Mehdi Hosseini resumed his distracted-student gig when lunchtime neared. He paced the hallway, ducked into the intersection often and made sure the guard saw him but disappeared each time before the sentry could shout a warning.
He lingered longer in that corridor at every subsequent foray, his head down, a textbook in his right hand, his phone in his left as he mumbled to himself. The electronics geek was on an open call, listening in. The pen was in his pocket, recording, as it pointed at the closed door behind the guard.
He hoped something would happen soon. The sheer monotony of his surveillance run was getting to him.
Zeb crawled out from beneath the broken-down car in his mechanic uniform. His face was streaked with sweat and grease and his khaki shirt and trousers were dirty with stains. He discreetly felt his false nose. Yeah, it was in position. He was on Marzdaran, eighty feet from the traffic lights. The approach road to the headquarters was to the left. Bwana’s kebab shop to the right of him, down the street.
‘Check in,’ he whispered as he wiped his brow on his sleeve.
‘I can see you,’ Meghan responded from her rooftop. ‘And the lights as well. Great view from here.’
‘I can, too,’ Broker added.
‘In position.’ Beth.
Zeb searched for her, didn’t spot the cab she was in. Will be down the line of vehicles parked on the side. The younger twin was outfitted as an elder woman, a passenger in her taxi, waiting for her driver to appear who had vanished on a personal errand.
‘This is good food,’ Bwana mumbled, his mouth full. ‘These kebabs are something. We should return to this joint once we are done with this mission.’
Roger groaned at his friend. ‘I hope you leave something for the other customers. All quiet at my end.’
Zeb thought he saw fingers waggle out of a delivery truck, but he wasn’t sure if it was his friend’s. Grocery store driver was the Texan’s disguise.
‘We are out in the open. Alfresco café,’ Chloe checked in. ‘The same Dutch couple from the IICC. Koen Borger is looking bored. I hope he doesn’t snooze.’
‘I am alert and watching,’ Bear objected.
Zeb returned to the underside of his vehicle and made a show of tinkering with its chassis. It was packed with explosives, as was Meghan’s cab. Two other empty cars were similarly loaded.
Roger’s secret weapon, the truck, was stuffed with fake US currency, dollar notes. Mostly small denominations with a few Benjamins thrown in. It was also packed with smoke canisters.
‘I spotted a few choppers,’ he warned.
‘Yeah. There’s one hovering above me,’ Broker responded easily. He didn’t move, didn’t adjust the Fibrotex camo blanket he was huddled beneath. It protected him from thermal imagers and was also customized to blend with any urban or other combat terrain. The protective cover was a similar shade to the greying concrete on the rooftop with its splotches of damp and maze of cracks.
He had brazenly entered the building, dressed as a maintenance man, carrying his gear in a gym bag and hadn’t been accosted by any resident. Once on the top, he had locked the access door and checked his exfil route. Down the drain pipe at the rear.
His eye was pressed to the Leupold scope mounted on his Barrett Multi-Role Adaptive Design, MRAD, sniper rifle. He had swapped its barrel to accommodate the 338 Lapua Magnum rounds fed from the box magazine. Its muzzle poked through a hole in the parapet and wasn’t visible from street level nor from the circling choppers.
He could see the parapet of the office building but couldn’t spot Meghan.
The older sister ignored the trickle of sweat that ran down the side of her face. She lay in the classic prone position, a bipod supporting her MRAD which was identical to Broker’s weapon. The view through her scope, the voices in her earpiece and spatial awareness—her universe didn’t extend to any more.
The chopper overheard drifted lower as several traffic cops turned up at the lights, their smart uniforms catching the light.
They’ll put on a show to impress Mostofi.
The Quds commander finished his address by verbally attacking the Shaitan which got him several rousing cheers. He thanked his audience, congratulated them on their service to the country and hurried out through a side exit from the podium and was immediately flanked by his aides.
He was escorted by them to his black, armored vehicle and was driven away.
‘What’s happening?’ he barked in his cell phone the moment he had buckled up.
‘Your replacement is going down to the lights, agha.’ Nassour replied from his house. ‘Radan is on-site and has enough people. They are monitoring the scene. I have got feeds on my screen too. Your double will look around, speak to the senior inspectors, smile, laugh, make jokes and will leave after half an hour. If Carter or his people show up, we will take them down.’
‘Does Radan know it won’t be me?’
‘No, agha.’
Mostofi nodded in satisfaction. That’s why Nassour was his best aide. The man thought of everything. ‘Keep me posted.’
Radan leaned over a Quds operator who was studying several screens in the command bus. Several technicians were monitoring feeds from the choppers and images from cameras on top of the bus and public CCTVs. Quds’ AI software was screening all images in real time, looking for the American operatives. The inside of the bus had four armed guards for protection.
