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

Naurouz took the phone and after a moment, said, “No Network.”

“Great! Let’s move. What did they say?”

“You were right. One of them recognized you. He was trying to call the Yazd police.”

Kella, sitting between them, looked at their two prisoners through the connecting window behind her. “So far so good; they’ve stopped trying to get loose. They’re just relaxing on those stretchers. “We can’t take them with us, and we can’t let them loose. What are we going to do?”

“How about stashing them somewhere for awhile until somebody finds them?” Steve said. “We need a head start before the helicopters, cop cars, and anybody hungry for reward money come swooping down on us.”

At the outset, Steve’s operational paranoia might have included Naurouz among those who might be tempted to turn them in. That initial sarcastic comment about Yazdi, “Whatever my cousin wants is good, no?” had tickled his antennae. Naurouz had proven himself repeatedly as a trustworthy partner.

Naurouz had just reached the main road. Glancing at his rear view mirror, he saw Leila in her car, getting ready to veer off to the left, to go back toward Yazd. He braked suddenly and jumped out of the ambulance waiving to Leila as he ran toward her car. He bent down and said something to her and then loped back to the ambulance.

“I told her to follow us. I know just the place to hide them. Since they’ve seen the ambulance, we’ll have to leave it also. They haven’t seen her car so we can use it instead.”

Within half an hour, the headlights caught a dome surrounded by four badgirs on the right of the road. Naurouz turned in, drove to the back of the structure with Leila behind him, and stopped.

They all got out, and as Naurouz took keys out of his pocket he said, “This is the Zain Abad reservoir. It’s fed by another qanat. I have to come here with my muqannies at least once a month.”

Naurouz pointed away toward the darkness and said, “Be careful, there is a hole in the ground over there, an old dry well.” His tone changed to indifference as he added, “It should be covered.”

They unloaded the two men from the vehicle and laid them on the sand. Naurouz unlocked a door that led down to the reservoir, and they carried the two men inside.

“How long before they’re discovered?” Steve asked.

“Workers will be here tomorrow or the day after. Don’t worry. They won’t die from hunger or thirst.”

They got in Leila’s car and were about a hundred feet from the dome when Naurouz said, “Just a second. I’ll be right back.”

* **

Naurouz jogged back to the dome with his keys in his hand. He had been thinking about his role in this expedition since Farah’s death forced him to consider the possibility of dying. Helping these foreigners was one thing. He was doing it as an order from his community. However, getting caught and executed for their sake was not.

Further, and the best reason of all, he thought, was that getting caught also implicated his community; he would not be the only one to suffer. His parents, his entire extended family, might be executed. The elders of the community would certainly suffer consequences as well. Perhaps his faith in Iran, the global foundation of his religion, would be snuffed out. Unless, that is, he took all possible measures to conceal his involvement, and that of the Community. He needed to make sure that those two men never revealed his role.

He would act according to ashoi, or righteousness, a powerful weapon against all evil forces. Without the help of ashoi, one could not carry out the noble doctrines of good thoughts, good words, and good deeds.

Acting quickly, he opened the door, went down the steps, and his powerful arms hoisted one man over his shoulder. He carried him up and away from the building.

Should he kill him first? He hesitated but a fraction of a second before dropping the man into the old well, which he knew to be fifty feet deep. He heard him land at the bottom; then ran back to the building. When he had dropped the second man into the well, he murmured in a low voice, “In your service, Ahura Mazda.”

Quickly locking the door, he rushed to the car. They all looked at him questioningly.

“Sorry. Call of nature,” he said.

Back in the car, Naurouz felt Steve’s steady gaze and knew that, while Steve didn’t know what he had done, his antennae were up, and his suspicions aroused. Naurouz would never discuss what he had done on this night.

55. Shiraz, Iran

Naurouz had left them at the next stop on the underground railroad, a home in Shiraz. Hoping that their signal would not be detected, Kella had sent a coded message during the night to provide their location and to ask for instructions. They were getting closer to the coast and expected that the agency would make personal contact soon.

Kurosh, their host, tall and thin wearing the usual Zoroastrian square white hat, knocked on their door early the next morning. “There is a stranger at the door, a cleric. I have to let him in,” he said with equanimity. “You better get out of sight.” He led them to a small attic, which they reached with the help of a step ladder that Kurosh had brought with him from downstairs.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, Steve pushed the trap door open and Kella followed him through it. They waited, sweating in the dark, closed, and airless space.

“What do you think?” Kella whispered. “Is this still better than boring routine? I don’t know why I came with you.”

She kept looking at her watch feeling that it must have stopped. She could feel Steve