The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

they saw or too angry, he would never learn. Captain Zadin turned to his men.
'Gas!' He'd planned this part in advance. The four men with gas guns were all
religious men. They leveled their weapons and fired simultaneously into the
crowd. The gas projectiles were dangerous and it was remarkable that no one was
injured by them. In a few seconds, gray clouds of tear gas bloomed within the
mass of sitting Arabs. But on command, each of them donned a mask to protect
himself from it. This impeded their singing, but not their clapping or
resolution, and it only enraged Captain Zadin further when the easterly wind
blew the gas towards his men and away from the Arabs. Next, men with insulated
gloves lifted the hot projectiles and threw them back towards the police. In a
minute, they were able to remove their masks, and there was laughter in their
singing now.
Next, Zadin ordered the rubber bullets launched. He had six men armed with these
weapons, and from a range of fifty meters they could force any man to run for
cover. The first volley was perfect, hitting six of the Arabs in the front line.
Two cried out in pain. One collapsed, but not one man moved from his place
except to succor the injured. The next volley was aimed at heads not chests, and
Zadin had the satisfaction of seeing a face explode in a puff of red.
The leader – Zadin recognized the face from earlier encounters – stood and gave
a command the Israeli captain could not hear. But its significance became clear
immediately. The singing became louder. Another volley of rubber bullets
followed. One of his marksmen was very angry, the police commander saw. The Arab
who'd taken one fully in the face now took another in the top of his head, and
with it his body went limp in death. It should have warned Benny that he had
already lost control of his men, but worse still was that he was losing control
of himself.
Hashimi did not see the death of his comrade. The passion of the moment was
overwhelming. The consternation on the faces of the two invading rabbis was
manifest. He could not see the faces of the police behind their masks, but their
actions, their movements, made their feelings clear. In a brilliant moment of
clarity, he knew that he was winning, and he shouted again to his people to
redouble their efforts. This they did in the face of fire and death.
Captain Benjamin Zadin stripped off his helmet and walked forcefully towards the
Arabs, past the rabbis who had suddenly been struck with incomprehensible
indecision. Would the Will of God be upset by the discordant singing of some
dirty savages?
'Uh-oh,' Pete Franks observed, his eyes streaming from the gas that had blown
over his face.
'I got it,' the cameraman said without bidding, zooming his lens in on the
advancing Israeli police commander. 'Something is going to happen – this guy
looks pissed, Pete!'
Oh, God, Franks thought. Himself a Jew, himself strangely at home in this barren
but beloved land, he knew that history was occurring before his eyes yet again,
was already composing his two or three minutes of verbal reporting that would
overlay the tape his cameraman was recording for posterity, and was wondering if
another Emmy might be in his future for doing his tough and dangerous job
supremely well.