‘Nassour and Mostofi are flying to Kharg tomorrow.’ Beth announced. ‘He has booked a military aircraft from Mehrabad Air Base early in the morning. There will be a vehicle receiving them from Kharg Airport.’
‘Sent by the oil company?’ Zeb asked. He didn’t ask how she knew. They must have heard the call recordings on the aide’s phone.
‘Yeah. The aircraft will be waiting for them all day. He’s penciled a late return in his calendar.’
Zeb swiveled in his chair thoughtfully. He checked out his friends from beneath his eyelids. Bwana and Roger listening to music, bopping their heads while they played chess. Bear and Chloe curled up against each other, reading a book. Broker, frowning, as he read a Persian newspaper. Meghan, intense, as she worked at her screen. Beth, tapping her pen against her teeth, waiting for him to make a comment.
‘It can’t be Bwana. He’ll be noticed,’ she said.
She knows what I’m thinking. He smiled ruefully. Why am I not surprised?
‘Bear and Chloe will be, too,’ she continued.
‘What’s that?’ the petite woman looked up.
‘Zeb’s thinking of sending someone to Kharg. To follow Mostofi and Nassour. They’re going tomorrow.’
‘It’s an oil terminal,’ Bwana mused. ‘We won’t be able to go in just like that. They don’t do tours.’
‘I know. But anything we can get out of it will be useful.’
‘It has to be me and Roger,’ Broker declared. ‘None of you will fit in. The only other people on that island are oil companies. We’ll be able to blend.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Roger demurred. ‘I don’t fit in anywhere. Too good looking,’ he shrugged helplessly, a grin appearing on his face.
‘What will we do?’ Meghan turned around, ‘when they are away?’
‘See if we can enter MUT.’