34

‘Habib,’ Mostofi told his aide when they returned to their vehicles after getting the vaccine jabs. ‘Let’s inspect Kharg tomorrow.’

Nassour hesitated. He wanted to meet the twins. Kharg was a good four-hour flight from Tehran, one way. A visit to the oil terminals would consume the whole day and then more.

‘Can we move it to the day after, agha?’

‘You’ve something for tomorrow?’

‘I need to interview a few people. Shahriar Garrison, the investigation,’ he explained smoothly. It wasn’t entirely a lie. The attack on the camp had to be looked into, the perps had to be located or at least their infil and exfil had to be tracked.

‘Okay. The day after, then. But we can’t delay it anymore. I need to present a report to the Supreme Leader.’

‘I think the day after will be very good,’ Nassour said as inspiration struck him. ‘By then, that prisoner will be dead. Those guards will be infected too.’

‘You recognized them.’

‘Yes, agha.’

‘Guards?’ Miri asked.

‘Those three prisoners,’ Mostofi explained, ‘they were guards at Shahriar. They allowed the attackers into the camp. They had to be punished.’

His chest swelled with pride at his aide’s calm acceptance. He had trained them well. That’s why, they, the cream of the Quds, were, now in his team.

‘Why did you want that two-day gestation period, agha?’ Vahdat queried.

Mostofi smiled in the night. His eyes glittered. He stopped climbing into his vehicle. ‘Let’s see if you can work it out for yourself.’

His men fell silent as they thought it over. Nassour again got there first.

‘It’s to allow our man passage. To give him enough time to get into place. Go from here, in Iran, to US, and be at the right location.’

‘Correct.’ Mostofi patted him on the shoulder. He was careful not to show any favoritism but sometimes it was hard, when Habib was so much smarter than the rest.

‘Agha,’ Tehari scratched his beard. ‘I should have asked this to the professor, but I forgot. What if the man dies in those forty-eight hours?’

‘Nothing happens, then,’ Mostofi said. ‘The virus dies with him. He cannot infect anyone within those two days.’

‘Foolproof, agha,’ Miri said admiringly. ‘Your plan is so good. It has no holes in it. If our man reaches US, he will infect that country and it will soon be turned into the largest wasteland in the world.’

They paused to contemplate the vision.

‘And if something happens to our man,’ Miri continued, ‘then, there’s no blowback to us. The virus will not be detected. Habib was right. You truly are a genius.’

Mostofi basked in their praise for a moment and then controlled himself. ‘So many ifs, Jehangir. Don’t you have faith in your man? Assuming I select him.’

‘I’ve read their files,’ Nassour chuckled. ‘My man is much better than theirs, agha.’

‘You read their files?’ Vahdat turned on him.

‘Yes. Don’t pretend none of you did the same.’

The looks on the other aides confirmed that they too had gone through the dossiers of one another’s men.

‘Enough of talk,’ Mostofi slapped the roof of his vehicle. ‘Give me those files tomorrow. I will start selection. Tell your men to be ready to come to Tehran.’


Habib Nassour was in good spirits as he was driven back to his residence. What he had seen in the lab not only boggled his mind but also excited him. Neither he nor any of the other aides had worked with chemical or biological weapons.

I didn’t know we even had them. Sure, there had been the rumors and the usual accusing statements by the Americans. There had even been excited chatter of such weapons when Iraq had invaded Iran, that both parties had used toxins on the each other’s armies. Mossad had made its own claims. There had been UN inspections but nothing had been proven. Nassour, like the rest of the Quds soldiers, had believed his boss and his predecessors when they confirmed Iran did not possess such weapons.

All along, he was developing them. He’s such a fox.

His vehicle stopped at the gates to his house and brought his rumination to an end. He rolled down the window in annoyance. ‘What is it?’ he snapped at the guards.

‘Agha, there’s someone here to see you. We got him to wait here.’

The truck driver. Suleiman.

‘Send him to the house.’

Nassour could have given the man a ride, he could have saved him the walk, but no. That would have shown he had a soft side. He didn’t. He was a hard man, just like his boss.

He got out of his vehicle and sat on the porch, waiting for the trucker to arrive. A light breeze was blowing making the night chilly. In the distance, the lights of Tehran twinkled, and the faint sounds of traffic could be heard.

A shadow appeared presently on the driveway. The driver reached him and clutched his waist as he panted and regained his breath.

‘You saw something at Shahriar?’

‘Yes, agha,’ the trucker wheezed. ‘I saw this flash from a vehicle. I slowed and took several photos and then drove away.’

Nassour watched him impatiently as the man sucked deep lungfuls of air. He could have offered him a chair. He didn’t. He was a Quds man. Civilians were of a lesser stature.

‘Show me,’ he commanded when the man kept huffing for breath.

The driver reached into his pocket with shaky hands and brought out his phone. He fingered its keys and handed the device to the officer.

Nassour snatched it, ignored the man’s shivering in the cold and started browsing through the photographs.

The first one was grainy. The wide road, empty at that time of the night. The outline of the garrison to the left, dark smudges to the right of the tarmac.

‘That’s the truck stop,’ the driver added helpfully.

‘I have eyes, I can see.’

The man withdrew, subdued.

The next picture was nothing but a bright flash from one of the dark smudges.

The third one was better. A burning vehicle. Another one behind it, that looked like a Jeep. It certainly was some kind of SUV.

The next picture was clearer. The streetlight was at the right angle and helped the camera capture the inside of the vehicle.

Nassour’s breath caught in his throat.

It couldn’t be.

He zoomed in on the picture, then went to the last one which was even better.

Yes, there was no doubt.

The occupants were two women.

Identical looking.

He didn’t recognize them, but Nassour was no fool. The twins had entered his life soon after the attack. It was no coincidence.

Parvin and Mahya Hajar were the attackers.