‘How many of them were there?’ Mostofi reclined in the plush leather seat of the military jet as it rose high above the city. He had listened to his aide narrate the previous night’s failed operation in silence.
The aircraft was specially equipped to transport the Quds commander and senior leaders of the IRGC. Soft carpets, fancy upholstery, an attendant, it had the works.
‘Six of them, I think, agha,’ Nassour answered broodingly. ‘The fight became a brawl the moment the others joined it. All of us had our hands full. We weren’t keeping count. I have a feeling some customers piled in as well. You know how some citizens view Quds.’
Mostofi examined his aide as he sipped his chai. The commander would have killed any other Quds soldier for the disastrous operation. He had considered it in fact. He had shot many men in the aircraft. There had even been a few whom he had thrown out of the jet while alive.
Nassour’s not any other soldier. None of my aides are. He needed them. There was only so much that he could accomplish on his own. He needed a trusted set of lieutenants to carry out his orders and in his four assistants, he had struck gold.
‘I should kill you,’ he said conversationally and was pleased at the flash of fear in Nassour’s eyes. ‘You know how I punish failure.’
‘I do, agha,’ his aide lowered his eyes. To his credit, he didn’t plead, didn’t blubber.
‘I won’t,’ Mostofi continued and pretended not to notice the man’s shoulder sag in relief. ‘Not every mission is successful. I have had my share of failed operations.’ He snapped his fingers in the air to signal the attendant and raised his empty cup in the air.
‘They spoke Hebrew?’ he asked when the steward had replenished his chai.
‘They didn’t say much, agha,’ Nassour frowned, remembering. ‘Get him. Go. Those are the only words I remembered. One of those attackers was a woman, but other than those sisters and that large man, everyone had their faces covered.’
‘How is Golzar?’
‘He is okay. His pride is hurt, nothing else. He had that woman, Parvin, in a corner and would have captured her. That would have changed the fight. However, these others joined the attack. One of them threw him out of the window and another man kicked him when he was out. Minor injuries. He wants revenge.’
‘There’s not much chance of that,’ Mostofi commented. ‘I am sure those Mossad kidon have disappeared into the city by now. They would have changed their appearance.’
‘I am disappointed in you,’ he said after a while. ‘By now, you should realize how much I hate liars.’
‘How have I lied to you, agha?’ Nassour protested.
‘It was just a coincidence that you found those women at that restaurant?’ the Quds commander raised his eyebrows. ‘Mossad operatives aren’t stupid. You knew those women, didn’t you?’ He said coldly.
His aide’s eyes fell. His shoulders drooped.
‘Yes, agha,’ he mumbled and told his boss everything.
‘Give me your phone,’ Mostofi ordered when Nassour had finished.
‘My phone?’
‘Give it!’
‘Unlock it,’ he ordered when his aide handed it over.
Nassour did his bidding.
Mostofi scrolled through the device and scanned the directory. No Quds contacts. None of his aides stored one another’s or their boss’s number on their devices. They memorized those. Security. It looked like Nassour had stuck to that protocol. There wasn’t anything related to any operation or connected to any senior Quds officer on his phone.
He read the messages that the aide had exchanged with the Mossad operatives.
‘You thought of bedding them?’
His man didn’t answer.
‘I would, in your position. They seem attractive from what I can see,’ he smiled wolfishly. His mirth disappeared as he removed the phone’s SIM card and snapped it. He crushed the battery and the device under his heel.
The attendant rushed across and swept the remains into a dustbin.
‘Get my bag,’ Mostofi told his aide.
Nassour got to his feet and got his boss’s luggage from the luggage hold.
The Quds commander rummaged through it and brought out a brand-new phone. He tore off the cellophane wrapping and thrust the box at his aide. From another pocket in his bag, he brought out a new SIM card and gave it to Nassour.
‘You said you went to the bathroom for a few minutes. It’s possible they bugged your phone.’
‘They didn’t, agha. I checked when I returned to my apartment.’
‘I believe you. Still, it’s better to be safe.’
He watched as his aide assembled the phone and plugged it into his laptop to sync.
‘Did you get your camera? We’ll need to take pictures at Kharg.’
‘Yes, agha.’
‘What will you do about the Mossad operatives?’
‘I’ve got a plan,’ Nassour said and outlined it.
Mostofi gave a thin smile and patted the man’s wrist. ‘It might work. Get onto it.’ He yawned and looked at his watch. ‘Wake me up when we are landing,’ he said and pushed his seat back and closed his eyes.
Nassour discreetly wiped the perspiration from his forehead when his boss started to snore. That had been a close call. He had seen Mostofi shoot traitors and even Quds operatives in the aircraft. He and the other aides had cleaned up the resulting mess, several times.
He turned his head away and called Golzar.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked the man softly.
‘I am good, agha. Angry with myself. We had a chance and I lost it. If I had gotten my gun to that woman’s head, we could have taken them.’
‘Forget what happened,’ Nassour commanded him.
‘How did the boss take it?’
‘He understood. However, let’s not screw up again. Reach out to every one of our informers in Tehran,’ he referred to the network of spies that Quds had developed over the years. Taxi drivers, shopkeepers, street sweepers, office executives, home makers, the agency had cultivated hundreds of snitches who fed a steady stream of information.
It was one way how Quds knew of upcoming protests against the government, which student leader was planning new strikes, which government official was taking bribes.
‘Tell them to look out for twins. They should alert us as soon as they spot any. It doesn’t matter how they look. They should call us.’
‘That’s brilliant, agha,’ Golzar breathed. ‘The number of twin sisters in Tehran is low. The number of such women who are of that age is even lower. We’ll find them soon enough.’
‘And this time,’ Nassour said in a hard voice, ‘they won’t escape.’