‘Anything?’ he asked even though he knew the answer. His people would have called out if they had found anything.
‘No, agha.’
‘You’ve checked the rooftops?’
‘Our choppers have scanned it for any heat signatures. Nothing. No one is on top. A few residents on a building came up to see what the fuss was about, but they have been ordered back inside.’
‘Our AI, it should have spotted those killers by now.’
‘Only if they are visible, agha,’ another technician responded. ‘Our tech … it’s not as good as what the Western countries or Israel have. Our best engineers leave Iran to work in America, England, Germany…’ he trailed off.
Radan nodded shortly. He’s saying our software might not work even if those people come out in the open, disguised as someone else.
He glanced at his watch.
‘Be alert,’ he snapped. ‘The commander will come out any moment.’
‘Don’t linger here,’ the guard called out.
Hosseini pretended not to hear. He recited the words in his textbook aloud, memorizing and turned his back on the sentry.
‘YOU!’ the guard shouted.
‘Yes?’ he removed one earphone.
‘This is not a public corridor.’
The student nodded, replaced his earbud and went back to his reading.
Still nothing from behind the door.
‘Vehicles approaching,’ Meghan called out. ‘Looks like Mostofi’s ride and his security.’
‘I see them,’ Broker confirmed.
‘I can hear them,’ Bwana grunted.
Zeb looked out from beneath his damaged car. He heard the rising sound of sirens. The first armored vehicle screeched to a halt. Security guards sprang out. Traffic policemen straightened. The second ride braked. Dust rose in the air. Passersby stopped to look. A pair of spit-polished boots emerged.
Mostofi!
‘He’s here.’
‘Eyes on,’ Broker checked in. Meghan tapped her mic.
‘Yeah.’ Beth replied tersely.
Zeb kept watching as Chloe and Roger confirmed sightings. Traffic which had slowed, sped up as the police officers demonstrated how they managed snarls at chokepoints.
Mostofi stood in broad view, his arms on his hips, nodding as a senior cop by his side kept up a commentary.
Zeb checked his surroundings. No one looking beneath the car. He reached for his binos and trained them on the Quds commander just as his view was cut off by another cop.
‘No sign of Golzar.’ Meghan, calm, cool, in his earpiece.
‘I’m heading out,’ Bwana announced.
‘Roger that,’ Broker.
Zeb kept his binos trained on the Quds commander and the men surrounding him. Figures jostled as everyone tried to get close to the leader. Shouts above the street noises as police urged the traffic to keep flowing.
‘Out of the door,’ Bwana.
Mostofi came into view.
‘THAT’S HIM!’ the technician shouted in the bus.
Radan squinted but there was no need. One of the choppers had gotten the man square in its cameras. The American, and there was no mistaking him since he had made no attempt at disguise, stepped off the pavement and headed to the traffic lights.
‘HE’S HEADING TO THE BOSS.’
‘Yes, I can see that,’ Radan barked. ‘He’s unarmed. Let him get closer and then surround him.’
Mehdi Hosseini walked back to the end of the hallway. Past it and into the corridor. From the corner of his eye he saw the guard glower. He stopped and brought his textbook closer to his eyes.
There seemed to be some kind of movement behind the door, but he couldn’t risk a look.
‘Into the street.’ Bwana loped easily. ‘I can see several men come out. From vehicles. Shops. Closing in on me.’
‘We see them,’ Bear confirmed.
‘It’s a trap,’ Beth said in satisfaction. ‘Just like we guessed.’
Zeb watched. Something niggled at the back of his mind. The Quds commander was clearly visible, showing his profile.
‘Meg, Broker, can you see Mostofi?’
‘Yeah,’ they replied.
‘Waiting for Bwana’s reveal,’ the elder twin added.
‘Any moment now.’ Their friend took another step, and then another. He was nearing the edge of Marzdaran, less than fifty feet separating him from Mostofi. Several soldiers shouting at him, leveling their weapons, plain-clothes men cutting off the exit.
‘What’s he doing?’ Radan spoke to himself as he raced out of the bus and onto the street. He burst into a sprint as he saw the tall American walking confidently, ignoring all the weapons aimed at him, not hearing the orders directed at him.
‘DON’T SHOOT,’ he yelled in his comms handset. ‘WE NEED HIM ALIVE. CAN YOU SEE CARTER OR ANYONE ELSE?’
‘Negative,’ the technician replied as his men confirmed his order.
Radan put on an extra burst of speed. Twenty feet from the operative who must have heard him shouting but didn’t turn.
Mehdi Hosseini felt the door opening. He looked up. That had never happened before.
It looked like the guard hadn’t expected that, either because he started turning in surprise.
The PhD student stared as he looked past the entrance. Another guard beyond. Another pair of doors, which too opened.
