47

David put on his Bluetooth headset and speed-dialed Zalinsky.

He got Eva instead. “Where’s Jack?”

“In a meeting.”

“I need him, fast.”

“He’s in with Tom. They don’t want to be disturbed. Jack told me to take your call. Where are you?”

“I’m heading east toward a town called Alamdasht. I saw a dusty side road not far from there. I have a guest with me.”

“A guest?”

“Morteza Yaghoubi.”

He briefly explained, then found the side road, pulled off the highway, and drove another couple of miles until he found a small stand of trees surrounding a tiny pond that seemed, at least for now, well out of view of any human being. He backed the car beneath the trees and turned off the engine. There, he opened Yaghoubi’s mobile phone, pulled out his SIM card, stuck it into his own phone for a moment, and uploaded all of the data to Eva. Then he replaced his own SIM card and restored Yaghoubi’s phone. Next, he riffled through the guy’s wallet, snapped a photo of his driver’s license and another of his IRGC ID, and uploaded those to Eva as well.

“So what’s your plan?” Eva asked as she downloaded all the data, half a world away.

“Motivate this guy to talk. See what he knows.”

“Motivate, huh?”

“Hey, it’s not like I can send him to Gitmo just now.”

“No, I guess not.”

“What do we know about him so far?”

There was a pause as Eva pulled up his file. “Morteza Yaghoubi, thirty-four years old, born in Tehran, unmarried, no children, has served in the intelligence division for twelve years,” Eva began. “So far, he sounds like me.”

“Very funny,” David said, not laughing. “Keep going, come on.”

“Okay, hold your horses. I’m getting there,” she said, pulling up more data. “Started out in the al-Quds Force. Trained Hezbollah suicide bombers in the Bekaa Valley. Supplied IEDs to the Mahdi Army in Iraq. Trained Mahdi Army insurgents how to wage ambushes against US forces in Fallujah and Mosul. Was wounded in a botched attack on a Red Cross convoy outside of Baghdad. Was then assigned to the military police unit at Facility 278 two years ago. From what it says here, it would seem he was part of the personal security detail for Dr. Saddaji. Expert marksman. Twice decorated.”

“Sounds like a prince. Anything else?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t let him out of the trunk.”

“Good point.”

“I’ll cut and paste what seems relevant and e-mail it to you.”

“Thanks. Now let’s go through his phone.”

“I’m already on it,” Eva said. “My computer is cross-checking any names and numbers in his phone directory with our database.”

“Any hits?”

“Well, not surprisingly, he’s got the phone numbers for the other three MPs back in that hotel—if they’re still there.”

“E-mail me those,” David said. “That could come in handy. What else?”

“He’s got all of Najjar’s numbers in Hamadan.”

“Makes sense.”

“The rest look like friends, family, other colleagues, but no one else we have in our records.”

“Do me a favor and search for Javad Nouri.”

“I already have,” Eva replied, explaining that she had already searched for any of the names and numbers David had previously given them.

“What about Firouz Nouri and the other guy, Jamshad? I don’t have those.”

“He doesn’t either.”

“Okay, that’s enough. I’m going to open the trunk and pour a bucket of water over this guy’s head.”

“Be careful.”

“Don’t worry.”

He picked up the pistol off the passenger seat beside him and made sure the safety was disengaged. Then he chambered a round and got out of the car.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Of course,” Eva said.

“Good. Stay on the line. If this goes bad, at least you’ll know what happened and where to find my body.”

He walked to the water’s edge and looked for something he could fill with water. “You can never find a good bowl or a hat when you need one,” he said, rooting around the area for anything he could use.

“Story of my life,” Eva quipped.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. I’m getting a little punchy. Give me something to do. I can’t just sit here and wait until this guy jumps out of the trunk at you with a meat cleaver or something.”

“Thanks. Fine. Look up some more numbers.”

“Which ones?”

“I don’t know,” David said. “Hey, look, I found an old pop can. Maybe this will work.”

He filled it with pond water and had a thought.

“Try Jalal Zandi,” he said, carrying the pop can of water back to the trunk.

“Sorry,” Eva said. “Nothing.”

“Okay, how about Tariq Khan?”

He had just gotten back to the Peugeot and was about to open the trunk when Eva’s tone changed completely. “That’s it, David. We got a hit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tariq Khan,” she said. “He’s got his mobile number and e-mail address in his phone.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“Can you run a trace through the Iran Telecom system and find Khan’s phone?”

“I’m doing that now. Hold on.”

David set down the pop can and studied the pistol. He was glad to have it but hoped he didn’t have to use it. He had trained for all eventualities, and he was ready if he needed to be. But he had just killed men for the first time the week before in Tehran, and it was still haunting him. He’d be fine if he never had to do that again.

“Got it,” Eva exclaimed.

“Can you triangulate its position and tell me exactly where Khan is?”

“I don’t believe this,” Eva said.

“You got him?”

“You’re not going to believe this either.”

“Why? Where is he?”

“The Delvar Hotel,” Eva said. “He’s on the second floor.”

* * *

Jerusalem, Israel

Naphtali was set to meet with his Security Cabinet.

But as promised, he met first with Levi Shimon for a light breakfast of coffee, yogurt, and some fruit.

“The answer is no,” Shimon said immediately as they sat down.

“Levi, that’s not acceptable.”

