The communication officer ran over, his face pale.
"Chief of Staff, urgent message from the Golan Heights! The Iranian vanguard has breached the Syrian northern defensive line and is advancing towards Safed! At least one armored brigade, T-72 tanks, BMP infantry fighting vehicles, and self-propelled artillery! The 36th Division is requesting reinforcements!"
Moses didn't turn around. "How many men does the 36th Division have left?"
"Less than a thousand. Ammunition only enough for a few hours."
Moses closed his eyes. "Tell them to hold on."
"Chief of Staff, do we have any reserves left?"
Moses opened his eyes.
"None. But the Iranians do. They have another brigade in the south, pushing towards Lake Tiberias. Another division is north of Damascus, waiting to flank us."
He looked at the red arrows on the screen, growing larger, and thought of Hassan, of the olive grove, of the gravestones. Names carved into the stones, and beneath the names:
