Chloe was right.
Three military vehicles were parked in Fereydoun, one right outside Somi Arian’s shop.
Soldiers were questioning several proprietors and many of them were in the crawl lane where Zarhagi had his apartment.
Zeb drifted down the alley, a newspaper underneath his arm as he looked around him casually. They were spread out, all eight of them, looking like any other Tehran citizen, mildly curious about the Quds presence, but minding their own business. It wasn’t too healthy to be inquisitive about what that organization did.
‘Zeb,’ Beth, strained, sharp, in their ear pieces. ‘They’re beating Arian.’
Zeb didn’t react immediately though Bwana cursed and Bear swore. He went to a food stall and ordered a soda. Sipped it casually and turned to face the salon.
Three soldiers inside, one of whom was gripping the owner and slapping her. Her assistants cowering against the wall, all of it visible through the windows.
‘Chloe, you’re in the square behind me?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Anyone near you?’
‘No. Residential area. Everyone must have gone inside at the sight of the soldiers.’
‘How do I look?’
‘Like a professor,’ Roger chimed in. ‘What’s with the questions?’
‘Let’s rescue her.’
‘If we do, she won’t be able to return to her shop,’ Meghan warned.
That stopped Zeb. She’s right. Quds will be on the lookout for her. She won’t be able to return to the shop or work anywhere else in Tehran.
‘Call her.’
He unfolded the newspaper while the woman in the dark hijab and loose robe sat on a broken parapet on one side of the park, wiped her brow and dialed a number on her cell.
Meghan could see Somi Arian through the windows, raising her hands to ward off the blows. A cold rage filled her as the number connected and rang.
The soldiers in the salon stopped. They looked at the phone and then at the owner. One of them said something and gestured at it.
‘It’s me. You warned me about Fathi. Don’t take my name,’ she said sharply. ‘Talk to me as if I am a customer, booking an appointment for hair coloring and hand painting, for a marriage.’
Arian breathed heavily in her phone. ‘Of course, khanom, we do all the bridal grooming. Hair, henna art, nails, everything.’ Her voice was unsteady but grew stronger as she spoke.
Smart woman. Meghan closed her eyes in relief. ‘Listen to me carefully. DON’T LOOK UP OR LOOK AROUND. I can see what’s happening. I have one question for you. My friends and I can save you. But you will never be able to return. These people will hunt you in Tehran, they will make your life a living hell. We can back off and let them beat you up. If that’s what you want, tell them whatever they want to know. Don’t hold back. Don’t worry about us. Decide now and tell me.’
A voice in the background, a soldier, yelling at her to finish the call.
‘Sure, khanom,’ Arian continued. ‘I’ll book you in tomorrow. Wait, let me get my appointments book.’ She placed the phone on the table and went to the counter. Flashed a discreet thumbs-up and returned to the phone.
‘I saw that. You want us to come in?’ Meghan asked. Need to confirm, to make sure I didn’t misread that sign.
‘Yes, khanom. You can come tomorrow at eleven am. What name shall I enter?’
‘Nargess,’ Meghan replied and hung up.
‘She’s greenlighted it,’ she said and swallowed with difficulty when one of the soldiers grabbed Arian by her hair. ‘I will take the lead. Inside. I want a crack at them.’
‘Yeah, I saw that thumbs-up too,’ Zeb acknowledged. He checked out the alley. Ten soldiers that he could see, loitering in the open, waiting for the three men in the shop to finish the interrogation. All of them alert. Some more in the crawl lane. Too far to make out the numbers.
He went to the edge of the pavement as he peered beneath his eyebrows, his newspaper spread out in his hand.
‘Bear, Bwana, see that delivery van on the pavement on the other side? Near the escape lane?’
‘Yeah,’ Bear replied. ‘What do you want us to do with it?’
‘Move it. Block that lane with it. It’ll trap those soldiers inside. Broker, you, Roger and Beth, take out these other dudes on the street. Ten men I can count. We have surprise on our side. The mouth of Fereydoun is open. We escape from there, disperse immediately, some of us go down Mahboub Street, the others Balazadeh. Shout out if anyone’s captured. They won’t kill us on the spot. They’ll want to question us, find out where the others are. That’ll give the rest of us time to organize a rescue.’
It was an attack planned on the hoof. Too many moving parts. Anything could go wrong. But we owe it to Arian. We brought it on her.
‘Any questions?’
‘Nah,’ Roger drawled. ‘I can see the vehicle at the front of Fereydoun. Just the driver in it. I’m sure there are more soldiers in various buildings, but my count is the same as yours. Ten in the open. Three in the shop. That driver in the vehicle.’
‘Take him out.’
‘With pleasure.’
‘Chloe?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Fire several times in the air on the count of three. Run away shouting.’
‘Got it.’
The elderly-looking professor lunged out from the edge of the pavement when the first shot sounded.
Zeb burst into a sprint, but still, was a couple of feet behind Meghan who was running full tilt toward the shop, her face set, her scarf flapping behind her.
From behind them, more shots. Chloe’s voice, screaming in terror, warning everyone about a shooter.
