44

Professor Namati’s Residence
Qeytariyeh District
Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran
August 13, 2011

One of Reza’s student friends drove Lourds to Professor Namati’s home. It was Saturday, and the professor should have been there. Lourds didn’t get Namati’s home phone number. The house was a modest single-story with a nice garden out front.

Lourds walked up to the front door, took off his hat, and knocked politely.

A young woman answered the door and looked frightened. She was an older version of the young girl Namati had pictures of in the dhow. Her red eyes gave away the fact that she’d been crying.

‘May I help you?’ The young woman stood her ground behind the door.

‘I hope I’m not coming at a bad time.’ Lourds felt uncomfortable, but he wasn’t leaving without speaking to Namati.

‘My father isn’t here.’ Her voice broke.

‘I’m Thomas Lourds.’

‘I know who you are, Professor Lourds.’ Her eyes hardened. ‘You are part of the reason they took my father.’

‘Who took your father?’

‘The Revolutionary Guard. They came this morning and took him away. They said it was just for routine questioning, but my father knew it was a lie. He did not want to go with them. They told him they would kill me if he did not. So he left. They wanted to know if he had seen you.’

Stunned, Lourds stood there for a moment and didn’t know what to say. ‘Do you know where they took your father?’

‘Where does the Revolutionary Guard take any intellectual they view as a threat to them? To Evin Prison.’

For the first time, Lourds realized where Miriam had probably been taken, and the knowledge left him terrified. Horrible things happened at that prison. Although the regime denied it, reports came out of Iran frequently about the serial rapes and other brutal torment that went on inside that prison.

He concentrated on the young woman. ‘What’s your name?’

She hesitated, but she finally spoke. ‘Shirin.’

‘Shirin, if there is a way to do it, please understand that I’m going to help your father. I promise you that.’

She only looked at him until finally he couldn’t bear it any longer and returned to the waiting car. As he got in, he watched Shirin close the door and lift the window curtain. He didn’t know if she was calling the Revolutionary Guard to let them know that he’d been there or if she was trying to convince herself to believe him.

The student put the car into gear and pulled into the street.

Lourds dialed Reza’s number and waited as the call connected.

Evin District
Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran
August 13, 2011

In the shade of the teahouse beside the prison, Mufarrij sat and watched the installation. He’d reconnoitered Evin Prison before, but he’d never been assigned to break into the penitentiary. Now his orders were to do whatever it took to free the Israeli woman who had been with Thomas Lourds.

‘You are sure this man will come here?’ Haytham sat across the table from Mufarrij. His name translated into young hawk, and he resembled the predatory bird in his hooked nose and sharp, flashing eyes. He was in his early twenties, but was a stone killer and had slit his first throat — that of a Revolutionary Guardsman who had tried to rape his sister — when he was twelve.

‘Yes. The American is predictable. Once he finds out the woman is here, he will come. He won’t be able to help himself.’

‘I have seen this man’s files. He is no warrior.’

Mufarrij smiled at that. ‘It is even worse than that. The American is a romantic. He believes that good will triumph over evil.’

Haytham snorted in derision. ‘And, of course, America is good.’

‘Of course.’

‘I suppose he is going to raise an army to allow him to break in?’

‘I do not know. That is why we must be ready.’ That was also why the king had allotted Mufarrij the twenty men he now commanded. The Saudi spy network had integrated with the Iranian security measures seamlessly. These days the Revolutionary Guard didn’t know the Saudi spies were among them till it was far too late.

As it would be at Evin Prison.

‘Do you know where the woman is being held?’

‘Yes.’ Mufarrij reached into his jacket and took out a sheaf of papers. ‘I have drawn a map of the woman’s location. She is in one of the back units. We can blow the wall in that area and reach her within seconds. However, I want it to look like we are attacking from the front of the prison.’

‘To draw their security teams there?’

‘Yes, but also to make the Revolutionary Guardsmen think the attack is merely that of dissidents. I don’t want them to know true warriors are among them till we have blown that wall and have entered.’

‘Of course. How did you come by the information?’

‘The Revolutionary Guardsmen aren’t the only people inside that prison. There are prisoners as well, and sometimes they are allowed to speak with their families. I spread money among some of those families this morning when they went in to visit their loved ones.’ Mufarrij shrugged. ‘They needed the money. I needed the information. Also, as a bonus, I am certain they knew I meant no goodwill with the knowledge I received.’

Haytham smiled. ‘This is most assuredly so, my brother. But why do you not seek out this American and cast our lot in with his?’

‘Because at the first opportunity the American got, he would separate from us. Once he returns to Jerusalem, and I am sure that he must because the Dome of the Rock is there, and so is the secret that we all search for, it would be far too easy for him to escape us.’

‘However, if he never knows we are on his trail, we can seize the book.’

