72

David pulled into an Iran Telecom switching station on the edge of the city.

The facility itself and the equipment inside had been heavily damaged by the earthquake, and the parking lot was filled with the trucks of Iran Telecom staff and contractors who had come to get the place back in working condition.

David found Esfahani on the second floor, wearing a hard hat and assessing the extent of the damage with a group of repairmen. He caught the executive’s eye and held up his right hand, indicating he had the five remaining satellite phones with him. Esfahani excused himself from his colleagues and took David aside.

“Where are they?” Esfahani asked.

“They’re in my trunk.”

“How quickly can you get all the rest of them here?”

“All 313?”

“Exactly.”

“I really don’t know if that’s possible.”

“Look, Reza, we don’t have a lot of time,” Esfahani said. “Things are moving very rapidly now. I will go to the Chinese if I have to, but I want to work with you, so long as you understand we have to move fast.”

“I completely understand,” David said. “I know you’re under a huge time constraint. I’m just saying we have to be careful. Do you know how hard it was to get these twenty without drawing suspicion from within my company, much less from all the international intelligence agencies who are watching everything that comes in and out of this country like hawks?”

“The Chinese couldn’t care less about international intelligence agencies,” Esfahani said.

“But you have to,” David said, taking a risk. “Look, these phones aren’t for just anyone. They’re for the Lord of the Age, correct? Shouldn’t he have the very best?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll be blunt. The Chinese phones stink. I mean, they’ll do if you’re a business guy trying to sell steel or cars or toys or whatever. But you told me you needed state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Then you need me, not the Chinese,” David assured him. “We just have to make sure we do it the right way so you don’t invite scrutiny that you don’t need and I don’t get caught by my company. We have to do it in a way that provides Imam al-Mahdi and his team with exactly what they need so they can talk without Beijing or the Russians or, Allah forbid, the Americans or the Zionists listening in.”

“You’re right,” Esfahani said. “We need to be careful.”

“You’re trying to help the Mahdi—peace be upon him—build an army,” David continued. “I want to help you. I want to be part of changing history. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll get you whatever you need. You have my word.”

“I appreciate that. Now let me see what you brought me,” Esfahani said.

David took him to the car, opened the trunk, and gave him the five boxes.

Esfahani opened one and smiled. “These are nice.”

“Best in the world.”

“My people back in Tehran scrubbed the ones you gave them this morning,” Esfahani said, leafing through one of the instruction manuals. “They said they’re all clean.”

“They are. I checked them all myself before I brought them from Munich. This is the very same phone the chancellor of Germany uses, and the president of France, and the prime minister of Italy, and all of their top staff. And believe me, the Europeans don’t want the Americans or Israelis intercepting their calls either.”

“You’ve done well, Reza. I am very grateful.”

“It’s an honor to help my country,” David said. “I want only the best for my people.”

“I believe that’s true,” Esfahani said, taking the five boxes to his own car and locking them in the trunk. “Which is why I want to tell you something.”

Then Esfahani quietly explained what the Group of 313 was and why he and Rashidi were searching for devout Shia Muslims who possessed strong administrative and technical skills and would be completely loyal to the Mahdi.

“We are recruiting an army of ten thousand mujahideen ready to give their lives to annihilate Tel Aviv, Washington, New York, and Los Angeles and usher in the reign of the Promised One.”

David didn’t dare say anything that might get Esfahani suspicious. “How can I join?” he asked after a few moments.

“No one joins,” Esfahani said. “You must be chosen.”

“But you could recommend me.”

“We are considering you. Mr. Rashidi will decide. But if you can deliver all these phones quickly, I think you will win his confidence and his recommendation.”

David couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and he wondered what Zalinsky would say.

“I will do my best to earn that honor.”

“I know you will. In the meantime, I want you to learn from a master. He is one of our greatest scholars and he lives close to here. You will spend the evening there; there are no hotels available anyway. Tomorrow, I expect you to start working on the rest of the phones we require. But for tonight, you will sit at a master’s feet and learn about our beloved Imam.”

“Who is he?”

“He is a great teacher. He also happens to be related to Daryush.”

David immediately knew whom he meant, but he said nothing.

“Have you ever heard of Dr. Alireza Birjandi?” Esfahani asked.

“Of course,” David said. “I recently read one of his books. But isn’t he living in seclusion?”

“I think he would like to meet you. He is a professor at heart, and he loves bright, young, eager minds.”

“I couldn’t impose on him.”

“It is all arranged. You should bring the man some food. It is never acceptable to visit empty-handed.”

“That is very gracious,” David said. “May Allah bless you and your family. May I ask one more question before I leave?”

“Of course,” Esfahani said. “What is it?”

“Did Imam al-Mahdi actually reveal himself here in Hamadan?”

“Yes, he did,” Esfahani said. “It was astounding!”

“Did he really heal a woman who had her legs crushed in the earthquake?”

“Yes, he did. Everyone has been talking about it.”

“But how do you know it’s really true?” David asked. “I’m always a little skeptical about what I hear on the news.”

“You are a very wise and thoughtful young man,” Esfahani answered. “But I didn’t hear it on the news.”

“How then?”

“I was there.”