Steve was feeling uncomfortable and hoped his face wasn’t turning red.
“You know of course,” the president went on, “that the information that was on the CDs that you gave to the Navy at Fifth Fleet Headquarters in Manama was sent immediately to the National Security Agency. None too soon. They worked on it day and night. Two days later, Iran set off their cyber attack. Unfortunately, we weren’t completely ready.
“However, your information and NSA’s emergency steps prevented a catastrophe. We closed the markets for a day, and took other defensive steps that saved this country months of hard, and costly, rebuilding work.
“XYSENTINEL seems a well chosen cryptonym, and I’d say the man deserves whatever we promised him.”
Tremaine paused a second before revealing another outcome of the XYSENTINEL operation. “The NSA’s ability to reverse engineer the information you managed to relay back to us, in quite harrowing circumstances, is what allowed them to penetrate to the actual sources of the attack through computers in third countries. And, if that weren’t an important enough, it also provided our experts with material they’ll be able to use against Iran, if it comes to that, at a time of our choosing.”
“Mr. President,” Thérèse spoke up, filling in the details of the mission. “The original recruitment was done by Marshall who first encountered SENTINEL in Tehran during the Iranian Revolution in 1979.”
Tremaine grinned, “Like father, like son? I didn’t know there was a special gene for clandestine trade craft.”
He turned to Marshall. “Our country owes you a big debt, Mr. Church. Our country is indebted to all of you.” He embraced all four in his look.
Only a month before, Steve would have reacted defensively to being compared to his father, still overly conscious of his need to make his own independent mark. Today, he just smiled and said, “You may be right about the gene, Mr. President. Could be a topic for a National Institute of Health study. I’m glad to have it. “
“Incredibly,” Thérèse informed the president, “throughout this very tangled operation, XYSENTINEL was not blown. He’s still in place and a confidante of Ali Mousavi, Iran’s Minister of Intelligence. Our plan is to send a full time case officer to handle him but to also provide him with our latest agent communications system so that personal contacts will be less necessary.”
“That’s your call,” the president replied to Thérèse.
“Now,” he said looking at all of them, “the Iranians are making a human tragedy of their failure to capture Steve by claiming that Elizabeth Crossley, the Charge’s wife, was the so-called Satan’s Spy. That’s a loser’s move. We’ll get her out of Iran’s clutches. Of course, once she’s on U.S. territory, our judicial system has a bone to pick with her. Unfortunate woman.” He shook his head.
“That leaves one item,” Tremaine said as he turned his attention back to Steve. “The meeting with the Iranian opposition. You met with the mullah. What do you think?”
Shaking his head, Steve seemed ready to recuse himself from the topic when the president preempted.
“Steve, don’t tell me this is above your pay grade. I’d like your opinion.” Steve paused for an instant, looked at Thérèse, turned back toward Tremaine and said, “Sir, Hafizadeh only claimed to be a spokesman, not a principal. I don’t even know if there is a mullah by that name.”
The president fixed his gaze on Thérèse. “Is there?”
“Yes, there is,” she replied. “Our records confirm that he is close to the so-called moderates.”
“‘So-called,’ hmm?” The president then turned to Steve. “Tell me about him.”
“Hafizadeh struck me as extremely sincere, and” he paused to think of a word, “charismatic. He was willing to take the risk of contacting us but also seemed like someone who weighed risk-taking carefully. They’re not asking us to support a coup, only for recognition after they gain power on their own. Whether to attend the meeting is not my call, obviously.”
The president continued to press Steve, “What would you do? We could be turning off any chance of establishing a dialogue with the Iranian Government if we meet with them.”
“Making direct contact with the opposition ayatollahs,” Steve replied, “would be opening doors to an important part of Iranian society. A meeting in Europe shouldn’t be difficult to arrange. I wouldn’t coordinate the meeting with the host country, which is too apt to leak the information to Tehran for reasons of their own. I suppose that we could fly them to Washington ‘black.’”
The president laughed. “I can see you’re well versed on Iranian realities and our European allies as well. I’m asking the Secretary of State for a recommendation, and we’ll need to review this topic again soon.”
The meeting broke as a photographer walked in to snap the requisite photos. As Steve and Kella were leaving the Oval Office, the president rested an arm across a shoulder of each of them.
“If you two have any important announcements,” he chuckled, “I will be very upset if I’m not invited. Let’s go see my chief of staff.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I benefited from many suggestions and much encouragement in writing Satan’s Spy. Alison Thomas edited the manuscript professionally from beginning to end. Phil Berardelli, publisher of Mountain Lake Press, added some finishing touches.
Readers shared their views and improved the story. Among them were my Junior Officer Trainee colleagues Monty Rogers and Tom Twetten; Ann Gubser, a former Air Force employee; my daughters Thérèse and Elise, my mother-in-law Rita Callahan, and several others who helped edit the manuscript.
I also received support and encouragement from friends and colleagues David Griese, Jack Sontag, Dick Holm, and John Panama, from members of the Northern California chapter of AFIO (Association of Former Intelligence Officers), dedicated to educating the general public on the role of intelligence, and from
