Each carried a small backpack with fruits and kebabs from Maryam. They all wore jeans or khakis. Neither Kella nor Farah wore a hijab since they did not expect to be in the public eye. Naurouz had a large flashlight in one hand. They went through a gate in the back wall of the garden and walked through an empty lot.
A group of six men met them. The leader and Naurouz exchanged a few words, and Naurouz led Steve and the women another one hundred yards to the side of a hill from which water issued from an underground tunnel into an irrigation ditch. Next to a five by three foot entrance were several pairs of rubber boots.
“Help yourselves to the boots. Here,” he passed out flashlights.
“They are much too big,” Farah said. “I don’t know if I can walk in these.”
Naurouz produced a pair of socks that she stuffed in her boots before putting them back on.
While they put the boots on, Naurouz said, “This is like the metro. We’ll take this qanat for a short distance to get to another qanat that will take us beyond the road blocks. Then we’ll come out and meet Leila.”
Naurouz faced away from them, lowered his head and seemed to say a prayer. Then, they all followed the powerful beam of his flashlight into the tunnel entrance, the first ten to fifteen feet of which were reinforced with stone. They had to stoop, and after a few minutes, Farah said, “This was made for midgets. I ache already.”
“Try to bend your knees more and keep your back straight,” Naurouz told her.
The channel was straight and moderately inclined. They waded through the water except where a narrow path a few inches higher than the water occasionally flanked the narrow stream of the qanat. The tunnel was higher in the middle and they soon preferred to walk in the water.
After an hour, Naurouz stopped at a ladder going up about ten feet. Beyond it was the sky. “This is a ventilation shaft. We’re going to change metros here. We’ll have to walk through a farming village. Keep quiet. Don’t talk,” he warned them.
Naurouz went up first. They emerged near an unlit road and walked along the side, passing several houses recessed from the road twenty or thirty feet. Their lights were on, and the travelers could hear voices and music and see the occasional reflection of TV screens through open windows. Cars went by in both directions, but there were few pedestrians.
Farah called out, “I’m going to take off these boots. Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”
The cars’ headlights outlined her against the dark sky, and the houses on the side of the road. Standing on one foot, she tried to pull one boot off when she started to lose her balance.
When she tried to steady herself, she tripped over the loose bottom half of the boot and fell toward the road. At the same time, a car approached in her direction and nearly struck her before she could move away.
The sound of the tires as the car came to a screeching halt, and an involuntary scream from Farah prompted Naurouz, Steve, and Kella to stop and look back. As they all ran back, the car door opened, and the driver stepped out.
More embarrassed and angry than hurt, Farah got up brushing herself off and looked up to see Kharazzi staring at her down his hawk-like nose.
“Farah?” he called out while taking stock of her without hijab to cover her tousled black hair or chador to hide her curves. Her face was flushed, making her look even more desirable than the first time he had seen her in town.
“Come, I will drive you to my house. I live nearby, and you can explain to me what you’re doing out here like this,” he said like a stern but patient father.
“You!” she shouted in surprise and frustration. The emotions she had controlled during their last meeting came pouring out. By then, Kella, Steve, and Naurouz had reached them.
Kharazzi stepped back and smiled. “So, I was right. You are helping the American. Naurouz? You, too? So Jemshid is in on this? The Zoroastrian Mafia! I will save you time. All of you get in my car, and I will take you to the police.”
Her anger spilling over, Farah took a running lunge and hit Kharazzi with a closed fist. He saw it coming and moved at the last instant so she missed his prominent nose and hit his Adam’s apple.
Unable to breathe, his face reddened and his knees buckled slowly, as he brought both hands to his throat, his eyes wide open at Farah in astonishment.
“Come on,” Steve said. He grabbed Kharazzi and dragged him to the side of the road. He then motioned everyone toward the black car, and he got in the driver’s seat.
“Naurouz, where is the next ventilation shaft?”
Five minutes later, they abandoned the car in a field as Naurouz took them down stairs to another qanat.
They quickly splashed through the entrance and kept moving as long as they could. After fifteen minutes, Farah said, “I have to stop. Wait.” Breathing heavily, she leaned against the wall of the tunnel. “Did you feel that?” she asked. Since no one answered, she concentrated on regaining her breath.
Naurouz tensed suddenly. “Quiet,” he said. “Do you hear people in back?”
They stopped moving and held their breath. Farah managed to quiet her complaining lungs for an instant. The tunnel and the water clearly carried voices from the direction they had come.
They heard a shout that bounced over the water and down the tunnel against the clay walls. “Farah, stop! I