A figure inside. It could be a lab, but he wasn’t sure because all his attention was centered on the white-coated man who was on his phone and square in his sights.
Hosseini’s breath left him in a gasp.
Zeb watched as the Quds boss scratched his cheek. His doubt became a certainty.
‘That’s not Mostofi!’ he snapped. ‘He never touches his face in public. That’s a dupe. EXFIL NOW!’
He rolled out from beneath his vehicle. Fingered the trigger to the explosives.
Bwana stopped.
He unzipped his jacket and flung it away.
Radan skidded to a halt.
‘BOMB VEST.’ He roared. ‘HE’S GOING TO BLOW EVERYONE UP. GET BACK!’
Mehdi Hosseini stared in disbelief. Even as he watched, the man ended his call and locked eyes with the student for an instant. The scientist snapped an order to the guard. The door shut. The sentry looked at Hosseini who lost his nerve and turned on his heel.
‘STOP!’ the guard yelled.
The student burst into a run, down the hallway, to get away from the campus and head to safety.
‘Exfil,’ Roger confirmed and leaped out of the truck.
‘Warning shots,’ Broker called out and fired two rounds in the air.
The 338 Lapua Magnum bullets burst out of the muzzle at more than two thousand feet a second. He trained the rifle back on Mostofi as screams burst out from the Marzdaran and people fled to safety.
‘Mostofi’s gone. But, Radan’s here, from a tourist bus.’
‘I see him.’ Meghan, sounding almost bored.
‘No civilians,’ Zeb confirmed as he ran down the street, past Azmayesh, after which was Qaem Street. ‘Roger, trigger!’
The delivery truck exploded. Its shaped charge of currency notes and gas burst, filling the air with fluttering dollar bills and dense smoke that started enveloping the street, drowning out visibility.
Radan skidded to a halt as his men fled from the scene, seeking cover. The commander was not to be seen as his convoy’s tires squealed and bit and raised a cloud of dirt.
He raised his handset to shout orders just as a detonation filled the air and money and smoke descended over Marzdaran.
The sounds of panicked civilians turned to shouts of surprise and delight.
‘DOLLARS!’ someone shouted at the rain of notes amidst the thick smoke. That word started the melee.
What the— Radan gaped as the fleeing public returned and filled the intersection in pursuit of free money. He felt eyes on him and turned to see the American staring at him, smiling.
What’s he laughing at?
That was his last thought as two rounds smashed into him and sent him into the beyond.
‘Don’t detonate the car bombs,’ Zeb relayed as he scanned the street even as he continued his furious run. ‘Enough confusion on the street.’
‘No bombs,’ Beth repeated.
A large figure loomed by his side.
Zeb drew his Glock and lowered it immediately when he recognized Bwana.
‘That smoke,’ his friend chuckled, ‘Roger must have stuffed more gas than notes. It will blind the choppers too.’
Zeb clapped him on the back. The gas had enveloped the entire junction. It reduced visibility to just a couple of feet beyond which were indistinct shapes as the fleeing crowd converged on the intersection, attracted by the rain of money.
The choppers hovered low as their rotors tried to dissipate the fog, but all they did was settle it more densely.
A bullhorn sounded and an officer rapped orders, but the civilians had no give in them. People leaped into the air to catch the fluttering bills, while many got to the ground and scooped them up.
Zeb guided Bwana, their going slow as bodies crashed into them, chasing the get-rich-quick dream, and then they were through the opening on their right and onto Qaem Street.
The first gunfire reached their ears as they climbed into the ambulance. Zeb looked up, his face tight.
It wasn’t beyond the Quds to fire into the mass of innocents.
Meghan piled in. ‘They’re shooting over people’s heads,’ she read his face. ‘That was the last we saw.’ The vehicle shook when Broker climbed in a minute later and tossed his gear in the rear.
Zeb stomped on the gas and squealed out. Moments later the cop vehicle, the second getaway ride, appeared in his rear mirror.
‘Check in’ he rapped out.
‘All clear. No injuries,’ Beth replied confidently.
And only then did Zeb Carter wipe his brow and allowed himself to relax a fraction.
Nassour watched in sick fascination as the smoke filled the air and hid the street from sight.
‘WHAT’S HAPPENING?’ he yelled at Radan on his radio and then watched in horror as the man’s body jerked from two rounds and fell to the ground. The major shouted in impotent fury as his screens were filled with smoke and indistinct shapes.
He crashed his fist on his table and cursed, knowing Carter had gotten away yet again.
Mehdi Hosseini wasn’t as lucky as Zeb.
He had taken less than ten steps when he was brought down by the guards. He bit his lips when he was turned over roughly and saw the rifle butt descending.
He knew what would come. Torture and death.
He prayed that he was man enough to withstand it and then darkness enveloped him as the blow struck.