So they’d made their plans and left Mehry’s home, a little later than planned, because their car had developed some sort of mechanical fault that Yousef couldn’t fix. They’d intended to get on the road early, and none of the garages were open, so Mehry traded cars with them. Shirin had protested. “Mother, what will you use?”
“I’ll ring Yashar once his garage is open. I’m sure he can come round today and fix it.” Yousef and Shirin had a Chinese-made Cowin, their first purchase as a married couple. It was a little extravagant, and much nicer than her mother’s twelve-year-old Peykan.
It had taken only moments to shift their luggage, and they drove off, only half an hour behind schedule.
Shirin kept it inside until they were outside of town. They’d driven silently for a while, each with their own thoughts. Finally, Yousef said, “It’s good we can leave her with the Cowin. It’s a much better car… ”
And she’d started to cry. Clutching Yousef s arm as he drove, she sobbed into his shoulder, breathing in gasps. All her worries, the fear, and the grief of parting poured out of her. She tried to speak, and Yousef did his best to listen, but he could understand only a word here and there. One question barely squeaked out, “Will she be safe?”
“I don’t know, probably,” Yousef half lied. The Pasdaran weren’t usually kind to family members of traitors. He had no concerns for his own mother; the woman who had lovingly raised him had been gone for over a year. Her body still functioned, but Alzheimer’s had destroyed her mind. She no longer remembered him, and could barely talk. Yousef relived the pain he felt when he told her she was going to be a grandmother and all she did was stare vacantly and drool. Death would be more merciful.
An eternity later, when Shirin had finally stopped crying, she drew a slow breath and said quietly, “Yousef, I’m very afraid. For mother, the baby, for you, and me.”
Her admission shocked him. She’d always been as determined as him, as passionate about their cause as he was, although for her own reasons. Both were scared, of course, but they’d never spoken of it. He thought of her as the strong one.
He had to say something. “It’s a simple plan,” he finally said. “We drive along the beach. We stop for a walk to admire the sunset, and happen to meet some strangers. Who happen to be wearing wet suits. And have a submarine.”
She laughed in spite of her tears. “Oh, well, that’s fine, then. I love walks on the beach.” There was nervousness in her voice, but she was smiling. “I am glad we left our car with mother. This thing smells.”
“It may smell, but the Peykan doesn’t have any tracking devices on it,” Yousef replied. “Remember yesterday, after we arrived and I went out to check the engine? There were marks on the lower body — streaks where the dirt had been rubbed off. I couldn’t see anything underneath, but you never really know how small those devices can be. They could listen to what we say, track our location, and perhaps even disable the engine if they wanted to. I suspected as much.
“That’s when I put the dirt in the Cowin’s fuel filter. Our car will tell Rahim and his jackals that we are staying at your mother’s for the next three days. And if we miss the meeting tomorrow, we will stay at the hotel for the next two nights and have a nice excursion by the shore. We can return to your mother’s house, and then go back to Natanz with nobody the wiser.”
She shook her head. “No. If they aren’t ‘wiser’ now, they will be soon. I can’t describe how nervous I was when I arranged my leave. The security people lectured me for half an hour, and Major Rahim himself kept ‘passing by,’ asking questions about my mother and our plans, especially when we’d be back. The whole time, my stomach was in knots.” She hugged herself. “We can’t go back. I couldn’t say good-bye to mother like that again.”
“If this doesn’t work — ” She lowered her voice. “If the Americans don’t meet us tomorrow tonight, we have to escape on our own. We get a boat — rent, buy, or steal one and just leave. You know what’s waiting for us. We can’t go back!”
Yousef wanted to agree. With freedom a possibility, the thought of returning to Natanz repelled him. But crossing the gulf in a small boat? Two hundred kilometers of open water with a pregnant wife? And there were Pasdaran patrol boats, on the lookout for spies and smugglers. Spies like the two of them, he admitted to himself.
But arrest and Evin Prison held a special terror for every Iranian. Risking death in an open boat might be preferable. “We can talk about that later,” he finally answered. “Let’s see what happens tomorrow tonight.”
“Where will we live?” she asked. Shirin wanted to imagine the future, to think about things she’d kept locked in a corner of her mind for years. She was beginning to consider the possibility that they might actually leave Iran. “Do you want to live in America? We don’t have to, you know. We could live anywhere — France, or Brazil.”
“We’d both have to learn French or Portuguese,” Yousef answered. “At least you speak excellent English. Much better than me.” He shrugged. “I should have studied harder.”
“Then what about England or Australia?”
“It’s pleasant to think about,” he agreed. “We haven’t had a lot of choices for the last few years.”
“The Americans will help us,” Shirin asserted. “They owe us, and even if they didn’t, the flash drive has enough to pay for our passage.”
They drove though the uneven landscape. Highway 65 wove and twisted across crestlines and valleys, always seeking the smoothest way south. Scrubby short plants stood out in different shades of green against dull brown, but it wasn’t all desert. They also passed by fields and orchards that surrounded small farming communities.
Shirin took out the GPS navigator and checked their progress. It showed their planned route. “We should be in Bandar Kangan by three o’clock.”
They would drive south to the coast and then northwest on Highway 96. Their route to Kangan took them right past the place where they would meet the Americans. The spot was nine kilometers southeast of the town, at a place where the highway passed very close to the water. It would be natural for a couple to pause by a narrow, rocky beach and watch the sun go down. Lingering long enough to see the sky erupt into bright colors during twilight — exactly at twilight. The Americans would arrive shortly after that.
Yousef had arranged their trip so they could see it first in the early afternoon, in full daylight. They could also check for any activity. It didn’t have to be VEVAK or a Basij patrol. Fishermen, roadwork, anyone nearby would prevent their escape.
They had a latitude and longitude for the rendezvous point, but they had not entered that into the device. Both had memorized the numbers, and would simply drive, then walk until the readout matched their recollection. Shirin didn’t think she’d ever forget them.
The final authorization for the mission had come in late last night, but it came with a twist.
Aside from Jerry, now the substitute ASDS pilot, the skipper, Lieutenant Commander Mike Harper, the boat’s engineer, and Lieutenants Simmons and Carlson were the only members of
Jerry distractedly scratched the three-day growth on his chin. The rest of the SEALs had “gone native” as soon as they’d gotten underway. The Pakistanis were more comfortable working with bearded Americans, and the SEALs all had well-developed facial hair. Jerry had only started his after being tapped as Carlson’s replacement. It seemed pointless to him, but it might make the two Iranians more comfortable when they came aboard the ASDS. He was looking forward to shaving it off the moment they returned to
The BMC included enough table and chair space so everyone could sit and see the screen. Lieutenant Ramey, the platoon leader, ran the brief. The other three members of the team, Lapointe, Fazel, and Phillips sat together on one side, with their wheel books open and pencils ready. Jerry and Lieutenant Higgs, the two ASDS pilots, sat across the table. Lieutenant Frederick-son, the ops officer, and Chief Special Warfare Operator Yates, the SEAL platoon chief, watched.
