Mostofi’s makeup expert stepped back when she had finished.
He inspected himself and nodded in satisfaction. His wrinkles had been faded, the natural silver streaks in his hair had been sharpened with dye to give him a stronger look.
‘Hawk, agha. That’s who you resemble,’ she whispered as she packed up.
Hawk. Yes, the Quds boss could see the resemblance. He admired himself for a moment, thanked her and strode out. It was eight pm at the conference center. He had entered through the rear, discreetly and now, it was time for him to present the awards. He was running late by a few minutes but that was okay. He was the star of the show.
The conference organizer and several flunkies sprang up when he exited the room. Salim, his bodyguard gave him his cell phone. Mostofi scrolled through his messages swiftly. The financial markets had gotten wind of Iran’s oil output. Global prices were already down a percentage point. No reaction as yet from the Americans and the British.
They’ll be wondering how we can produce that much.
Nassour had messaged that Golzar had woken up and was ready.
Everything was going to plan.
‘Let’s go,’ he told the organizers.
The twins had rigged a TV screen to show the live telecast of the ceremony. Mostofi appeared on the stage at eight-ten pm to loud applause. The host promptly introduced him, cracked a few jokes and commenced the award ceremony.
Bwana and Roger were still in the SUV, which was parked in a tourist spot in the Lavizan Forest Park which was to the southeast of MUT. Both men were still in their civvies. They would change to Quds uniforms when they switched vehicles.
The Texan smirked knowingly when his friend stifled a yawn and followed the award show on his screen. Bwana was like a wild cat. Relaxed one moment, lethal mode the next.
The presentation finished just after nine pm. Mostofi went into the crowd to press flesh and greet the attendees. A necessary part of his role. Light refreshments were laid out on two long tables on either side of the room. A late dinner would be served only after his speech.
‘It’s an honor to meet you, agha,’ a retired officer greeted him.
‘The honor is mine,’ the Quds boss told him solemnly and led him to the snacks table.
Meghan’s Nargess phone buzzed again.
‘Nothing’s happened,’ Yasaman burst out when she took the call and put it on speaker.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Those packages. Syed and I thought they would do something.’
‘There’s time, Yasaman.’
‘But the university is empty. Just a few students and professors working late.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Good?’
‘Yes. Keep watching the news.’
At nine-thirty, they boarded the chopper, which rolled out of the hangar and took to the air. Rubin flew easily, confidently, his experience showing in the way he feathered the controls.
‘We have time,’ he said, and took them round a loop of the city.
Azadi Tower, lit up. Milad Tower. Golestan Palace. The Presidential Administration Building. The Supreme Leader’s Office.
‘One Hellfire,’ Rubin grinned. ‘That’s all it will take.’
‘We didn’t come here to start a World War,’ Broker growled.
‘Won’t your weapons be visible?’ Chloe peered out of the canopy, checking out the racks at the sides.
‘Not from down below,’ the pilot replied. ‘We are high. The sky is darkening.’
Roger drove to the military van which was parked in a sayan owned garage off Babaei Highway. The owner had closed his hardware store and his parking lot was empty but for his delivery vehicles, nestled between which was their ride.
They climbed into it and changed into their outfits.
‘You’re a major and I’m a mere captain?’ The Texan checked himself out.
‘Yeah,’ Bwana sniggered. ‘Your job is to drive me around.’ He opened the missile case and lifted its contents. Assembled it with swift hands and placed it carefully, nestled on its stand, safe from any jolts.
‘Let’s go.’