QuagmireNoting the way the visitor from Tehran admired Masra’s movements around the low table, Ibrahim sat silently and let the woman complete her task. When the coffee had been poured and a bowl of fresh fruit placed in easy reach, he opened the meeting. “We welcome our brother Wafic,” he said when Masra was out of sight. “We have been looking forward to your arrival.”
Wafic acknowledged the greeting, replaced his coffee cup and eyed the faces around the table staring at him in anticipation. These men would be his cohorts in the coming operation and he was trying to decide just how much he needed to tell them. Ibrahim and the explosives man he knew from the beach. The youngest of the Hezbollah brain-trust in Beirut had been introduced as Eladar, a cabdriver who ran the cell’s intelligenc
