Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

January 14

Erbil, Northern Iraq

 

Justin and Azade met up with Vale close to Erbil’s Citadel. He had dropped off Mehmet at the city’s international airport. The man was eager to leave the city, although he promised he was not disappearing and had given Vale a couple of contact numbers.

Hezan took them to a friend’s apartment in the southern part of Erbil, where he had secreted a vault with bank records. In order to protect Azade—in case she was captured and tortured to reveal what she knew—Justin left her with Vale a few blocks away from the apartment. Hezan gave Justin a large cache of documents. They were mostly printouts in Kurdish or Arabic. From a quick glance, Justin could see their immense value. European-sounding names of foreigners, along with what Justin suspected were Turkish or Iraqi officials, seemed to have been receiving payments that amounted to millions of dollars. Justin quickly took pictures of some that seemed to be the crucial ones and uploaded them and other digital files onto the encrypted and secure ECS online server. Then he sent a message to Carrie to have someone analyze the files as soon as possible, to establish all connections between Egorov, al-Gailani, and the illegal oil trade.

Justin then called his trusted Peshmerga contact in Kadjalah. The two Turkish soldiers had been safely returned to their army base. Up to this point, the Turkish army seemed to believe ISIS was behind the soldiers’ kidnapping. Justin muttered a short prayer for that not to change.

He asked the Peshmerga to arrange for someone he trusted to transport al-Farkhan to Erbil and hold him under tight security until he was picked up by someone. Initially, Justin thought about asking Tori to take care of this matter. While Tori had given Justin no reason for suspicion, he was cautious about involving Tori any further. As in the case of Azade, compartmentalization was extremely useful, serving to limit access to information and separate it over a number of agents, assets, and contacts. If one of them fell into the hands of the enemy, at least some of the intelligence was safe, since not one person was in the know about all the moving parts of the operation.

The hardest part came when it was time to say goodbye to Azade. They both knew the inevitable moment was coming, and they tried to ignore it for as long as they could. Vale had clued in to the vibe between Justin and Azade and excused himself, to buy a case of water for the return trip to Turkey.

Justin waited until Vale was out of sight, then leaned against the Nissan. He looked at Azade, who was giving him a melancholic smile. “I guess this is the end of the road. At least for now.”

“Yes, it seems so.”

“Have you . . . have you ever thought of leaving this place?”

“What, like move somewhere else?”

“Yes, leave the war, the sorrow, the pain behind. Start fresh, new, perhaps in Europe or Canada.”

Azade grinned. “You’re not inviting me, are you?”

Justin sighed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Azade.”

“I’m not—no worries. I know about you and Karolin, and I wish you all the best.” A hint of sadness was clear in her low voice.

“And I wish only the best for you too.”

She stepped closer to Justin. “To be completely honest, the thought of leaving has crossed my mind. I’ve had it with people killing, dying, or suffering all around me. But . . . I don’t want to leave my homeland behind. If we all left, who’s going to defend, to build Kurdistan?”

Justin nodded. “You’ve done your part, Azade. You’ve fought and bled for Kurdistan for years. And so have your family, your father, brothers. You’ve done more than your fair share for your homeland. It’s time you find some peace and quiet and love for yourself. Nothing wrong with that.”

Azade nodded back. “But what would I do, Justin? Fighting is all I know, and I really don’t want to be a mall cop in Germany.”

“Of course, not. You’re a young woman of many talents. You can go to school and learn to become whatever you want. I know you like to write. With everything you’ve heard, seen, and experienced, you can put all that on paper.”

“And write a best-seller?”

“Why not?”

“Or I can become a teacher.”

“You’ll be a great teacher.”

Azade smiled, then leaned onto his chest. “Oh, Justin, will I ever see you again?”

“I’m sure we’ll see each other very soon.” He brushed her long black hair out of her face.

When they broke their sweet embrace, Azade’s face had taken on a serious look. “All right, Justin. Let’s find Vale, and then you, and I, can both head home.”

Justin nodded. He did not want to correct Azade with the truth. Carrie had informed him that al-Gailani was confirmed to be in Moscow, seemingly hiding in one of its luxurious hotels. The news had given Justin an idea: if they could not find Egorov, perhaps they could draw her out. If she learned about al-Gailani’s location, she might go after him, especially if she did not suspect a trap. It was a long shot, but Justin and Carrie had decided to try it.

“Do you want to drive?” Azade asked.

“Sure.” He slid into the driver’s seat and turned the car around. Then they drove around the block and found Vale waiting for them outside a street-corner convenience store. “Vale, where’s the case of water?” Justin asked.

Vale grinned. “Oh, yeah, the water. Give me a second, and I’ll get us some.”