“That’s quite kind, thank you.”
“I suppose you have questions for me?”
“I do, but before we get to business, I’d like to ask you something personal.”
“By all means.”
“How did you get to be a CIA mole?”
Hamadan grins, revealing a wide set of sparkling white teeth. “I spent my early twenties in the United States, during the 1970s, before the fall of the Shah. I went to a small college in West Texas, where other Iranian students attended. The school had an exchange program with Iran at the time. I studied political science and English. During that period, men from your government came to talk to us. It was quite blatant — they wanted to recruit young men to help the U.S. spy on Iran. The money was good. I was young and didn’t know better, so I accepted. I’ve been earning extra income from the CIA ever since. I have no complaints.”
“Fascinating,” I said. “It’s a small world, isn’t it?”
“It grows smaller daily. Now then, to the business at hand.” He sets down his teacup and looks me in the eyes. “Mr. Fisher, I have many connections in the underworld and in law enforcement in this country and surrounding areas. Before your government contacted me and said to expect you here, I had heard your name mentioned in… other places.”
“Oh?”
“Mr. Fisher, there is a price on your head. You are a marked man.”
14
“Well, that’s nothing new,” I say.
Hamadan looks at me as if he’s sizing me up. “I detect that you are either a very brave man, Mr. Fisher, or a very foolish one.”
“Call me Sam, please.”
“Very well, but you must call me Reza.”
“All right, Reza. What exactly do you mean?”
“You appear not to take what I say seriously.”
“Of course I do. I take all death threats seriously.”
“Forgive me, then. Perhaps I mistook your self-confidence for indifference.”
“Reza, I’ve been in this business for a long time. It takes a lot to shake me up. Now, why don’t you tell me what it is you know?”
He nods and smiles. “I like you already, Sam. You have… what’s the word? Aplomb.” He takes a sip of tea and continues. “I assume you knew Mr. Benton?”
“Not personally. Rick Benton worked for the same organization as I.”
“I had dealings with Mr. Benton. I was one of his informers. I liked him as well. I find it difficult to believe he was killed. He was also a man with great self-confidence.”
“Go on.”
“You must know that Mr. Benton was trying to track down the Shop. He wanted to know where they were based, who was in charge, how they worked. For the last two years this had become his obsession. I helped him the best I could. I found out things for him, guided him in certain directions. I believe he may have shown his hand too soon, though. The Shop became aware of him. Mr. Benton told me as such right after your man in the Far East was killed. Mr. Lee?”
“Yes. Dan Lee. In Macau.”
“Right. After that happened, Mr. Benton told me that he thought the Shop had a list of names. Names of possible agents with the National Security Agency. He was afraid the Shop had begun a campaign to eliminate everyone on the list.”
I consider this. “I don’t question Rick’s suspicions, but I think you both give the Shop too much credit. If the Shop really does have a list of names, then I can’t imagine how they got it.”
“That is exactly what Mr. Benton said. Very mysterious.”
“I tell you, Reza, I’m not going to worry about it,” I say. I mean it, too. I have more important things to think about. I spend a great deal of energy watching my back when I’m on an assignment. It’s routine. “Now, what can you tell me about Rick’s investigations?”
“Mr. Benton was working on tracing an arms supply line coming into Iraq. He believed the arms come from Azerbaijan, but he wasn’t completely sure. I tend to agree with him. If this is true, then there are two routes the arms could take — one through Iran, and one through Armenia and Turkey. I’ll tell you what I think. I don’t believe they’re coming through Iran, although maybe the Shop wants to give us that impression. There are arms that do come into Iran, but they do not
“Like the Shadows, for instance?”
Hamadan smiles again. “You are very perceptive, Sam.”
“They are quickly becoming a priority for us,” I explain.
“Yes, well, as they should. There have been some suspicions in the media and in our government that the Shadows are based in Iran. I hope it’s not true. I don’t believe it.”
“Reza, whatever enlightenment you can provide would be appreciated.”
“I don’t know much, either. Only that the group is taking credit for a lot of attacks lately. Are we even sure that the Shadows really exist? Could they be al Qaeda or another one of the established groups merely trying to confuse us?”
“No, I don’t think so. Their methods are slightly different. Results are the same, though. I actually think I met some Shadows in Arbil the other day.”
“Really?”
“Yes. That reminds me. What do you know about the Tabriz Container Company?”
Hamadan wrinkles his brow. “Why?”
“There was a shipment of arms confiscated in Arbil. The stuff was in crates made by the Tabriz Container Company.”
Hamadan shrugs. “It’s a large company here that makes boxes, crates, containers… Their warehouse is located outside the city.”
“I’m going to check them out.”
“It can’t hurt, but I can’t imagine that this company is involved in anything illegal. They sell their products to all kinds of clients. The Shop might be buying the containers through a middleman or a front.”
“Could be. Here’s another question for you. Have you ever heard of anyone named Tarighian?”
“Tarighian?” Hamadan looks surprised. “
“I don’t know his first name.”
“If you’re talking about Nasir Tarighian, you’re talking about an Iranian war hero. He was a hero during the Iran-Iraq War.”
“Tell me about him.”
“He was very wealthy, owned several businesses, and was very active politically. He got into a little trouble in the early 1980s by speaking out against the Islamic Revolution. When the war started he underwent a tragedy — his home was destroyed and he lost some relatives, killed by Iraqi bombs. After that incident he swore revenge against Iraq. He formed an anti-Iraqi militia — a terrorist group, really. They made frequent raids across the border. They were merciless — they killed innocent civilians and destroyed a lot of property. Tarighian became something of a cult hero here in Iran, but the government didn’t approve of his actions. They were going to step in and stop him, but before they could, the Iraqi army ambushed Tarighian and his little band of soldiers. Tarighian was killed and the militia was wiped out.”
“Tarighian’s dead?”
