The Red Cell André Gallo (essential reading .txt) 📖

with the Belgian police, who obviously had the resources, or was he only using the station assets?

Although she realized philosophizing about the big picture was useless, she also blamed Washington, which did not understand Iran was fighting a war, a covert war, but a war nevertheless, with the Great Satan, the United States. Just as several administrations had not understood until 9/11 that radical Islam, al Qaeda in the vanguard, was at war with America. She was just a pawn, and Yosemani would not hesitate to kill her if it was expedient.

She had tried to purge all illogical thoughts from her mind during her time at the Ecole Nationale d’Administration, France’s most prestigious gateway to the ministerships and to the country’s most influential boardrooms. After graduation, she had felt she was the proud owner of a Cartesian mind, “I think therefore I am.” But now she was rediscovering hatred, and the man behind the death of her unborn child had removed her from Descartes’ faithful followers. But was hatred after what Yosemani had done so illogical? As time passed, her initial orderly thinking disappeared and her visceral feelings needed no logical foundations.

She was fairly certain her child would have been a girl. She would have named her Jacqueline. She loved the sound of that name or, perhaps, Alexandra, after her stepmother. It sounded distinguished. Would Steve have agreed to raise their child in France? Her pregnancy was so recent she had not had time to broach the subject with him. She had mentally decorated and furnished Jacqueline’s room during her imprisonment. She had also bought the perfect wardrobe for her baby after diligent shopping at Nordstrom’s, Macy’s, and the Galleries Lafayette.

Her wedding was now scheduled almost a week away. Was her stepmother making the necessary arrangements? What about the wedding dress? She had found exactly what she was looking for during her last day of shopping on the Avenue Louise and had told the store she would be back for it the next day. She could see the wedding dinner and her grand-père’s overly formal and flowery toast, a menu of French cuisine Steve would probably not appreciate, and dancing to a combination of French and American music. Alexandra, her step-mother, was very traditional and would probably arrange for the church service to be in Latin. But would Steve get her out of here in time? Would she still be alive in one week?

Her hand rested on her stomach. She thought of the specific blows that might have caused the death of her baby. Her eyes burned with fire, and she looked forward to getting taking her revenge.

23. Avenue Wellington

Karim smiled to himself, as he saw Gaspard take a seat at the outdoor café, looking satisfied at the prospect of spending an hour savoring Belgium’s most famous export, but also somewhat lost. Karim only knew Gaspard’s previous job had been as a night security guard at one of the Solvay Chemical plants. His days as a policeman in The Hague were long past.

He saw Kristen was on her cell and assumed she was calling the theatre. He wondered also why she was still sitting in the front with the driver. He had vaguely heard the doors locking but had not paid particular attention to the sound. He noticed it was starting to drizzle; Svetlana was going to get wet during her run. His antennas alerted him when he noticed the car was heading south away from the city center. He waited another couple of kilometers and then he tapped on the separation to get Kristen’s attention.

Kristen looked back at him and motioned to McCabe, who pulled over. They had reached a road that led to the Forêt de Soignes, Belgium’s famous Sonian Forest, which had relatively little traffic at that time of day. McCabe opened the partition and turned around to face Karim. “Karim, there is no movie today,” he said. “Your father the general kidnapped one of our friends for no reason at all, and you are going to help us set her free. This is not a movie; this is not a student prank. If you do as I say, you will help to save the life of our friend. And if you do as I say this could be over today.”

First Karim was shocked at the turn of events. Then confused. Then angry, first at Svetlana and then at these two Americans who were upsetting his life, who were reflecting their country’s bullying policies. But most of all at himself because, subconsciously, he knew something like this would happen sooner or later. He had pushed his father’s official functions to the back of his mind, hoping and trusting he could get a degree and go back to Iran to live a normal life despite his father’s activities. But when he had been assigned a bodyguard the day before, he realized he should have asked a lot more questions. He also should have not been so pliant to Svetlana’s ideas, but she had never gotten him in trouble before. Her friend Kristen had been so friendly, and smart, for an American girl. She was also pretty, but he had been naïve to trust her. The chauffeur had taken off his cap and looked very serious. Karim believed him that this was not a joke. And now he knew that noise meant the doors were locked. He looked first to Kristen and then to the chauffeur, trying to understand his situation. What exactly did they want him to do?

“Who are you? If you know who my father is then you know you are in danger.”

“Listen Karim,” Kristen said. “I am sorry, but our friend’s life is in danger. I think what happened is your father made a mistake and kidnapped the wrong person. You can make everything alright. What you can do…?”

“What you will do,” McCabe said, “is call your father right now and tell him