Deathrace

14

Joe Douglas watched the dancer for a moment, then snapped his finger against the expensive stemware. It rang like a silver bell. Everyone at the table looked at him.

"If we can't find out from here where the damn plant is, then it's logical that we have to get down there to the south and dig out the location on the spot."

"But it's fifteen hundred miles or more all the way to the southern border of the country," George said. "How can we get down there?"

"Hitchhike, steal a car — I don't know, but we've got to be on-site down there to find the damn place," Douglas said.

"I might be able to help," the dancer said. "Tomorrow I have to go far south to the town of Bandar-e 'Abbas. It's on the Straight of Hormuz. That's only about four hundred miles north of Chah Bahar."

"Going down there," Franklin said. "Could I ask how?"

"Yes. I rent a plane at the airport here and fly down. I understand there's a small airport at Chah Bahar, but the four of us arriving for no obvious reason would stir up a lot of Secret Police and military questions."

"You mean we could ride in your plane down to Bandar-e without the authorities asking about us?"

"I do have a little bit of influence in this country. You'll be going as my bodyguards. I always travel with one or two. Three is not unheard of."

George frowned. "So we get that far, how do we get on to Chah Bahar?"

"Rent a car," Murrah said. "I can do so without a question. I'll tell them it's for a vacation, and I've never been that far south before. You'd be surprised how many people, and officials, will let me break a lot of the rules."

"if we're voting, I'd say it's a go," Franklin said.

"Sounds good to me," Douglas chimed in. "Once we get to that town, we can start working our way out those roads and feel our way along until we find the sucker."

George still had his frown. "I don't know. I'm not comfortable exposed that way. In Tehran, I can melt into the community. I'm going to have to check with the Office on this."

"Don't bother," Douglas said. "You stay here and we'll go with Murrah down south and find the damned location."

George sighed, and at last nodded. "Yes, you're right. I haven't done the job up here. I'd say it can't be done here. So we go south. If it's still all right with Murrah."

"I'd be delighted. You'll stay here tonight. I'll outfit you in some different clothes, and we'll take two or three suitcases. I have jackets that are just alike that should fit the three of you. Yes, let's do it. I have some phone calls to make. Lotus will show each of you to your room. We'll be up early. I like to fly out before seven A.M. It's an hour to the airport in my car."

Lotus, the maid, arrived on cue, and motioned the three men to follow her. Murrah took a cordless phone from its set in a drawer in the arm of one of the large sofas, and made her calls.

A half hour later, Joe Douglas had turned off the light in the room he had been shown to. He had stripped to his shorts and slid between white sheets. Murrah lived like a queen in this poverty-drenched country.

He had just closed his eyes, when he heard his door open. Damn. His pistol was halfway across the room.

"Don't be alarmed, Joe Douglas," Murrah said softly. She turned on one of the small lamps and sat down on the bed beside him. She wore a thin, wispy see-through gown.

"Joe Douglas, did you enjoy my dancing tonight?"

"Yes, fantastic. I still don't see how you can shake that way.

She laughed. "It is a gift and a craft. Tell me, was I sexy?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely."

"Did you fantasize about me just a little?"

"Yes."

"Good." She slipped off the light robe and stood naked in front of him. Then she slid into the bed beside him.

"Joe Douglas, tonight I want you to dance with me many times."

Douglas couldn't stop a big grin. "Hey, that's one dance I think I can do good enough to keep you happy."

"Enough talk, Joe Douglas. Enough talk."

The early morning at Murrah's house was a blur for Colt Franklin and Joe Douglas. They were awakened about four, given new clothes with matching brown jackets, then hurried into a Mercedes Benz sedan and driven swiftly to the Tehran airport. They went through a side gate to a private hangar.

In ten minutes, they had loaded onboard a six-passenger aircraft, of some European make not even Joe Douglas could determine, and taken off. Douglas checked his watch. It was a little after 0653.

"We'll be flying at one hundred seventy-five miles an hour, and have to make one stop for fuel in Shiraz," Murrah told them.

"When will we get to our destination?" George asked.

"It's about seven hours with the stop," she said. "We should land in Bandar Abbas a little after two in the afternoon."

"Then what's the program?" Douglas asked. She had made sure to sit beside him in the rear two seats, and when no one was looking, her hand strayed over to his thigh.

"In Iran, speed is not important. If we try to move too quickly, we could stir up some suspicion. I have canceled my performance for tomorrow night, a case of the flu. We'll stay tonight at a small inn where I have friends. That will give them time to find a car for me that won't be noticed. We'll leave early in the morning. Will that be fast enough?"

"Sounds fine," Douglas said.

"Take us most of the day to drive on to Chah Bahar, I'd guess," George said.

"The farther we go south, the worse the roads become, but we should be able to maintain a forty miles per hour average." Murrah hurried on. "I know that's not fast by American standards, but it's the best we can do on our secondary roads."

"Only a ten-hour car ride," Franklin said. "We'll be getting on-site faster than I had hoped."

"Tonight I'll find a spot, and send our plans to Don Stroh and company, unless George wants to unlimber his SATCOM," Douglas said.

The CIA agent waved. "Help yourself."

Conversation tapered off then. Murrah went to sleep with her head on Joe Douglas's shoulder, and her hand halfway up his thigh. He moved it away gently.