Mufarrij nodded. ‘Our goals are not his goals. I do not know what he intends to do with Mohammad’s Koran and the fabled Scroll when he finds them other than to make sure the Ayatollah doesn’t get it. But we must have it.’

Haytham scowled. ‘Is it as dangerous as I have heard?’

Taking a moment to think, Mufarrij sipped his tea. ‘From what I have been told about the legend of Mohammad’s lost Koran and Scroll, that Scroll outlines a worldwide jihad. We know that the Ayatollah has been stockpiling nuclear weapons he has received from Klaus Von Volker. If the Ayatollah can construe the Scroll to call for the destruction of the West and all nonbelievers, he can convince his followers to use those weapons. Even if he can’t control God’s vengeance to smite his enemies as he wishes, the Ayatollah can unleash enough destruction to change the face of the world forever.’

Haytham grimaced. ‘Then we have a most urgent mission upon us.’

‘Now you see.’ Mufarrij turned his gaze back to Evin Prison. ‘First we make sure the American and the Israeli woman are free to pursue their objective, then we kill any of the Ayatollah’s dogs who stand in our way as we take the Book and the Scroll.’

‘The American might not part with those things when he finds them. What do we do then?’

Mufarrij shrugged. ‘We kill him if we must. We were not assigned to this to fail.’

Evin Prison
Evin District
Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran
August 13, 2011

Screams from a man in horrible pain woke Miriam. She sat huddled in a corner of the cell, no longer shackled to the ceiling. Her relocation wasn’t a kindness on part of the Revolutionary Guard. Her body could only take so much pain before rendering her unconscious. She had reached her limits and passed out routinely within moments of being hung from the ceiling.

That had been frustrating for her torturers. She didn’t think of them as jailers. That wasn’t what they were doing in Evin Prison. She tried not to think of all the horror stories she’d heard about the place, but she couldn’t keep the tales from her mind.

Now she sat only in her soaked panties, the floor still wet from the last round with the hose.

The man screamed again, hoarsely. Then someone shouted questions. ‘Where is the book, Professor Namati?’

There was a mumbled reply, then the man yelled again.

‘You will tell me what I wish to know, dog. If you lie to me again, we will cut off another toe.’

Cringing, Miriam pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs for warmth and protection. She imagined Namati as he had been the previous day, as arrogant and swaggering as Lourds was in his own way. Maybe even more so, because Lourds wasn’t as consciously aware of it.

‘Where is Professor Lourds?’

‘I don’t know.’ The hoarse answer echoed through the hallways and prison cells. ‘Please … please don’t hurt me anymore.’

Hearing the man beg for his life was horrible. Miriam could close her eyes and block out the sight of the cell, but she couldn’t close her ears.

‘You were in contact with Lev Strauss.’

‘Strauss was a friend. Nothing more.’

‘He told you about the book containing information about Mohammad’s sacred Koran and Scroll.’

‘That’s only a story, a legend.’

‘So now you contradict your God?’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘Then you contradict the Prophet?’

‘No!’

‘But you refuse to admit that the Ayatollah is next to God.’

‘No!’

‘Then tell me where the book is.’

Namati moaned and cried. Panic and pain twisted his voice, twisting it into something inhuman.

‘Take another toe. We will have the truth from this dog or we will have him dead.’

‘No! No! Please!’

A crunching sound pealed through the hallways, punctuated by a strangled cry of pain that ended abruptly.

‘Is he dead?’

‘No, Colonel. Only passed out.’

‘Rouse him. When he’s awake, cut off another toe for passing out.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Miriam retreated inside her head, summoning up memories of her father, something solid and reassuring to cling to. The two men she’d killed in the Himalayas no longer haunted her, and she accepted that some men had to be killed. If she had the opportunity to kill Davari, she knew she wouldn’t hesitate.

Footsteps scraped the wet floor, and she knew that the colonel had reentered the room even before he spoke. ‘Well, spy? Are you ready to talk now?’

Miriam forced herself to open her eyes and look at him. ‘I’ve said everything you want me to say.’

‘You have not told me where the book is.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You have not told me where Lourds is.’

‘Again, I don’t know.’

Davari grinned. ‘You have not admitted that you’re a spy.’

‘I’m a scholar. I’m here to learn about archaeological history.’ Miriam didn’t know why she clung so fiercely to that lie. Some part of her hung on to her anger just to spite him, and she couldn’t believe her fear hadn’t outweighed that yet.

Or maybe, if she admitted that, she would be less in her own eyes.

‘I am not being gentle with the professor.’

‘Hurting him isn’t doing any good. If he knew anything, he would have told you.’

Davari shrugged. ‘Probably. It does not matter. I am going to kill him anyway. In the meantime, his misery can work to further torture you. That is enough.’

‘Colonel?’

‘Yes.’

‘The prisoner is awake again.’

Davari stared at Miriam. ‘I will be back. Then I will ask these questions once more. It will not be pleasant.’

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