‘What was that?’ Mostofi turned his head and watched the traffic blockade disappear in the traffic.
His ride hadn’t slowed or stopped when his protection vehicles swung out behind to block whoever was tailing them.
‘Some reporter, agha,’ his bodyguard replied, after murmuring into his earpiece. ‘He and his cameraman. They wanted to interview you.’
Mostofi puffed in pride momentarily. He was a celebrity, instantly recognizable across Iran. Journalists and the general public wanted to talk to him or just touch him. Around the world, he corrected himself. Even as he preened, they passed a billboard with a large image of him. He looked fleetingly at his handsome profile, discreetly, because it wouldn’t do to let his men know he was admiring himself.
‘We taught them a lesson,’ his man said satisfiedly. ‘They won’t trouble us again.’
‘Did anyone record them on their phones? These days, everything goes on the internet.’
‘Let them, agha. We are Quds. No one should take us lightly.’
That’s correct. Mostofi leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He recalled the meeting with the Supreme Leader. That went better than I expected. Once I told him about my plans for America, he forgot about the garrison.
Which reminded him. He roused himself and brought out his phone.
‘Jehangir,’ he ordered when Miri answered, ‘call the others for a meeting tomorrow. You decide where we will meet.’
It wasn’t an unusual request. It was normal for Mostofi to use different offices at the last minute. His aides chose a location, his security team vetted it and the Quds boss then used it. It was how he had stayed alive for that long.
He made a mental list of what needed to be done.
Visit Malek-Ashtar University of Technology, MUT, and check out the weapon for himself.
Identify a suitable agent to be deployed to America.
Check with Hadi Sayyadi, the Foreign Affairs Minister and Salman Poozesh, the Economy and Finance Minister.
‘Hadi,’ he left a voicemail for the former. ‘Let’s meet tomorrow. There’s something important to discuss.’
He sent a similar text to the second minister and settled back.
A slight smile creased his lips as he wondered where Carter was.