16

AS I WAS TRYING to figure out how I had gotten to Fort Detrick and, more importantly, why I had been there, the forensic data showed Dariush Parizad was traveling first class to Princess Juliana International Airport in Saint Martin and then to Inagua International Airport on the Bahamanian island of Great Inagua. By definition, practically every flight to this southernmost island of the Bahamas, juxtaposed between Cuba and Haiti, was international.

The runway had been hardened in 1994 when the United States was preparing to invade Haiti. The U.S. Army had over fifty Black Hawk and Apache helicopters that had self-deployed from Homestead Air Reserve Base to Great Inagua, the most remote and uninhabited island of the Bahamas, and were ready to pick up the three thousand paratroopers that were jumping into Port-au-Prince’s airport and an offset drop zone.

Today, Great Inagua was still a sleepy hollow, but the airfield contributed to a small and growing wildlife adventure industry. Fly fishing, hiking, bird-watching, and treasure hunting were the main attractions on this seashell-encrusted bump in the ocean floor.

Another attraction was that it was off the radar for almost every customs official and a perfect place for Parizad to fly under an assumed name—Raj Kameen—who claimed to be a treasure hunter. Ever since the Spanish galleon Infanta and its $20 billion in gold and silver had been discovered by treasure hunters off the coast of Great Inagua three years before, the small island’s popularity had been increasing.

Parizad spent a day diving through a local service, using a captain named George Hamilton, who incuriously read mystery novels while Parizad was exploring the reefs. After the dive, Hamilton didn’t notice that a doppelgänger had boarded instead of Parizad himself, who had swum a half mile to a waiting forty-two-foot Hatteras deep-sea-fishing vessel. The doppelgänger was an Immortal cell team member who had infiltrated to Orlando seven years ago. His appearance reasonably passed for Parizad, and the two men swapped boats as a method of infiltration for Parizad to enter the United States undetected.

Under Soleimani’s tutelage, Parizad had engineered the infiltration of Immortal teams into the United States, mainly through Venezuela and Central America. There were seventeen Iranians who had been living in America for over three years, all in preparation for a time when they would be activated. They owned homes and had jobs, even though special bank accounts had been established for them to maintain a reasonable lifestyle.

Parizad had chosen the name Immortal based upon the nickname the Greeks had given the heroic Persian fighters who had helped Darius I conquer India in 520 B.C.

The underwater tap in and tap out went smoothly. The boat had been chartered out of Miami, and so there was no suspicion when it came back on its regularly scheduled time at 5:00 p.m. the following day from its departure. Safely in Miami, a man named Arshad picked Parizad up from the Dinner Key Marina and drove him to an Iranian safe house in the Olympia Heights neighborhood west of Miami.

The house was a single-story, four-bedroom rambler with beige stucco and a white picket fence that framed the entire yard, including the driveway. Houses were modest, yet in the $300,000–$400,000 range. It was a perfect place to blend in. Arshad owned a bakery and small farm five miles away. The farm was twenty acres, sporting a thriving mix of tomatoes, oranges, broccoli, and strawberries. Monthly, the urban dwellers of Miami made a pilgrimage to Arshad Farms, where they picked whatever was in season.

The beginning of Soleimani’s plan to infiltrate the United States, Arshad had been in the country for twelve years. He had arrived with a bank account flush with a never-ending supply of $8,999 deposits and a starting balance of $950,000, which allowed him to buy the land next to the Everglades and the house, both when the prices were half their value of today’s.

Arshad was forty years old, a man of medium height with thick black hair, a dark complexion, and black eyes. His hands were nicked and calloused from farming. His arms and chest were muscled, and he was physically fit. He had been in the United States long enough to establish citizenship, which allowed him to purchase any number of AR-15s and Sig M400s, which were M4 knockoffs. The back room of the house was an armory, filled with assault rifles, pistols, and ammunition. Parizad didn’t believe he would need any of the weapons—someone else was tasked with doing his bidding—but it never hurt to be armed and ready to go.

In the second bedroom was a collection of small, lightweight drones. There was an assortment of DJI and ARRIS drones uniformly lined up.

“I trust your crops are doing well?” Parizad asked.

“Business is thriving,” Arshad replied.

“Good. We cannot have any disruptions in your services.”

“In January, all we have are broccoli and cabbage for picking and harvest,” Arshad said.

“And the bakery?”

“My staff is on top of everything, but I will continue my routine.”

“My car?” Parizad asked.

“Your car is the gray Buick Enclave. I’ve put less than two hundred miles on it. The plates are registered to me. No tickets.”

“I would prefer your name not be involved.”

“Likewise, but there is no option without raising suspicion. If I get a friend to do it, that is someone I have to kill. If I use a cutout name and identification, it’s possible that could be uncovered. Once the mission is complete, we can see what the blowback is, if any. I can handle it. It is important you obey the speed limits and traffic regulations. Here is your phone, also registered to me. Your Apple ID and password are typed into the notes function. Memorize it and delete it. I’ve placed a backup battery on it for you. It works. I’ve been using it for about a week to establish a pattern of use. Helps with blending in. I’ve paired the Bluetooth with the Buick. On the back of the phone is a pouch with your driver’s license, which is your picture on my information. As you instructed, I have kept my Instagram and Facebook accounts family oriented, showing neighborhood parties and my businesses. The app is active on this phone. Same username and password. The Immortal teams check their accounts every day, awaiting your word.”

“I have become you,” Parizad said. “And you will suffer the wrath of the aftermath. That was not my intention.”

“Yes, but I knew that when I accepted this assignment ten years ago. It is no matter. The events of the last year have convinced me now more than ever that our time is now. I am prepared for whatever comes next.” Arshad motioned toward the arms room.

Parizad nodded, took the keys, and loaded what he needed into the Buick, which required him to lay the back seat flat to carry everything required for the mission. He laid a blanket over the equipment and backed out of the driveway as Arshad held the white picket fence open for him.

As he shifted into drive, he buzzed down the window and said, “Be ready when I call you.”

“I will,” Arshad said.

Before he reached I-95, the smartphone chirped with a call from Arshad.

“I’ve just received a message that Sinclair has escaped.”