Hezbollah troops surrounding the basement, and he saw they were all looking up as well.

  “Doron, can you see what the guys are doing in the truck’s cabin?”

 
Doron pointed his sniper rifle with its laser range finder on the cabin.

  “Yes, there are two people. They put a body in the back of the cabin. They are discussing, and one of them is fumbling with something on the dashboard.”

  “Those must be the two responsible for the launch. Can you take them out?”

  “Yes, I have clear shots.”

  “HQ, we need your authorization to take out the militiamen responsible for the launching.”

  “Maglan, take the soldiers out and get out of there immediately and head to the extraction zone.”

  “Ok Doron, do it.” Said Tal.

  He heard two muffled shots, and he saw two holes appear on the windshield and blood splash the inside of the cabin. They had taken out the two operators responsible for the launch of the Fateh.

  “Ok guys, hurry, we are moving out.”

  64- Sunday 2:00 pm

  Plenary Hall, Knesset

  Jerusalem

  The plenary hall was almost full. People still entered and were looking for their seats. The President of the State of Israel, Simon Berkovitz, looked around him with a satisfied look. He had worked hard for this day; he had bent the arms of all the party chiefs yet made them all feel they did an impressive job negotiating with the Blue and White party of Benny Gantz, and that they deserved to be in the government. He despised most of these politicians. They were prisoners of their small ideas; none had the wisdom to think for the benefit of the entire country; they were small calculators, not visionaries. But that was the system, and what he thought was his own achievement satisfied him. He looked around and saw everybody was cheerful and smiling, even the members of the opposition. The months of incertitude were finished; now they had a new government with a working majority.

  The outgoing government sat in the front row of seats, the rows behind were full with the newly elected Members of the Knesset, some he already knew, some he still had to meet. The balconies were full with families and guests of the members. A red rope separated the right side of the balcony from the public to accommodate the high-ranking civil servants, like the Chief of Staff and Israel Defense Forces staff, the non-elected Vice-Ministers, and the Chief of the Intelligence communities. At the first row of the balcony sat the guest of honor, the American Ambassador to Israel. Behind him were the Ambassadors of other friendly countries.

  The President looked at his notes for a last time and walked to the podium when the assembly erupted in applauses. He felt someone pulling at his arm. It was his Security Chief, Oren. He leaned over and whispered in his ear.

  “Mr. President, there has been a rogue missile launch from Syria. The Knesset is in its range. Please interrupt the assembly and let’s go to the shelter in the basement.”

  The President looked at him straight in his eyes and with his smile frozen on his face said in an icy tone:

  “Are you crazy, Oren? You know that we never bow in front of terrorism! We have defense forces, and secret services to protect us. Let them do their job. I have full confidence in them.”

  The President gave his million-dollar-smile in answer to the applauses and advanced slowly to the dais. He saluted left and right and was clearly enjoying himself. From the corner of his eyes he saw the Chief of Staff Itzhak Klein and the Mossad Director Tamir get up and leave the balcony in a hurry.

  “Yes,” he thought, “do your jobs!”

  He took his place at the podium, looked right at the President of the Supreme Court, then up at the American Ambassador, shuffled his notes, and started:

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the Supreme Court…”

  ————

  Sunday 2:02 pm

  Parking lot

  Salim was enjoying the Mercedes. He had finally mastered the music system and tuned to Radio Amman, which was broadcasting old recordings of Umm Khalsoum. The voice over the radio was crystal clear. It was amazing. He did not regret missing the swearing-in ceremony after all, and he thought it was well worth the acrimonies of his wife and daughter he would have to endure later. He much preferred to play with the Mercedes. He saw a young soldier with a dog come towards his car. It was the same soldier who had inspected their car at the entrance. He was smoking a cigarette and was probably off duty. From his backpack, he pulled out a bottle of water and a bowl. The dog was wagging its tail. He filled the bowl and let the dog lap it thirstily. Then he rested on a parked car and enjoyed his cigarette and the sun.

  Salim and the soldier were the only ones enjoying the deserted parking lot.

  Salim decided to drive a bit and started the engine. He would tour the parking lot as if he was looking for an open place to park until Nashwa finished her ceremony. He drove the car away from the Knesset and turned left at the end of the parking lot to finish his tour and then start another one.

