The Supreme Leader’s Office was also his residence. It had a mosque where he sometimes presided over prayers and met with the general populace.
There was tight security around the building, given the principal resident’s standing in the country.
The Supreme Leader was the head of state, Iran’s self-appointed religious and political authority. He appointed the IRGC and Quds Forces heads, the key ministers of defense, intelligence and foreign affairs, in addition to making other critical cabinet selections. The leader made decisions on the economy, foreign policy, education, and transparency in elections. He had such vast authority that the country was often regarded as a democracy in name only.
It had a president who was elected by its citizens, however that official had to be approved by the Supreme Leader and answered to him. The president was the face of Iran in foreign country interactions, but the real power lay with the Supreme Leader.
‘Nothing so far,’ Meghan chirped in Zeb’s earpiece. He grunted in response and leaned back further, giving the impression of a man snoozing in his vehicle.
He was alert, however, scanning Azarbayejan Street through slitted eyes. Broker, next to him, was similarly observant.
The two of them, in a different disguise from that of their charity look, had a good view of a side entrance to the leader’s residence. Beth and Meghan were covering the main entrance, Bear and Chloe were at the rear while Bwana and Roger were at the Presidential Administration Building, through which there was access to the Supreme Leader’s office.
Zeb counted down the hours from the attack.
Mostofi will have received the news soon after, even if we took out comms. The soldiers would have found a way to make contact. He’ll visit the site around two or three am, when it’s deemed safe. He’ll inspect it, question the soldiers, decide how he’s going to break the news to the IRGC and to the Supreme Leader.
He figured the Quds boss would return to Central Tehran around seven or eight am once he had checked the damage in the morning light.
A shower, some refreshments, more prep and then to the Supreme Leader. Around ten or eleven am, because he won’t get an immediate appointment, unless he breaks the details over the phone. Will he do that?
No, Zeb decided. He won’t mention it over a voice call even though it’s all over social media.
It looked like Mostofi had exercised his control over the print and TV media because there was only vague coverage of the attacks on those channels. That there had been some explosions in the garrison and they were being investigated.
‘Levin’s acted quickly,’ Broker stirred beside him without taking eyes off the street.
‘Yeah, Meg showed me some of the posts.’ The Mossad Director had stuck to his word. Several online news channels and reporters claimed that Mossad had pulled off a daring attack on the garrison. The internet did the rest of the job. It sucked in that information and distributed it all over the world. The Israeli government put out a bland statement that it had no involvement in whatever had gone down in Iran. No one believed it.
‘There’s no mention of missiles.’
‘Levin’s kept that out otherwise Iran could take that as an act of war.’
‘Makes sense. Otherwise, its generals would have gone on TV threatening fire and vengeance.’
‘You think Mostofi will make it public? About the Javelins?’
Broker shook his head after mulling over it. ‘No. He’ll tell the Supreme Leader for sure, because that man has got his own intelligence network. But there will be no official admission by anyone. It will portray them as weak.’
‘That’s how I see it too,’ Zeb agreed. He stifled a yawn and sat up straight when his earpiece squawked.
Beth. ‘See that SUV turning inside the leader’s office?’
‘Yeah.’
‘That’s Mostofi. We saw him when he drove past.’