Chapter Thirty-One

OUTSIDE FARMVILLE, VIRGINIA

The two old warriors sat beside each other on the second-story porch of General Sam’s log cabin. Bullfrogs were beginning their late afternoon cacophony. It blended with the sounds of the crickets to create what seemed to Farrokh Nassiri’s ears an exquisite music, a sort of natural symphony.

The lake before them was perfectly calm except for the occasional bass braking the surface in pursuit of a dragonfly, or a small bullfrog making the fatal mistake of trying to cross through the big bass’s territory. The old Iranian watched it all and thought of Zari . . . wondered where she was and what she was seeing. He wondered if she was safe.

General Sam broke the silence. “My friend, how about a ride around the lake and up through the woods? This time of day brings the fauna out; deer, and fox, and woodchucks. It will do you good and I can tell you a bit more about the Battle of Sailor’s Creek. It was a Civil War battle fought on this very spot. I don’t get many visitors here since the Cold War ended, so my story-telling skills could use a little polish. Would you allow me to practice them on you?”

The Iranian looked silently at the general for a moment as if trying to force his mind to focus on what he had just been asked to do. Then he smiled and responded.

“Yes, my friend. That would be a nice way to spend the remaining hour . . . before dark consumes this lovely Virginia woods.”

“Good. I’ll bring the Gator up straight away.”

GENERAL SAM WALKED CAREFULLY down the steps to the porch, taking care to hold onto the handrail. He followed a path of paving stones and disappeared around the corner of the house. Less than three minutes later, he was at the bottom of the steps, the little John Deere’s engine growling at idle.

“Max and I await your company, if you are not afraid to ride with an old driver,” General Sam quipped. “I’ll warn you, though. I have been known to occasionally get this thing stuck in the low places.”

The Iranian scientist moved to the steps and, like the general, held the handrails as he negotiated each step to the awaiting vehicle. He seated himself in the passenger seat and said nothing. The general eased it into gear and they started down the path around the lake. Max, the German shepherd, trotted along beside as if this were the highlight of his day.

As they neared the far side of the lake, a small flock of a half dozen turkeys scrambled across the trail. They flew off through the woods as the Gator got close.

Nassiri shook his head. “What magnificent birds.”

“We are in accord,” the general said. “Benjamin Franklin thought the turkey had the perfect character to be America’s national bird.”

The Iranian scientist nodded. He didn’t reply.

They rode a little farther and Max took the lead as if to say, “You old guys are too slow.” A deer jumped from hiding and Max gave chase.

Nassiri followed him with his eyes. “Will he come back?”

“Oh, yes.” The general chuckled. “He is just showing off for you.”

They sat for a moment awaiting Max’s return. General Sam leaned forward on the Gator’s wheel.

“I was in Iran during the time of the shah,” he said. “I spent several weeks there when I was doing some work for the Department of Defense. I enjoyed my time there, but I have not been back.”

“So you know my country.” Nassiri’s face broke into a smile. “Where did you go?”

“Oh, I was in Tehran most of the time, but I spent a couple of days out at Merhebad Airbase. I was there to discuss the future of our intelligence cooperation with the shah’s government. Your country was a key region for collection against the Soviets. In fact, my friend, your country was, for many years, the closest ally the US had in the region. Did you know Iran has voted with the United States in UN votes more than nearly any country in the world? I am saddened by what the current leadership has done to Iran.”

“Yes.” Nassiri nodded slowly. “ Yes, you are quite correct. It is sad what has happened in Iran since the return of the Ayatollah Khomeini in 1979. He was supposed to be the savior of our people and our culture. But he became a brutal dictator who abused and enslaved the masses. Most of the population there now lives in fear. And today his disciples want to spread their sharia law across the globe and to destroy Israel. They must be stopped.”

He paused briefly and stared for a moment into the open meadow next to the Gator and then turned back to General Sam.

“I know your government needs the information I have in order to do just that: stop them. But I cannot contribute to the death of my own daughter and that is what my Zari is to me: a daughter. If you fire missiles or drop bombs, the places where that will be done is too close to where I believe she is hiding.”

General Sam nodded and patted the steering wheel.

“Colonel, you are a man of honor and I understand. I believe there is an effort underway right now to see that your Zari is reunited with you. If my hunch is correct, the man who has gone to save her is the best we have. After all, he brought you here against the odds.”

“Then it will all be for the best,” Nassiri said.

“Then it shall.”