He turned around.
"How am I supposed to send troops? Who do I send? With what are we supposed to fight?"
The Chief of Staff lowered his head.
"Those Squid Men…"
The President looked at him.
"They started this themselves; they can deal with it themselves."
Prime Minister's Office, Jerusalem
Shamir stood by the window, looking at the outline of Temple Mount in the distance.
Outside the window, the city was still asleep. Those ancient stones, those narrow streets, those candles that had burned for two thousand years without ever going out—they did not know that War had already reached their doorstep.
The door was pushed open.
Moses walked in.
"Shamir, the Mexican Fleet will arrive in thirty hours."
Shamir did not turn back.
"What about the Golan Heights?"
Moses fell silent for a second.
"The 7th Armored Brigade has fought itself out. Ben Abraham is still alive, still fighting. But the Syrians have already broken through the third defensive line."
Shamir closed his eyes.
