the inside collar of his coat, gently starting to tug it off.
Tarid resisted for only a moment more; the desire that Simin had provoked saw a potential outlet.
“Maybe we can go up to my room,” he told her, forgetting he had dropped off the key.
“I can fix it here.” Hera folded the jacket over her arm. “I’ll just get a needle and thread.”
“No, no,” he said. “Just give me my coat back. Never mind.”
“I insist,” she said. “Let me fix it for you.”
“I have an appointment.”
Outside, Danny Freah and Nuri were looking at each other, realizing that they were going to lose another chance, probably the last, to bug Tarid. Hera had marked him when he bumped into her, so there was no question that they could continue to follow him. But having gotten this close to him, it seemed a shame to give up the opportunity.
“I’m going in,” said Danny.
“He’ll recognize you.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Danny rounded the corner quickly, practically leaping up the block to the steps and the entrance to the small hotel. He bounded up to the door, then forced himself to take a breath as he opened it.
He came in just as Tarid was taking the coat from Hera’s hand. The Iranian stopped, stunned, staring at Danny as if he were looking at a ghost.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” said Danny in English. “What are
“You?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” said Danny. “You didn’t think I was dead, I hope.”
“Why are you here?” said Tarid in Arabic.
Danny glanced at Hera.
“Use English,” he said. “We don’t need women with big mouths listening to what we say.”
Tarid wasn’t sure what to make of this at all. He was worried about Kirk’s English and loud voice. If the hotel keeper was informing on him, this would be something more to add, another nail in the coffin.
“I can fix your coat,” said Hera, her hand touching his.
“What’s wrong with the coat?” asked Danny.
Tarid frowned. “Nothing,” he said, in English.
“Have her fix it while you and I talk. Let’s have some coffee. There are restaurants across the street.”
“Fix the coat right away,” said Tarid, handing it to Hera as if she were his employee. “I’ll be across the street.”
50
Bani Aberhadji had scheduled his meeting with Tarid for the afternoon because he had more important things to do in the morning, the primary one being to arrange for the assassination of the country’s president.
He had pondered General Taher Banhnnjunni’s reaction for many hours, praying until he reached what should have been an obvious conclusion: Banhnnjunni was as guilty as the president. The fact that his fellow council member did not return his call in the morning made the conclusion even more obvious. Aberhadji decided, therefore, to act without him — and then move against the general to oust him from the council.
The task itself was simple. The president was flying to America in three days. A small bomb, located strategically in the aircraft, would accomplish the task very easily. Aberhadji would have no difficulty getting the bomb made or placed. Two members of the Khatam-ol-Anbia, the engineering division of the Guard, who worked with him on the nuclear project, had already volunteered to fashion it in secret. The men, brothers, were highly competent weapons engineers; they had helped fashion much of the warhead’s metal structure, working under the direction of the Koreans. They were also old friends, having served with him on the battlefield.
Security at the airport was shared by a Republican Guard unit, and the Guard staffed most of the departments there, including the maintenance facilities. There were at least two men Aberhadji believed had access to the plane and would gladly plant the weapon.
More difficult was what to do about General Banhnnjunni. While the general did not control the council, he certainly controlled enough Guard units to make things difficult after the president was assassinated. He could even conceivably take over. Aberhadji did not want that. So he decided to enlist another old friend and general, Muhammad Jaliff, who commanded the Guard units based in Tehran. His support would neutralize Banhnnjunni. In fact, Jaliff would make an excellent president after the revolt.
The men had known each other since boyhood. While their duties now meant that they had little contact with each other socially, they still spoke at least once or twice a month. They were committed Islamists, fervent both in faith and in their support of the Revolution. Aberhadji considered Jaliff among his closest friends.
Which made Jaliff’s reaction to his plan all the more shocking.
“It is an imbecilic idea,” said his friend, rising from his office couch. “It is treason. I should have you arrested right now.”
Aberhadji stared at his friend in disbelief. Jaliff walked to the door. For a moment it looked as if he was going to carry out his threat — Aberhadji imagined him opening it and calling in the two guards from the hall. But he was merely making sure it was locked. He checked it, then went back to his desk.
“You don’t understand the world, brother,” said Jaliff. “You believe you are above the rest of us because you are pure.”
“I don’t,” said Aberhadji.
“We’ve known each other a long time.” Jaliff shook his head. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
Slightly exasperated, Jaliff leaned back in his seat. A reaction like this was to be expected from Aberhadji, he realized, even though he was the most rational of men.
“It was good that you came to me first,” he said. “Very good. This is a thing you must not act on. You must not do anything.”
“I don’t understand how you can sit and watch the greatest enemy of our country, of our religion, win this victory.”
“It is not a victory for the Americans,” said Jaliff. “In the long run, it will be a victory for us. And for now, it is necessary.”
“How?”
Jaliff slammed his hand on the desk. “Look around you, Bani. Don’t you see the poverty? The country is in shambles. People aren’t eating. They’re not eating.”
“There’s rice.”
“It’s because of the American boycott.”
Jaliff rose. In his mind, the greater culprit was a corrupt system that for years had rewarded connections, not competence. While he did not like the new president for many reasons, he was at least taking the necessary steps — even when it came to dealing with the Satan Incarnate. In time he would be left by the wayside, as all Iranian presidents were. But first Iran’s economy would be restored.
Aberhadji’s nuclear program — which Jaliff had only superficial knowledge of — would be of critical importance in a year or two. That, as much as their friendship, persuaded Jaliff to rein in his anger. He had to persuade his friend to be reasonable.
“Do you really think the president would have proceeded without assurances that he was on the right track?” asked Jaliff. “Do you think none of the religious leaders have pondered the question of how one speaks with his enemy? Who should do it?”
Aberhadji felt as if the ground beneath his feet had started to tilt. He wasn’t sure how to answer the
