Satan's Spy (The Steve Church saga Book 2), André Gallo [ebook reader color screen .txt] 📗

American diplomats under a tighter rein. Also I assume that their phones are tapped. Go over the tapes for the last month. Find out if they bought any cell phones or are communicating secretly through their own illegal satellite phones; control any internet communications,” he snapped.

“We are going to catch this spy and make an example of him. The world will understand that we are not a third world banana republic. We will force them to respect us!” He looked at each man. “Questions? I want daily reports, and I want Hashem here,” he pointed to Yazdi, “to coordinate the effort.”

* **

Yazdi’s heart was beatings faster as he left the Ministry. He had spoken up to cover himself. Breton had assured him at the outset that he would have no contacts with the Interests Section. He wondered where Mousavi’s information came from.

He was considering his options. Should he go to Germany anyway, using the Steltzer case as a pretext? Mousavi had told him to forget Steltzer until this crisis was over. Once in Hamburg, he could decide whether to come back to Tehran. He knew that if he left now, he would never come back. Why come back? To be shot?

It was early enough in the day for him to signal for an emergency meeting with Steve for that night. He drove to a shopping center near Steve’s hotel. A wall covered with graffiti bordered a large parking lot. As he walked past, he left a blue chalk mark, unnoticeable except to anyone who looked for it as Steve did every day before noon.

When they met that night at a prearranged site, Yazdi considered “Breton” a threat to his own life. As he briefed Steve on Mousavi’s dragnet, he was reviewing his options. He knew that he could not allow the American to be captured.

“You have to get out of the country,” he told him Steve. “Mousavi is harnessing the entire country to find you. I’ll help you get out.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. I can’t leave until you get me the information from Firuz.”

They parted after a quick meeting, each with his separate thoughts. For the first time, Yazdi felt frightened. He had told “Breton” several times not to worry, that he knew how far he could go in taking chances, that it was his turf.

Now, “Breton” was saying in effect that the value of the information was worth a higher level of risk. Maybe he should be renegotiating the agreement he had reached with Marshall Church. He tucked that thought away and focused on how he should proceed and stay alive. Could he get Firuz to share his information? Would he react well to an approach based on Yazdi’s family seniority?

Until the American left the country, he was at risk. Breton had to disappear, one way or another. He could not let him be captured alive.

 

28. Tehran: Esteghlal Hotel

“Okay, this is it,” Kella announced, entering Steve’s room. “LaFont wants us to get out ASAP. She wants to know if we can still get out by commercial flight. She also wants to know if we can get to the Interests Section where she’ll send us diplomatic passports. But it’ll be a few days.”

Steve wore grey slacks, a white collarless shirt, and sandals, which he had bought at E CUT, a chain store aimed at middle class Iranians who either couldn’t afford better or wanted to fit in with the president’s working-class roots and sartorial model. The fact that his skin was a bit dark also helped.

“It’s too late for me,” Steve said leaning back against the bed’s headrest. “Whether I show up at the airport or at the Swiss Embassy’s door, I’m dead.”

“Don’t say that,” she cringed. “What is your plan?”

“First, we should be meeting in your room. You have a refrigerator, and I don’t. How did that happen? Second, I’m not done here. Third, you can get out on the next flight. No one is looking for a French woman. Let’s review the bidding.”

Kella brought out a small bottle of juice from her pocketbook. “Here. I also brought you some peanuts. I’m leaving only when you leave.” She handed him a small can.

She asked, “Did SENTINEL say where Mousavi is getting his information, about us, or rather you, I mean?”

“That’s the sixty-four dollar question, isn’t it? Neither of us has been arrested, so Mousavi doesn’t know who he’s looking for. He has no name. The only people in Tehran who had knowledge of this operation are the two of us and SENTINEL. Now, it seems everybody knows. I frankly don’t know how much the U.S. Interests section knows. The Charge knows that LaFont wanted to place one of our officers in his section under diplomatic cover. He probably knows or assumes that we have an outside officer in the country.”

Steve opened the can and put several nuts in his mouth. “Was Headquarters forced to give him my name? I don’t know.”

He continued. “Could a local employee be working for Iranian security? Absolutely! How would he have obtained the information? Local employees don’t have access to the chancery, the classified area, of a diplomatic installation.”

Kella asked, “Regardless of the source, the information is now out there. What about moving out of this hotel? I think that some of the staff suspects something. Remember, one of the maids asked me if I’m here with my husband. The guy at the desk, who used to be so helpful, now avoids eye contact.”

“I still think that you should check out and take the first flight out. No one is looking for you.”

“Listen to your reasoning. No one is looking for me, but I’m the one who should leave? Did you fail the course on Descartes? You’re the one who should leave, now!” He offered her the can of peanuts.

“For the time being, I probably have