The Moses Stone

70

Levi Barak looked with some satisfaction at the notes he'd scribbled during his exchanges on the radio with his various teams of watchers. Both groups of suspects seemed to be heading for exactly the same place in northern Israel. Bronson and Lewis were in the lead, having just reached the outskirts of Haifa after a brief stop in the city.

'Bronson's just turned south-east,' one of the surveillance officers said, his voice crackling over the loudspeaker. 'He's taken the road towards Afula, or maybe he's heading for Nazareth.'

'Keep watching,' Barak ordered, 'and make sure they don't see you. I don't want them spooked now. I'll join you shortly.'

'You're coming up here?' The man sounded surprised.

'Yes. Let me know the moment they stop again, even if it's just for a meal or a drink.'

'Understood.'

Barak leant back from the radio microphone and picked up the internal telephone. 'This is Barak,' he said. 'I want you to get me the number of the direct line for the commanding officer of the Sayeret Matkal. And when you've done that, I want a military helicopter on standby here within thirty minutes, fully fuelled, with two pilots. If possible, get me one that's equipped with a Forward- Looking Infra-Red scanner and a night-vision camera.' He glanced at his watch, then looked out through the window, calculating times and distances. 'And make sure it's here on time. The end-game is near.'