In different circumstances, in another country, Zeb would have led a practice run the next day.
It wasn’t possible in Tehran with all the law enforcement authorities and military hunting for them.
They split up, instead.
Beth and Meghan went to the activists’ hide in the government office. Dariush, Yasaman and Syed, along with a few other students, awaited them.
‘We got him a passport,’ the tech wizard told them.’
‘We got a better one,’ Meghan smiled and showed them the US one that the CIA had rustled up. ‘Dariush is his name. We’ll go with that. American citizen of Iranian origin. Mom’s a doctor in DC, Dad’s a political lobbyist. Home in Georgetown. You came to visit your extended family,’ she briefed him. ‘Their home is in Niavaran.’
They walked the dissident through his cover story, made him repeat it till he had gotten every detail right, and then interrogated him.
‘Can he stay here?’ Beth asked the activists after several hours. ‘We’ll pick him up from here tomorrow. We don’t want to risk him going out.’
‘Yes,’ Yasaman pointed to the make-shift beds at the rear. ‘We often camp out when needed.’
‘How about you?’ she asked Golzar’s look-alike.
‘I am coming to terms with it,’ the student said slowly. ‘I’ve been in Tehran all my life. These are my friends—’
‘And that had better not change,’ Yasaman snapped at him.
‘It won’t,’ he hugged her. ‘But life won’t be the same again.’
‘It won’t. It will be better.’
For you. She didn’t say the words. She didn’t have to. He embraced her and cried on her shoulder.
‘You think he has it in him?’ Beth asked her sister when they left the office.
‘Yeah. Zarhagi’s people are special.’
Bear and Chloe arrived at the airport, separately.
She checked out the various airline counters while he inspected the various approaches to the disabled restroom. Soldiers gave each of them passing glances, but the burqa clad woman and the elderly man hobbling on his stick weren’t of interest.
‘Lots of them,’ he whispered as he watched the guards stop a foreign couple and examine their passports.
‘Fourth isn’t far away. Mostofi will blanket the city with his men and get police to do the same.’
‘Our covers will hold out for tomorrow?’
‘Yeah,’ she said confidently. ‘The Supreme Leader’s security forces. Not even Quds will stop us.’
Zeb tried out the harness in a CIA safe house and practiced his moves. He went through the entire sequence in his mind until he could execute the drill with his eyes closed.
‘You know,’ Broker stifled a yawn. ‘There’s a difference between real practice and jumping about in a house.’
‘You got anything useful to contribute?’
That shut his friend up.
Bwana and Roger were in the military van checking out the missile. They assembled it and broke it down swiftly, long years of practice making their hands move with ease.
‘I’m going to use this baby,’ the large operative patted the weapon as he replaced it in its case. ‘Y’all will have to arm wrestle me if you want to fire it.’
Roger squinted at his friend, at his biceps bunching underneath his Tee. Only Bear stood a chance against Bwana.
‘You can have it,’ he said expansively. ‘I’ll be with Zeb, on the roof.’
They rendezvoused at Naeem’s, dining together in the restaurant for the first time while Clare came on conference call.
‘CDC’s made progress,’ their boss informed them. ‘They say it’s the deadliest virus they have come across. Death toll of thousands in just one day, once it’s active. It can wipe out cities and states before a vaccine can be found. Mostofi came up with the ultimate weapon this time.’
Unless we stop him, Zeb thought bleakly.