Thirtieth of June dawned on a Tehran with its usual heat and traffic snarls.
Zeb kicked it off with an intense cardio regime on the rooftop of his hotel in Tajrish, until his vest was dripping and sweat poured off his body.
It wasn’t enough to wipe the images from the lab.
He showered, dressed in a suit and went searching for breakfast.
‘I’m a block away from you,’ Meghan chirped in his earpiece. His face softened. The sisters knew how he was feeling. The cold fire of the beast in him. They must have gotten Werner to alert them if I went out in the night.
The rest of the operatives checked in and then he began the first call.
‘Ma’am,’ he began when Clare joined the conference. ‘You got that paper?’
‘Yes. The President got CDC to look at it. Scientists have been up all night. Catlyn has got her specialists, the Pentagon, DoD, we’ve all been busy.’ She took a breath. ‘The good news. What you suspected about a gestation period is right. The carrier is not affected for forty-eight hours from injection. Asymptomatic and also cannot transmit.’
‘Which is why he’s coming on the Second of July,’ Beth interjected.
‘Yes. It gives Golzar room to maneuver. To position himself wherever his chosen location is.’
‘Ma’am, what about the vaccine?’
‘We got lucky there. That research paper has everything. The formulas, the compounds … we can manufacture it here. President Morgan will be summoning a meeting in a few hours—’
‘Ma’am,’ Zeb interrupted her, alarmed. ‘This can’t leak. Mostofi might take a different approach if it becomes news.’
‘It won’t,’ she replied calmly. ‘There’s a message from the President, however.’
‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘We’ll take care of the vaccine. You take care of Golzar and Mostofi. However, he’s got a new target for you. Take out the lab and Nazer as well.’
‘We’re way ahead of you on that,’ Meghan replied. Any other day and she and Beth would have been smug. Not that day, when they were dealing with a virus that could cause a pandemic.
Mostofi said his prayers, breakfasted alone and went to his office. He met Hadi Sayyadi, the Foreign Affairs Minister and got reassurances that his master plan was still a secret.
‘No one knows, Siavash,’ the minister told him. ‘America, Britain, France, even China, none of them suspect anything will happen on Fourth.’
That was good news. The previous day, the Petroleum Minister had told the Quds commander that everything was good to go.
He returned to his office in a good mood and went through the files on his desk. His next appointment was with the Supreme Leader.
Habib Nassour and Karim Golzar prayed together in the aide’s house. They had their breakfast in silence.
‘I am fine,’ the killer smiled. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’
‘You have four days to live. That doesn’t bother you?’
‘No. This is what I have trained for all my life. This is what I believe in.’
Nassour nodded. He didn’t think he could have gone through such a mission himself, but Golzar didn’t need to know that.
‘Finish up,’ he said. ‘We need to meet the boss. He will want to check on you for himself.’
Naeem’s in the afternoon. All the Agency operatives filtering inside through the escape route.
Zeb and the twins the first through the door.
Zarhagi waiting for them with Yasaman and Syed and another person.
He reacted instantly.
Shoved Meghan out of the way with his left hand. She crashed into her sister and went down.
He didn’t look their way, blocked the entrance with his body to prevent his remaining friends from entering, his Glock up and trained on the fourth person.
‘That’s not who you think it is,’ Zarhagi smiled at him. ‘This is Dariush Zardari.’
Zeb waited a beat. The room was empty but for them.
‘Clear,’ Bwana whispered in his earpiece after checking out the rest of the restaurant.
Meghan and Beth got to their feet and dusted their hands. It was only then he holstered his Glock and approached Zarhagi and studied the fourth person.
‘He can pass for Go—, our man,’ Beth corrected herself smoothly as they inspected Dariush. ‘Same build, hair and eyes. Features as well.’
‘We have good makeup people,’ Yasaman said, recovering from the shock at seeing Zeb act so swiftly.
‘What do you need him for?’ Zarhagi bade them to sit and occupied a chair.
‘We’ll need him to go to the US,’ Zeb couldn’t help grinning at their expressions.
Beth took over and broke it down to the activists quickly.
‘That’s all I have to do?’ Dariush asked. ‘Stay in Washington DC for a few days and return?’
‘And carry a cell phone with you at all times. You should never use it even if you get calls.’
‘What will happen in those few days?’ Zarhagi leaned forward as if to protect his people physically.
‘It’s better you don’t know,’ Meghan told him bluntly. ‘It is more likely Dariush will not be able to return. Things will get hot here and depending on what happens, it might be unsafe for him.’
It was a possibility Zeb had discussed with his team. Nassour or whoever led Quds once Mostofi disappeared, would investigate Golzar’s disappearance. They will check who carried his phone. Passenger manifests on that plane. They could discover Dariush’s identity.
‘It could be dangerous for you, too,’ he said. ‘If the police know about him—’
‘They don’t,’ Yasaman said. ‘We are not new to this, agha,’ she smiled to take out any sting in her words. ‘Dariush hasn’t been on any demonstration. He works with us, however. He’s one of us. We haven’t been seen with him.’
