Larry Bond - Exit Plan

After a while he caught Lapointe’s eye and the petty officer came over. He didn’t wait for Jerry’s question. “Harry’s just pissed, XO. He’s pissed about Higgs and about being cooped up here in this cave, and right now he’s especially pissed about having to breathe the same air as the captain over there.”

“We’re all cooped up, Pointy.”

“Remember what I said about sympathy, sir.” Lapointe grinned.

Jerry nodded, smiling. “I get it, but what about Akbari? The guy’s on our side.”

“Harry told me he considers the captain a double traitor, first to the Iranian people, then to his own service.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

“I’ve known Fazel for a long time, and I’d heard about him before that. He’s obviously the perfect man for this mission, but it’s tearing him up. He told us about his family back in Cincinnati. How his parents got out of Iran, and what they’d lost. His family really suffered, and they didn’t hide this from their children. Coming here is making it all too real for him.

“He’s got a lot of relatives up north, near Tehran. They try to keep in touch, but too much contact and the secret police will come for them, too. That Pasdaran officer over there is exactly what he’s been taught to hate.”

“What about you, Pointy? Does your job include referee?”

“Priest, counselor, and batting coach, as needed, XO. You know the drill. The problem is, we’ve got too much time to think right now.”

Jerry wasn’t sure how much Ramey had slept. He’d been on lookout when Jerry fell asleep last night, and had been awake already when Yousef’s cell phone had rung.

Whatever his fatigue, Ramey was full of pent-up energy. Jerry watched the team leader check the cave’s camouflage and lines of sight. Then he double-checked his gear and each team member’s equipment, one after another. He’d even explored the cave itself, which took an unsatisfyingly short time.

Finally, he’d sat down facing Shirin and Yousef, who’d stayed huddled under the thermal blanket, in spite of the day’s warmth. The two had spoken softly, perhaps planning, or praying, for all the Farsi that Jerry understood. As he approached, they watched him silently.

“Ma’am, I think you should give us the encryption key.”

Shirin’s expression hardened. “What reason could I have for giving it to you?

“So that if anything happens to you and your husband, we can still get the information you have to our people.”

She nodded. “And that is exactly why we will keep it. Without us, you have nothing.”

“Ma’am, we’re not going to leave you behind. I thought you wanted the world to know about Iran’s nuclear weapons program. Telling us the key increases the chance of that happening.”

“No.” Her tone was as hard as her expression. “Why was the boat canceled last night? The one that would have taken us to your submarine.”

“Too many boat patrols. It was too risky.”

“If you had been more willing to take risks, we would be aboard your submarine right now, not hiding in a cave.”

“Ma’am, we took risks on this mission you can hardly imagine. One of my men is dead because of the risks we took.” He sighed, a sound that mixed sadness and frustration. “There are good risks and bad ones. You have to judge them carefully.”

“My husband and I know all about risk, Mr. SEAL. We have been stealing and sending secret information to your government for years, while VEVAK watched every move we made. Every day, every hour, I worried if we had given ourselves away somehow, if they were coming to arrest us. Can you imagine being afraid of every knock on the door, every phone call?”

Her voice rose. “And do you know what we were risking? Being called traitors by the ones we love would be the easiest part. Have you ever heard of Evin Prison? Do you know what would happen to Yousef and me in that hateful place? Yousef’s brother was taken there and never came out. I have prayed that he died quickly. What a terrible thing to pray for.”

“We’ll get out of here, and I give you my word that we’ll all get out together.”

“But it isn’t your decision, Mr. SEAL. Others have to take risks. They must want to come and get us. Us.” She pointed to Yousef and herself. “Not the files. I have the baby to consider. And there are other things we know, not in the files, even more important.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. What things?”

“Get us to your submarine, let them read the files. Then they will listen to us.”

“I’m listening now.”

“No.”

4 April 2013

1500 Local Time/1200 Zulu

Bandar Kangan

The helicopter from Bushehr landed at an athletic field near the edge of town. They were waiting to meet him. A police jeep in one corner headed toward his aircraft as soon as the engines spooled down.

A young man in civilian clothes hurried over as the helicopter’s door opened. “Major? I’m Karim Dahghan, from the Bushehr office.”

Rahim stepped from the helicopter and walked quickly toward the jeep. “You will be my assistant while I’m here.”

“Yes, sir.” Dahghan managed to look pleased and worried at the same time. As they approached the jeep, a young officer in a police uniform saluted.

“This is Lieutenant Rastkar. He commands Kangan’s police.”

Rastkar, standing next to the jeep, offered his hand. “We’ve made space for you and Mr. Dahghan at the barracks.”

Rahim climbed in back, with Dahghan next to him. Rastkar sat in front, next to the police driver, and said, “Go.”

Turning in his seat to face Rahim, he explained, “Kangan is a small town. We will be at headquarters in just a few minutes. We have already made progress. The couple you asked about was seen in several places yesterday.”

Dahghan continued, “We found the hotel they were staying at, registered for two nights. They used the name ‘Fardid.’ They did not return to their room last night. The last sighting we have of them is in the early evening. We are still assembling a time line of their movements.”

Kangan really was a small town, little more than a fishing village. The police barracks was a jumbled one-story structure that had seen several additions, but was in need of renovation. The barracks was full of activity, and Rastkar explained, “Normally we deal with a little smuggling, some domestic cases. A manhunt is much more interesting.”

The space they’d set aside for Rahim and Dahghan was clean, if rundown. Several documents were waiting on one corner of a desk, and Rahim set down his valise and quickly skimmed them. The others waited patiently.

“Their car was seen outside town.” It was a flat statement to Dahghan.

“Yes, sir. We interviewed the two Basij soldiers who found the vehicle. It was parked just off Highway 96. It was locked, with nobody in the vehicle or nearby. There was nothing suspicious, so they noted the license plate and continued their patrol. When they returned on the next leg of their patrol, an hour later, the vehicle was gone.”

“And this was in the early evening, yesterday.”

“A short time after sunset, Major.”

Rahim sat down, looking thoughtful. Rastkar asked, “May I know what offense these people have committed? My officers have asked if they may be violent, or armed.”

The major answered, “Their specific offense is not your concern. Akbari is a Pasdaran officer, and most likely is armed. Our first priority is to find them. Once we do, it is important that they be taken alive. There are many questions I want to ask them. Your officers must not shoot them, no matter the provocation.”