“I’m sorry, Asher, but I can’t tell you the details of our asset in Tehran. It goes against all IDF and Mossad protocols and it’s dangerous, and you know it. Look, either you trust me or you don’t. And I’m telling you, I trust Mordecai. He’s been right every time. We’ve tested and challenged him in a dozen different ways. If he was a double, we’d know it. If he was a fraud, we’d have figured that out by now. He’s the real thing, Asher. Like Mordecai in the book of Hadassah, he has been chosen by Yahweh Himself to save us from the Persians. What does the Tanakh really tell us about Mordecai, right? We know he was a Jew in Susa, the capital of the empire at that time. We know he was the son of Jair, the son of Shimei, the son of Kish, a Benjamite who had been taken into exile from Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar. We know he was Hadassah’s older cousin but that he raised her as his own daughter. We know he was wise and resourceful and that the Lord gave him unique insight into the mind of the enemy and how to counter him. That’s it. That’s all we know. Yet isn’t that enough?”

“Not for Hadassah,” the prime minister countered. “She didn’t trust him blindly. She knew everything about Mordecai because she was raised by him, which is why she listened to him. And besides, he was Jewish, just like her. He was in exile, just like her. They had a common heritage. They were facing a common threat and the same fate. What about your Mordecai, your man in Susa, as it were? Is he Jewish?”

“Of course not.”

“Is he going to perish with us if Iran fires eight nuclear warheads at us?”

“No.”

“Then why should I trust him?”

* * *

Near Alamdasht, Iran

David jumped back in the car and started the engine.

“Reposition the Predator over the hotel,” he told Eva.

“I can’t do that.”

“You have to. I’m going back to the hotel, and I’m going to need as much intel as I can get.”

“Only Jack is authorized to retask the Predator.”

“Then get him,” David ordered as he drove down the dirt road.

“He’s in a meeting.”

“Pull him out.”

“He’s in a knock-down, drag-out fight with Tom.”

“Over what?”

“The president is refusing to let Roger share with the Israelis what we’ve learned about the two warheads the Iranians have in the Med.”

“We’re not talking to the Israelis about it?”

“No.”

“Why not? That’s crazy. They’re the best ally we have over here.”

“That’s Jack’s point. He’s trying to tell Tom we have a moral obligation to tell the Israelis—off the record, at least—what we know, even if the president has forbidden any official briefing, but Tom’s not buying it.”

David pulled onto Route 37 again, heading west into Khorramabad. He was infuriated with the president and with Murray, and he was fearful for the Israelis, who were in growing danger of being blindsided. But at the moment, he didn’t have time for politics. “Eva, I don’t care how you do it. I need that Predator over that hotel in the next ten minutes. Just make it happen. I’m counting on you.”

He hung up and sped back to the hotel, trying to develop a plan. His first problem was that Morteza Yaghoubi was going to be waking up soon in his trunk. The guy was a trained killer. What exactly was he supposed to do with him? If he left him in there, Yaghoubi would soon be screaming bloody murder until someone came to get him or until David put a bullet in his forehead. But he didn’t want to kill him. Not unless he had to. The man was the enemy, but David was now a follower of Jesus. Wasn’t he supposed to love his enemies? Still, he couldn’t just dump him at the side of the road. If he got to a phone and alerted anyone, David was a dead man. That said, Yaghoubi was the least of his worries.

David was about to take on three IRGC operatives who were equally vicious, each of whom was armed and incredibly dangerous. Even if he could figure out a way to isolate Khan and get him away from the others to interrogate him—something he still wasn’t sure how to do—he couldn’t figure out how to do it without killing at least one of the four operatives, and maybe all four. Again, if even one of them made a phone call to the missile base, he was a dead man. If a hotel guest overheard any of them fighting or struggling or even raising his voice, he was a dead man.

David assessed his options, but there weren’t many. He had no way to tie up any of the men or keep them quiet, and the CIA special forces team was still two hours away.

He got back to the hotel and pulled into an alley on the opposite side of the building from the parking garage. His phone rang. He took it on the Bluetooth again so there was no chance of Yaghoubi overhearing.

“It’s done,” Eva said. “I’m streaming the live feed to your phone now.”

He opened the video feature on his phone and punched in a passcode that allowed him to receive a video stream rather than send one. A moment later, he was looking at pictures directly from the Predator, three miles above them.

“Can you switch to thermal imaging?” he asked.

“Sure, one second. . . . Okay, there—can you see it?”

“Yes—got it.”

He could now see two of the Revolutionary Guard security men in room 203. He could also see Khan and another security man in room 201, though he couldn’t tell which was which. What was the best way into 201? He could pose as a room service guy, but that had risks. He’d have to wait for them to order, and he’d have to intercept the actual hotel employee, and what would he do with him? David immediately ruled that out. Another option was posing as a maintenance man. But under what pretext could he try to do repairs in room 201 so early in the morning without raising suspicions? He ruled that out as well.

Even if he could get the men in 201 to open the door, was there a way to get Khan out without alerting the men next door? He had a silencer. But he’d have to kill the security man, and what if he screamed? What if Khan yelled? And which one was Tariq Khan? He’d never even seen a decent image of the man. True, he had photos of all the IRGC operatives, but he couldn’t take the risk that he’d kill Khan by mistake or in the cross fire.

He remembered he had Yaghoubi’s key. Maybe it was to room 201. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. No such luck. It was stamped with the number 203. So that was that.

David turned off the engine. He took the pistol off the passenger seat and put it in his jacket pocket, got out of the car, and locked the door. Then he reentered the hotel through the side hallway, carefully stepping over the room-service tray. The lobby was empty and quiet, and the clerk was nowhere to be seen, so he ducked into the stairwell and double-timed it to the second floor, pausing at the exit door to draw his weapon and make sure again the safety was off.