He stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the people holding the photos were still there. But their faces had changed. They were not angry, not afraid, but calm. That kind of calm, like the winter waters of Lake Tiberias, frozen, with water beneath the ice, but the water no longer flowed. They stood there, holding their photos, looking at the windows of the Presidential Palace, not speaking, not shouting, not crying, not smiling. Just standing there, like a group of people who had stepped out of a photograph.
The Minister of Defense stood behind him, his voice already hoarse and barely audible. "Mr. President, the Republican Guard... the 4th Armored Division... the 6th Division... the 8th Brigade... they... they are not answering the phone."
Assad did not turn around. "And the Big Bear people?"
"They are still in Tartus. Korosov said... he said..."
"Said what?"
The Minister of Defense's voice lowered further. "He said, 'President Assad, you have to handle it yourself.'"
