Pandora's Ark

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Al-Ghazi was livid to the point where he smashed valuable items within his office. His team had failed. His reputation in the eyes of his supreme leader all but lost.

He sat at his desk running his fingers through his hair.

At least he had the disc. He could start over. He could revamp a team and create what Sakharov had perfected.

He went to his wall-safe and opened it. Other than a firearm and a few American dollars, which he pocketed, he grabbed the disc and held it up toward the light, watching the iridescent waves cross over the disc’s surface. He then placed the disc inside the inner pocket of his sport jacket and turned to leave Tehran for the last time.

Only he was not alone.

Two men stood in the doorway.

“And who may you be?” he demanded.

The men looked impassive and remained unmoving.

This was not good.

Al-Ghazi stood tall, showing an air of defiance and bravado. “Who gave you the right to enter my office unannounced?”

“I did,” said the man on the left. The man then produced a weapon with a suppressor as long as the pistol’s barrel and aimed it at al-Ghazi.

Al-Ghazi blanched.

In an act of self-preservation he raised a hand as if to stay the oncoming shots. But it didn’t. His fingers took flight as the bullets smashed through his feeble defense and into his face, killing him.

The operatives stood over his body, the one man holstering his firearm as al-Sherrod entered the office, smiling with his yellow teeth. He leaned down, reached inside al-Ghazi’s jacket, and removed the disc.

Al-Ghazi had served his purpose, he considered. And now the data regarding Sakharov’s findings were solely in the hands of Iranian authority.

Ahmadinejad would be pleased.