  ————

  Sunday 2:04 pm

  Underground shelter of the Knesset

  The commander of the Israeli Air Defense roared into his phone. The Chief of Staff Klein, who was next to him, thought if he continued shouting like that, the people assembled for the ceremony upstairs would hear him.

  “What do you mean it missed?”

  Klein put his hand on the shoulder of Air Defense Chief and made him a sign to cover his phone.

  “Aaron, don’t lose time, make sure the Baraks and the David’s Sling are on automatic mode.”

  The Air Defense Chief covered his phone and answered,

  “We have already launched two Barak 8s, they are on their way to intercept the missile. Three Stunner missiles from David’s Sling will launch in a minute, just in case the Baraks miss.”

  The last word the Chief of Staff wanted to hear was the word miss.

  “So, when at the latest will we know if we have destroyed it?”

  “In four minutes. The last resort will be the Iron Dome, but we have a problem. The batteries south of Jerusalem and east of Tel Aviv are depleted because they were used to intercepting the rockets fired from Gaza. At the moment, we don’t have enough rockets to make an effective barrage. The batteries are reloading now. I hope they will be operational in time.”

  The Chief of Staff realized his wife was in the assembly hall’s balcony. He tried to phone her, but as he knew, she would have switched off her phone when entering the hall. So instead of his wife, he called his office and asked to talk to the officer on duty. While he was waiting to be put through, he listened to the Mossad director Tamir, who had his own issues talking on his cell phone.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? I want them out of that place immediately! Now! Do you understand?”

  65-Sunday 2:04 pm

  Israel Air Intelligence Group (IAIG) HQ,

  Tel Aviv

  The staff worked on their monitors but couldn’t take their eyes off the large screen hanging from the ceiling in the situation room’s corner. Naama was watching the two green lines, which were the two Barak 8 high-altitude ballistic missile interceptors. In the bottom right corner of the screen, a counter showed the speed of the Baraks. It read three times the speed of the sound. They seemed on track to meet the red dot soon.

  She tried to follow the images from the UAV above Al-Kisweh on her console when the metallic voice of the missile control officer announced over the loudspeaker.

  “Incoming missile started its electronic countermeasures. It is sending a decoy image.”

  The incoming missile was trying to confuse the interceptor’s sensors by emitting a radar image of a decoy.

  Apparently, the computers of one of the Baraks took the bait, and went after the decoy, and exploded harmlessly. One of the green lines disappeared.

  “Barak one inoperative. Barak two in search mode.”

  Then the second green line disappeared. The red dot was continuing its trajectory.

  “Barak two inoperative.”

  Three more green lines rose from somewhere north of Tel Aviv. Three Stunner interceptors from the David’s Sling Defense Systems were launched.

/>   One of the basic tasks of the IAIG computers was to plot the trajectory of the incoming missile and forecast an impact point. As soon as it calculated the impact point, the system triggered the local alarm system. Naama saw with anger that the trajectory of the missile was pointing to Jerusalem. The screen now showed the entire trajectory, from its launching point to its target point. The computers recalculated the data each second, and the impact point was adjusted accordingly. The last estimation was the Knesset compound in Jerusalem. This was absolutely shocking. It was the first time a missile was launched at the holy city.

  The green lines converged towards the red dot advancing on the red line. It was already at two-thirds of its trajectory. There was not much time left before impact.

  66- Sunday 2:06 pm

  PIJ Tunnel

  Gaza

  Abu Dawan was soaked in sweat. The stale air of the tunnel and the anguish of hitting his head in the low ceiling was enough to give anyone normal a claustrophobia attack. There were tiny light-bulbs every 20 meters, but it was not enough to give a clear view of the tunnel. Abu Dawan was concentrating on the back of the militiaman walking in front of him. Three more guards were following. He tried to listen through the noise of the steps echoing on the walls to understand if anybody was coming from the other side of the tunnel. The Zionists had recently made an agreement with the Egyptians, who had joyfully agreed that Israeli commando units would clean out and destroy the tunnels discovered under the Egyptian border.

  He was so disoriented that his mind played tricks on him. He was getting too old for such stressful operations. The thought of retiring had crossed his mind many times, but he knew it wouldn’t be possible. He couldn’t live with the fear that every morning when he got out of his bed, he would think the Zionist assassination teams had found him. He had to continue the combat until he met his fate.