Larry Bond - Exit Plan

“Do you know where I can reach him, then?”

“They are staying at a hotel in Bandar Kangan. I have the number.” She read it off the slip of paper Shirin had given her. “They may be hard to reach. Shirin said they were going to take several excursions in the area.”

“I’ll try to call him there, then. Thank you, Mrs. Naseri.”

Administration Building, Natanz

Sadi hung up the phone carefully. Major Rahim, standing silently during the call, nodded approvingly “Thank you Major, for your assistance.”

Rahim left without another word, and Sadi felt the muscles in shoulders begin to relax. It was his policy to keep on VEVAK’s good side, but having one of them ask a “favor” of him had been traumatic.

Back in Natanz’s VEVAK office, Rahim told his assistant, “I need to speak to the VEVAK office in Shiraz.”

4 April 2013

0810 Local Time/0510 Zulu

Southeast of Bandar Kangan, North of Highway 96

The sound jarred Jerry out of a deep, intense dream. Whatever the dream had been about was blasted away by a raucous Waah Waah Waah that filled the small cave.

Several of the group, like Jerry, had been sound asleep, but as he sat up, he saw Ramey and Fazel already awake and almost running to the sleeping Iranian couple, also stirring. Before Yousef or Shirin could sit up, the SEALs tore off the blanket and quickly searched the two. Fazel answered angry, confused shouts from Yousef with firm, sharp words in Farsi.

On the fifth or sixth Waah, Ramey pulled a cell phone out of Yousef’s pants pocket. Holding it as if it was a venomous insect, he studied it for a moment, then tugged at the bottom of the case. Removing the cover, he pulled out the battery, silencing the device.

Yousef spoke rapidly to Ramey, but the lieutenant cut him off with a gesture and ordered Fazel, “Tell him I’m going to have Pointy check this out to make sure it doesn’t have any tracking device in it, and ask him if he or his wife have any more cell phones or pagers — anything that pushes electrons.”

Ramey gave the phone and battery to Lapointe, adding, “And see who was trying to call him.”

Jerry stood, still processing the event. Someone had tried to call Yousef Akbari. He hadn’t answered, of course, but what did it mean for them? Fazel was speaking in soft but urgent tones with Shirin and Yousef. Ramey had taken the lookout post just outside the cave, and Jerry moved to join him.

“It’s a good thing he didn’t answer,” Jerry remarked.

“He’s not stupid,” Ramey answered. After a moment, he added, “But he wasn’t smart enough to turn it off.”

Ramey seemed uneasy, and shifted his position several times, not to get comfortable, but to improve his field of view.

“You’re trying to decide if we need to bug out.”

“It’s crossed my mind,” Ramey answered casually. “A lot depends on what Harry and Pointy find out.”

It took Fazel another few minutes to finish his conversation and join them. “He bought it in Isfahan about six months ago,” Harry reported. “He’s required to have one whenever he’s off base, and thought it would be suspicious if he turned it off.”

Jerry nodded. “It would have been.”

Ramey wasn’t as kind. “He should have told us about it. He’s put us all at risk. If they can track it, then they know where he is, where we are,” he reasoned.

“But this is where they’re supposed to be — on vacation.” Fazel answered.

“Let’s hope they still think that he’s on vacation.” Jerry’s mind filled with other possibilities, but it all depended on whether Yousef and Shirin’s deception still held.

“Dr. Naseri also had a cell phone; she says she uses it to talk to her handler. The phone is registered in a fictitious name and they use the Skype function so they can’t be traced. It was off when she showed it to me.” Fazel handed the phone to Ramey.

Lapointe made his report next. “It’s a commercial model, made in Germany. It’s low-end, with no GPS capability, which made it simple to check out. As far as I can tell, it hasn’t been modified. There’s also no tracking device, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have the ability to localize an active cell phone. If you’re looking for one specific phone, it can be linked to the closest tower, whether someone is talking on it or not.

“I put the phone under a couple of thermal blankets and slipped the battery back in just long enough to get a list of the most recent calls. It’s only been used once in the past two days: the incoming call this morning. Here’s the number.”

He offered a slip of paper to Jerry, who gestured to Fazel. “Find out if he recognizes the number.”

The medic took the paper and turned to go to Yousef, but the captain had come to join them, concerned, or even fearful. The corpsman gave him the paper and spoke briefly. Yousef’s face drained of color. Fazel translated his answer.

“It’s Major Sadi’s number. He is my superior at Natanz. They are looking for me.”

4 April 2013

0950 Local Time/0650 Zulu

Natanz, Iran

Rahim gave them two hours, but the Shiraz office called ten minutes short of his deadline. “Captain Akbari’s automobile is parked at Mehry Naseri’s house. It has not been driven since they left on the excursion. I posed as someone interested in buying the car, and while examining it, verified that the tracker was in place. She maintains that the owners will be back tomorrow evening, ‘probably late,’ in her words.

“She also said their Cowin had developed mechanical trouble, so the couple took her car on their trip. It’s a light blue 2001 Peykan. The license plate is Shiraz 21S347. We have e-mailed you all the details.”

Rahim copied the information. “What did she say about their plans?”

“She was happy to pass the time. According to her, they are staying at a hotel in Bandar Kangan, and plan to visit a park in the area, and go to the shore.”

“Good work.” It was a simple task, but Rahim believed in recognizing competence. “Find out what the mechanical problem was. Watch her closely, and compile a list of her contacts. Monitor all communications — personal visits, phone, whatever, regardless of who it is with. This is your highest priority. And send everything you’ve discovered to the Bushehr office.”

“Yes, Major.” Rahim had not told the agent why he wanted the information, or who Mehry Naseri was. Traitor or witness, it didn’t matter. Officers in VEVAK did as they were told.

It was still a few minutes before ten, but Rahim didn’t wait. They’d changed their car. That was suspicious. Yes, there was an innocent explanation, but he’d need some convincing before he bought that story. He cursed his own complacency for not checking the tracker’s location. It would have shown they’d changed cars. They’d given no sign of knowing they were being watched.

The office in Bushehr was less helpful. “Computer records show nobody has checked into a hotel in Bandar Kangan or anywhere else along the coast under either name. We have dispatched an investigator to Kangan with photos to make inquiries. It’s a two-hour drive, and we expect him to arrive—”

Rahim interrupted. “Enough. Send their pictures to the local police in Kangan and tell them to search for the couple, with haste. And have them look for the car.” He told the Bushehr agent about the Peykan.

“Yes, Major.”

“This matter is urgent. I want hourly reports.”

“Yes, Major.”

Rahim hungup impatiently. So, a young couple, off on an excursion. They tell her mother they’re going one place, and then they go somewhere else. They could have changed their minds en route, or gotten to Kangan and decided to go elsewhere. It could happen.