Safed, Ben-Gurion Avenue, 4:17 AM.
Colonel Salam's legs were no longer listening to him.
Shrapnel had sliced into his left calf, gouged out from beside the tibia, leaving a palm-length tear with flesh flipped open, exposing the white bone inside.
He wrapped his leg twice with a bandage, tying it tightly, but the blood seeped out, dripping down his pant leg and into the ground, mingling with the shattered glass and spent shell casings.
"Colonel, to the south! Israeli reinforcements are coming over from the Jerusalem direction!" The adjutant pointed south, his voice trembling, his fingers shaking.
Salam raised his binoculars.
On the southern road, the headlights looked like a stream of flowing fireflies.
Merkava MK3s, at least forty of them, arrayed in twin columns, were heading towards Safed. Yuqi Special Forces Humvees followed behind, their vehicle-mounted machine guns glinting coldly in the moonlight.
"How many are there?" The adjutant's voice trembled more.
