There were no cars in the winding streets of this southern Lebanese village. Not many people, either. The signs of life were the buzz of Israeli surveillance drones overhead and, below, a gaggle of Hezbollah loyalists, sitting in a small storefront along an abandoned street. There was a walkie-talkie, bottles of water and, according to the half-dozen or so men, patience. “We are waiting,” said Jamal Nasser, a burly man in civilian clothes. “We are here, and we’re not going anywhere.” Full Story