Zarhagi has trained them well. Zeb nodded approvingly.
‘It’s your decision,’ the old man turned to the volunteer. ‘It will be a big change. A different life.’
‘Will this help our cause?’ the student asked the Americans.
‘Yes,’ Zeb replied. ‘I will be honest, however. Life isn’t suddenly going to improve for Iranians. You will not see any change. But your action will save millions of people in the world, not just in Iran. I can’t tell you how, but you’ll know for yourself in a few days after your travel.’
‘You believe him, agha?’ Dariush asked Zarhagi.
The leader nodded. ‘I don’t know who these people are,’ he waved at the Agency operatives. ‘I have my suspicions, but they haven’t confirmed them. However, you know we have our sources. You all know who Quds are hunting. We can come to conclusions. That, however, does not answer your question, the answer to which is yes. I have looked him in his eyes,’ he pointed at Zeb. ‘I can see inside him. I believe him and his people.’
Zeb felt the twin’s eyes on him and knew why. No wonder the youth have made Zarhagi their leader. He’s one heck of a speaker and can motivate them. On top, he’s got a soldier’s thinking and is a survivor.
‘I have nothing to keep me here, agha,’ the student said slowly. ‘Nothing other than you and the movement.’
‘Quds killed his parents,’ Zarhagi answered the Agency operatives’ questioning looks. ‘He’s alone.’
Zeb gripped his armrests tightly and waited for the wave of fury to wash over him.
Another victim.
‘If he has to stay in the US,’ he told the activists, ‘we will get him citizenship. We will make sure he is safe. We will take care of him.’
‘Go,’ Zarhagi urged the student. ‘I have told all of you several times,’ his glance encompassed Yasaman and Syed. ‘Get back to your life. Leave this behind you.’
‘And we have told you in return,’ Yasaman fired back, ‘we won’t do that. Dariush,’ she turned to her co-activist. ‘Your call.’
‘I will do it.’
Scott Rubin was the size of a barn door. Dan Caton’s pilot met them in Naeem’s that same day, in the evening. He was as tall as Bear and Bwana and as broad. His rust-colored beard went all the way to his chest and waggled whenever he spoke or moved.
He surveyed Zeb with keen eyes as he gripped his hand in the firm handshake and sized up the rest of the operatives.
‘Dan told me about y’all,’ his Texan twang immediately picked up by Roger who fist-bumped him.
Dan. Never Mr. Caton to his employees. It was a measure of the man.
‘You are all Delta?’
‘Some of us,’ Zeb replied. ‘In a different life.’
‘No Marines?’
‘Don’t need them,’ Bear scoffed.
Beth presented a set of photographs to the pilot when the banter had died out and showed him her screen.
The pilot looked over them, made calculations in his head and looked up. ‘That’s all you want me to do?’
‘Yeah.’
‘No shooting up any buildings?’
‘Leave that to us,’ Bwana said.
‘Drop you folks, pick you up and hightail it across the border?’
‘Yeah, though there could be some challenges,’ Beth told him.
Rubin’s eyes lit up. ‘Tell me about those!’
‘Enemy fire, military choppers, sealed-off airspace, take your pick.’
‘Pfft,’ the pilot waved a hand dismissively. ‘My Black Hawk can be equipped with more gear on it than the Navy Seals or Delta. M230 Chain Guns, Hydra rocket pods, Hellfire missiles, stealth technology that I can turn on and off at a switch—’
‘Aren’t all those illegal in Iran?’
‘The weapons are,’ the pilot winked slyly, ‘which is why I don’t have them on my bird. I have them, though. In safe storage. It won’t take me more than an hour to mount them. The stealth tech, I don’t use them. No one suspects my bird has got that. In any case, no one questions Dan. He has juice. He contributes to several charities favored by the Supreme Leader, wines and dines with several ministers. Anyhow, those obstacles you mentioned, they aren’t a big deal. Not for what you have in mind. I can fly my bird with my eyes closed—’
‘Please don’t,’ Beth said fervently.
‘I won’t,’ he grinned. ‘But,’ his smile faded and he looked around to check they were alone. ‘You didn’t hear this from me. The boss and I have done a few runs in Syria. To pick up refugee children. Illegal. We flew into hostile territory, both, the terrorists and the military gunning for us. We came out without a scratch. Those are the only times I turned on stealth, and that too when we crossed the border.’
Zeb had studied Rubin’s file and knew the pilot was good, very good.
‘Can you do it? Get us out, safe?’
‘Yeah,’ Rubin looked him in the eye. ‘When?’
‘Evening of Fourth of July.’
‘You folks were involved in what went down on Marzdaran?’
Zeb got to his feet and held out his hand.
‘Stay ready,’ he told the pilot, deliberately ignoring his question.
‘Well,’ he turned to his friends, hands on his hips. ‘Everything’s in place.’