The ten soldiers froze for an instant and then acted. Several broke away and raced across the alley and towards the park. One man hurried out of the crawl lane.
That’s Reza Jehangir. Zeb recognized him immediately from one of the files they had found in Nassour’s residence. The man took in the scene immediately and started giving orders. Looks like he’s in command.
Jehangir spotted Zeb. Took him for one of the many civilians fleeing the scene. A look of alarm crossed his face when he saw the Glock in the elderly man’s hand.
Zeb double-tapped him in the chest before he could react. Saw Roger at work through the corner of his eye, firing at the vehicle. Bwana and Bear grunting and straining as they shoved the vehicle.
And then something slammed into him and he went skidding and stumbling.
‘Sorry, Zeb,’ Beth, no trace of apology in her voice. ‘Sis and I will deal with this.’
Meghan didn’t acknowledge her sister’s presence though she felt what had gone down. She wasn’t surprised. Beth feels as strongly as I do.
She leaped up the steps and crashed through the salon’s door.
‘WHAT’S HAPPENING?’ she raged loudly. ‘WHY ARE YOU BEATING THAT WOMAN?’
Her first shot took out the soldier who was gripping Arian’s hair. Her second shot creased the shoulder of another soldier. Beth’s gun roared from behind her, a quick, short, burst that put down the remaining soldiers who hadn’t reacted fast enough.
Meghan grabbed the hairdresser by her hand. Snatched her bag from the counter and thrust it at her. ‘Do you need anything else?’
‘No,’ the salon owner replied, her face pale.
‘Let’s go.’
They were out of the shop in less than a minute. Zeb grappling with a soldier who was raising his rifle. Meghan shot him at the same time as Beth.
‘Thanks,’ Zeb panted in their earpieces and then they were sprinting down Fereydoun, leaping over the bodies on the street.
Zeb brought up the rear, jumping high in the air as he passed the van. Fired blindly over its roof at the soldiers who were behind it, several of whom were trying to climb over. It was a tall vehicle, smooth sides and the way Bwana and Bear had jammed it, had made scaling it difficult.
Then he was past the military vehicle, its screen shattered, the driver lying across the wheel, jamming the horn in a continuous honk.
He broke left to follow the sisters who were following a bunch of fleeing civilians. ‘TERRORISTS! RUN!’ Beth screamed and that sped up the fleeing crowd.
Zeb spotted a coat on the ground. Bent and snatched it up. Removed his, flung it away and slid his arms through its sleeves. He grabbed his fake nose and tossed it on the street. His cheek pads followed and using the cover of a lumbering man, removed his contacts. The civilian glanced at him but didn’t understand what he was doing. He huffed and puffed and kept running.
The sisters, along with the salon-owner, darted into Hezarkhani, joined the crush at Loghman Hospital, filtered through it and when they emerged, the three women were wearing different headscarves, shades over their faces and they had slowed to a swift walk.
‘Keep going,’ Zeb instructed from behind as he checked his rear-view feed on his Ray-Ban. ‘Left on Ostad Zadeh, right on Anari.’
They came to a stop near Enghelab Cultural Center, when every operative had checked-in and had confirmed that they had gotten away safely.
‘You’ll have to leave Tehran,’ Meghan told Arian when the salon owner had caught her breath. The three women were at a table in a restaurant, Zeb at another, keeping watch.
‘I know. Thank you. I don’t know what those soldiers—’
‘We brought this on you,’ Beth’s eyes flashed fiercely. ‘We owe it to you.’
‘Thank you, khanom.’ Arian’s eyes blinked rapidly to hold back her tears. ‘I thought they would kill me.’
‘Is there some place you can go to? Somewhere safe?’ Meghan gripped her hand.
‘Mama has some relatives in Kerman, but we aren’t that close.’ She sniffed and smiled weakly. ‘My mother has always wanted to go to Jordan. Her cousins live there. They get along very well. I … if I could, I would go to Germany.’
‘Ask her to call her mother,’ Zeb instructed in their earpieces. ‘She needs to leave their place, right now. Just one bag. Get her to go to the charity.’
Meghan nodded. Relayed the message and explained the reasoning to Arian who nodded reluctantly and made the call. ‘What’s there?’ she asked, her eyes flitting between the sisters and Zeb.
‘Friends. They’ll arrange passage for you to Jordan,’ Beth explained.
The shop owner gawked. ‘Really?’
‘Somi.’ Meghan leaned forward urgently and used the move to slide two thick bundles of US currency across the table. ‘Put that in your bag. Quickly.’
The shop owner stared at the notes dumbly for a moment. Moved robotically and stuffed them in her bag. Her eyes were welling up again when she looked up.
‘I know this is happening very fast for you,’ Meghan told her gently. ‘It’s a lot to take in. You will have to trust us. That charity in Sarhang Basti will take care of you.’
‘And get them to Germany as well, from Jordan.’ Zeb whispered.
‘Onwards to your dream destination as well,’ Meghan repeated. ‘That’—she nodded at the bag on Arian’s shoulder—‘will give you a fresh start.’
‘How can I thank—’
‘No.’ Beth cut her off firmly and got to her feet. They had spent long enough at the restaurant. ‘We owe you.’