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It had started in Hamburg where he was studying nuclear physics on an Iranian Government grant. He had not found the German community particularly welcoming and began to hang out with other foreign students, many of whom were finding social support and friendship at the mosque. Although not religious, Zoran had gone to the mosque occasionally.
Following graduation, he received word through the Iranian Consulate that he would be assigned to the Natanz Nuclear Center, one of Iran’s uranium enrichment installations, and shortly thereafter he was invited to the home of one of his professors, Dr. Klaus Steltzer. The two had formed a close friendship. Steltzer had said that Zoran would be his son’s age now had he not died in childbirth. More often than not, Zoran would have dinner at Steltzer’s house en famille with the beguiling Lisa, the professor’s daughter.
In time, Zoran had revealed his pent up anger at the Iranian regime. Although it had been many years since the mullahs had hung his grandfather for taking a role in the failed creation of a Kurdish State, revenge was a matter of honor with no statute of limitations. His father had not been able to strike the blow himself, and before he passed away, he had handed the responsibility to his son reminding him that the murder was still on the family’s books. Zoran had wisely kept his resentment hidden from Iranian authorities, which had recognized, and rewarded, his scholastic achievements and eventually sent him to the University of Hamburg where Zoran was about to become Dr. Zoran Qazi, Ph.D.
Over several after-dinner sessions, Dr. Steltzer had provided Zoran with the means to get back at the mullahs: report back on the progress being made at Natanz, but without taking undue risks, Steltzer had emphasized. The information would help him in his own research, Steltzer had said, and he could share with Zoran the generous funds that the university was making available for the study. After getting practical experience at Natanz, Zoran could come back to Hamburg where an important position would be waiting for him at the university.
“When you’re ready, when you have a good grasp of the goals and progress so far, then ask for a few days off and travel out of the country, back here if possible,” Steltzer had told him. “If not then go to Dubai or somewhere else in the Gulf. Let me know after you arrive and I’ll meet you there.” That’s when Zoran understood that the final user of his information would not be either Steltzer or his university. Was Steltzer fronting for the German Government? The more obvious sponsor had to be the Americans, the CIA. He knew that Steltzer had done graduate work at M.I.T. During their infrequent political discussions, he and Steltzer agreed that the current Iranian regime was on a dangerous course that could only lead to the further proliferation of nuclear weapons in the region and to their eventual use. But Zoran’s political horizons were narrowly focused on revenge. He was relieved that he had found a way and was confident that it would be easy.
After arriving at the Natanz Center, Zoran became emboldened about the mission. Did Steltzer only want information? Wasn’t the eventual goal to somehow interfere with the project? Whatever Steltzer’s real agenda was, reporting on information to which he had direct access seemed insufficient, passive, what his impotent father would have done. He would cross the debt off the family books; he began to look for sabotage opportunities.
Because a consistent level of power was crucial for the proper function of the centrifuge cascades, he paid a visit to the Tehran offices of Kama Electric, created by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, responsible for the nuclear program, for the express purpose of supplying power to the Natanz Center. He also used a weekend visit to a nearby village famous for its pears to visit the Kama power station, the direct source of electricity for the center. But he didn’t know what to do with his newly acquired knowledge. Sabotaging the power station would require help from one of its employees, impossible in the short run but something to keep in mind.
At the lab back at Natanz, he used his physical access to the centrifuges to stay late and examine the seals that could provide the vulnerability he was looking for. One night, he was taking a replacement P-2 centrifuge apart when a security guard showed up making his rounds. The guard asked him, “Why are you here? Everyone else is gone.”
The guard had surprised him. He knew the guards walked around during their watch but it hadn’t been a serious concern. After all, Zoran had the green colored badge giving him access to this part of the center.
At first, the guards asked Zoran why was he the only one to stay late at the Centrifuge Center. Zoran argued his zeal, seriousness of purpose and loyalty but failed to impress the Director of Security.
Later, he was taken to a Republican Guard building in Tehran, where he had met the notorious Ali Mousavi, a senior Al Quds official and, therefore, very influential in the IRGC. Mousavi had first gained favorable notice during the planning of the 1983 attacks on the American Marines and the destruction of the American Embassy in Beirut killing over three hundred fifty. He later was instrumental in the kidnapping of the CIA Beirut Station chief whom he had tortured and decapitated himself. The Americans’ failure to retaliate proved that they were paper tigers, provided fuel to the jihadist fire, and trampolined Mousavi into a career during which he was responsible for more American deaths than any single terrorist group. It was said that he had the trust of