They made their fuel stop, and took off without incident. Later they landed at the small airport at Bandar Abbas. They taxied to a small private hangar where a car waited for them.

"Nothing like traveling first class," Guns Franklin said. The other two Americans agreed with him.

There was no military security at the airport, which surprised Douglas.

Two miles later, they drove into a courtyard and a big door closed behind them. A woman rushed out of the inn and hugged Murrah. They talked for a minute, then the men got out of the car. There were brief introductions, then they went inside.

Ten minutes later, on the roof of the three-story inn, Douglas set up the SATCOM and worked on his message.

"Flew three-quarters of the way to Chah Bahar. Going on there tomorrow by car. Have help of famous person who is sympathetic. George is with us. Will listen at regular times. Any suggestions?"

He read it over twice, let George look at it, then hit the send button, and the burst of energy shot out of the antenna in a millisecond, straight to the satellite.

The men stayed inside the compound. Douglas and Franklin were feeling antsy, so they had a push-up contest. Franklin, the former gymnast, won with a hundred and forty-seven. After a short rest they ran around the courtyard until they sweated through their clothes.

At midnight, Douglas had the SATCOM set put up, the antenna tuned in, and the radio turned to receive. The message came through promptly at midnight, local time. Douglas had no idea what time it was wherever Don Stroh had landed.

The encrypto mechanism in the set spilled out the message in plain English on the readout screen.

"Douglas. Approve move south. Keep body count low. Make any KIAs look like accidents. Security is high all over Chah Bahar area. Douglas is CO of operation. New satellite photos of area coming in. Will give you layout of major roads out of Chah soon. We need location of target to within a quarter mile. Be careful. Stroh."

George and Franklin read the message. George waved.

"Hey, down here I'm out of my element. I'm not a country kind of guy. I'll follow your lead."

"The fucking highways out of town are the key," Franklin said. "Wish we had a fax on this thing. We'll have to use compass directions. Can't be many roads to go nowhere."

"Yeah, but getting on them, following them without being stopped by those military guards, will be the trick," Douglas said.

About the same time in Tehran, General Ruhollah paced his office. They were too close now to permit anything to go wrong. Another three weeks and the men at the plant said the first device would be ready.

Only three weeks!

General Ruhollah could hardly believe it. He had pushed hard for the development of their own nuclear capability. He had had trouble at times, but had bulled through every roadblock. He had pinched money from many sources to fund the program. Now only three weeks away!

But there was something going on that he didn't like. The U.S. CIA had been too active lately. One Iranian agent had been killed, the top CIA man was on the run. They had quashed three small Iranian groups who had fought the very idea of a nuclear facility. The large man, Tauksaun, was contained in his apartment. Anyone who came to see him was picked up for questioning. They would soon have a phone tap on his three phone lines.

Still there was something else. It was more a feeling than any hard facts he had. The dancer, Murrah, was one he had not been able to touch. He knew she was involved with one of the small anti-nuclear groups. He wasn't sure which one or what they could do. His last report today was that she was not at her usual performance restaurant.

He checked and found that she had a series of dance engagements in Bandar-e 'Abbas. Yes, his men reported that she had rented the usual plane she often used and flown out that morning with the southern city her destination on the flight plan.

Her plane had landed there earlier today.

Still he wondered. It was only four hundred miles on to Chah Bahar. There were no indications that she was going to go there. Still it worried him.

More and more people knew that "something" had been built in the mountains above the southern city. A project this big could not be done in secret. The construction people alone numbered over a thousand. But they didn't know what they were building.

The lens grinders had been the biggest security leak. They didn't know what they worked on, but educated guesses could be made. Secrecy plus the intricate grinding process must have led many to speculate.

Only three more weeks.

He made up his mind in a flash, the way he always did. Tomorrow he would fly to Chah Bahar. The small airstrip was large enough for his personal plane to land. In the morning he would order two more companies of infantry troops to report to the main security building in Chah Bahar. That would make four companies, about eight hundred men. He wished he could station some of their jet fighters there, but the runway wasn't long enough. Perhaps at the Bandar-e 'Abbas airport. He would have to check it. He could send six attack helicopters to Chah Bahar. The French ones they bought last month would do fine.

If anyone tried to disrupt the work at the nuclear plant, they would be in for a huge surprise. He had no idea what to expect. He guessed that the CIA knew of the program by now. Such a huge undertaking was hard to keep totally under wraps.

General Ruhollah went to his telephone and made three calls. The plane would be ready in the morning at six o'clock. It was the smaller one that could land at Chah. At 200 mph top speed, it would take most of the day to get there. Then he would look over the security, and welcome the new troops that would arrive in three days.

If anyone tried to get within ten miles of the plant, they would be met with deadly force.

General Ruhollah poured a small glass of bourbon from a secret bottle in his desk. No good Muslim drank liquor. He sighed and tipped the glass. He had spent too much time in England as an attache. Maybe he wasn't a good Muslim. It didn't matter one way or the other. He had little patience with the old-timers, the hard-liners who wanted Iran's 70 million people to turn back the clock and live the way their grandfathers had.

It was a new world.

Iran must be ready to compete.

Iran must be ready to defend herself with nuclear weapons.

Iran must be ready to conquer the five big Arab states on the peninsula. Then they would speak with one voice to the West. They would dictate the terms of world commerce and the price of their oil.

Iran must be ready!

With six nuclear bombs, they would be ready.