Zeb followed the sisters, Meghan in the lead, as they raced through the alley.
‘He was right,’ Beth slowed down, her nose wrinkling as they emerged in the garbage dump through a cleverly hidden tunnel beneath a mound of metal trash that was permanently stuck to a side wall. ‘Only the workers come here. It’s not a tourist spot.’
Mounds of trash surrounded them. Plastic bags spilling to reveal food waste. Garden waste in another mountain. TVs, computers and household electronics randomly strewn.
They picked their way carefully and scaled the metal fence.
‘Zeb? ZEB!’
He pulled himself up before blindly bumping into Chloe.
‘You’ve drifted,’ she chuckled. Her smile disappeared when she read his expression.
‘How did they find you?’ he asked the sisters.
‘I haven’t figured that out,’ Meghan shook her head in frustration. ‘They knew we would be there. Fathi questioned Somi Arian, that salon owner. That’s how she knew Quds would be waiting for us.’
‘It could be a lucky guess,’ Bear offered. ‘Someone recognized them, informed Mostofi’s people.’
‘Yeah, but how did they recognize us? We don’t look like how Nassour’s seen us. We have different disguises when we are at the charity.’
‘Quds have AI software too. They could have created several looks for us. Circulated that on the street.’
That’s how it must have happened. Zeb felt his temple and examined his fingers. The bleeding had stopped. The throbbing, which was dull and faint, would ease soon.
‘We should leave the charity. We can’t risk exposing the CIA’s front,’ Meghan drew her jacket tighter around her and smiled absently at a passerby before leading them to a bus stop, hundred yards away, where they gathered under its plastic awning.
Zeb placed the concrete monstrosity of a building looming over them. Postal headquarters. We’re near Hors Square.
It was a good place to gather. No one would think much of a bunch of travelers awaiting the next ride. All of them were spread out, facing the street, glancing at their phones, or looking at nothing in particular.
‘Yeah,’ Zeb spoke in his mic as he checked the fading bus schedule stuck in the enclosure. ‘From now on, we check into different hotels each night, pay in cash, no more than two or three of us in each place. If we don’t find such accommodation, we sleep in our rides.’
None of them objected. Rough sleeping came with missions. Part of the territory.
‘Something’s still bothering you,’ the elder twin stated.
That’s why she’s the smartest of us all. He bent his head to hide his wry grin.
‘I think he made me.’
‘Who?’
‘Mostofi.’
‘He was there?’ Bear stiffened, made an apologetic face when Chloe jammed her elbow in his side at his loud voice.
‘Yeah. That vehicle blocking Fereydoun Alley … he was in it, along with Nassour.’
Broker cursed softly as they digested his announcement. ‘I was sprinting. I noticed that ride, but didn’t see anything else.’
‘Same here,’ Roger swore.
‘Me,’ Bwana growled, ‘I had eyes on that dude who was going after Beth.’
‘You got him just in time,’ she fist-bumped him discreetly. ‘I had no cover … I was a sitting duck.’
‘None of us saw him,’ Chloe rued. ‘We could have gotten him right there. We could have held him hostage, that would have let Beth and Meg join us.’
‘The thought crossed my mind,’ Zeb admitted, ‘but by then, you all were away, too far to return.’
‘Back up,’ Meghan cocked her head at him. ‘You said he made you. How? He’s never seen you before.’
‘I can’t describe it,’ he shrugged. ‘There was a second or two when we were staring at each other. I could see it in his eyes. I was astonished to see him there. With Nassour. He must have read something on my face.’
‘It’s possible,’ she shuffled her feet impatiently as she looked down the alley for any sign of a bus. ‘Eight of us, three women, Bwana … he’s smart. He must have put it together instantly.’
‘If he knows,’ Roger went out in the alley, glanced up and down and returned, shaking his head at the tardiness of Tehran’s public transport. ‘Every soldier, Quds operative, police officer, will be looking for us.’
‘We figured our cover would be blown at some point. It has happened sooner. We’ll deal with it.’
‘What about you, Zeb?’ she cocked her head at him. ‘What happened in that crawl lane? How did you come across Zarhagi?’
He broke it down quickly for them, his eyes scanning the alley. Staying too long at the bus stop was a danger. A police or military vehicle could go past.
‘You think he can help us?’
‘Maybe. Anything from Nassour’s phone?’
‘Back on my laptop. We’ll have to wait until we return. Chau has logged into his company network and Werner is digging through it. But—’
‘We got what we wanted from him. We know what the paint is about.’
‘Yeah.’ She glanced at her watch and grimaced. ‘Let’s go.’
They trailed after her, spreading out on either side of the alley, giving no sign they were a team.
It came to Zeb when they were nearing their accommodation. He stopped short and cursed himself for not seeing it earlier.
‘What now?’ Beth, impatient, in his earpiece.
‘It was very easy for Fathi to find out where you would be.’
‘How?’ Meghan stopped to tie her shoelaces.
‘You’re twins. How many such sisters would there be in Tehran? Of a certain age? All they had to do was ask around if anyone had seen two such women.’
A moment of silence followed by long string of colorful cursing from Beth.
‘You know what this means,’ she told her sister.
‘Yeah,’ the younger sister sniggered. ‘You’ll have to stop looking like me. What about Bwana, though? We can’t wrap him from head to toe. That would look suspicious.’
‘I hope they find me,’ the subject of her comment rasped. ‘Today’s action wasn’t enough for me.’
Beth rolled her eyes and hurried to join Meghan. The operatives split up, each one of them going to their accommodation.
‘Ten minutes,’ Zeb told them. ‘Don’t take too long, and wipe the places down. As best as you can.’
He hurried through the entrance of his hotel, head bent down. Alert for any sign of Quds killers.
The clerk didn’t look up from his screen. A couple of elder men were talking desultorily as they waited for someone else. Nothing out of the ordinary.
He bounded up the stairs and peered out of the landing door when he reached his floor. All quiet. Went to his room, brought out his Glock and dived inside when he opened the door.
It was empty.
Ten minutes later he was heading out, his backpack over his shoulder, a gym bag in his left hand.
A thought struck him and a smile crossed his face.
He went back inside and tore a sheet of paper from the hotel stationery.
Attack Shahriar camp, he scribbled on it in Hebrew and ticked it.
Follow Mostofi. Get his routine.
Another tick.
He grinned when he wrote one more line.
Attack Presidential Building.
He stuck the note to the bottom of his bed and left his room.
It won’t fool Mostofi. He’ll see it for what it is, a red herring. But he won’t take any risks. He will beef up security around that place.
Which meant there would be fewer Quds soldiers hunting them.