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countryside, yes. In 2003, fifteen thousand people died in Bam, in the Southeast. The biggest danger is the gas lines. Sometimes they cause fires or explosions. This one was very small. Not a problem,” he smiled to reassure the foreign tourist.

* **

The next time Steve and Yazdi met, they drove out toward the Azadi Monument, a tower in the shape of an upside down Y. Yazdi parked and Steve pointed toward the white marble structure, “Very impressive.”

“Yes, it’s our Arch of Triumph. You can go up to the top. Good view of the city. It’s about fifty meters high”

“I want to do that one day.” He turned his gaze back to his agent, “How’s your nephew? What’s he doing while he’s here?”

This time, Yazdi was ready. “I don’t see him much.”

“Are you sure he’s just visiting? Sounds to me like he’s here for a while.”

“All I know is that he was brought here by al Quds for a special project. You know, it’s not smart to ask a lot of questions of people in special projects. They’re very skittish.”

“Hey, wake up! This is your nephew.” Steve was aware that his suddenly aggressive tone had injected a new intensity between them, and he watched Yazdi closely. Speaking more gently, he said, “I’m not saying that you’re responsible for his past, but since we’re now on the same side, and we both want you to come and live happily ever after in America, you have to tell me more about his special project.

“Am I right that he knows you’re al Quds also? As his closest family here in Iran, he’s going to talk to you. Everyone needs to talk to someone, right? For Firuz, you’re that someone. What do you think he’s doing?”

Yazdi recounted his conversation with Mousavi on the same day that he recognized Viktor Kozak walking toward Mousavi’s office. “It’s got to do with computers, with the ‘Iranian Cyber Army’.”

“The what?” Steve asked.

“It was created by the Revolutionary Guards as an additional weapon for its arsenal. It recruits young people from universities. Some go willingly, and others join only after they’re threatened. It’s an army of hackers, but I don’t know anymore. Maybe the project is to strengthen our defenses against foreign cyber attacks.”

Yazdi scanned the people past them as they sat in the car before asking, “You said that you would help with Steltzer. Do I have to go Germany and start to hunt for him?”

“You’re right,” Steve responded quickly. “Let me remind headquarters.”

This was the first time that Steve openly acknowledged that he was in communications with CIA headquarters to Yazdi, a mistake he realized only after the words escaped him. Yazdi of course would have assumed as much. But now, if arrested and put to the question, Yazdi had something else to reveal, another avenue for the opposition to research.

It wasn’t really a mistake at all since no one was going to get arrested, Steve tried to reassure himself.

 

24. Tehran: Al Quds Safe House

The small apartment Jafar used for his rendezvous with Elizabeth Crossley was located in a building owned by a front company for al Quds; a few of the units were used for official purposes, while collecting rent on others helped fund the organization.

Jafar relished these sessions for more than sex with the beautiful blonde American whore, more than the satisfaction and excitement of using his Persian intelligence to manipulate this highly educated and important woman, more than of proving his own and his culture’s superiority, more than simply fulfilling his counter-espionage mission.

With every thrust he was fucking America, the country that dared preach to Iran that had the most disgusting morals and yet had the arrogance to moralize to others. The followers of Allah needed no counsels about women’s rights from a society that used women’s bodies shamelessly to sell kitchen appliances. Iran needed no counsels from a country with more dogs than people. America was the only country ever to use atomic bombs to kill millions of civilians, then had the audacity to deny Iran’s national right to obtain whatever weapons were necessary to the country’s defense and to rid the earth of apostates and infidels.

* **

Elizabeth, moaning and straddling Jafar, pushed her breasts against his outstretched hands as he let her slide up and down his length, her eyes closed, her face raised, and her blonde hair falling down her back, close to orgasm.

Afraid he was losing control, Jafar reversed their positions. He slowed the rhythm of their lovemaking and, in a commending voice said, “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes. “Oh Jafar,” she whispered, as she fixed her gaze on him. Then she thrust her body upward and shuddered, finishing first and closing her eyes again.

Jafar was angry, but he saw only surprise in her eyes when she reopened them.

“What?” she asked.

He moved to lie beside her, and felt her snuggle against him. “How is your husband?”

She giggled unconvincingly, revealing her discomfort over the ridiculous question, but said nothing.

“Does he suspect anything?”

“No,” she replied, fear in her voice. In a more normal tone, she added, “He’s so busy at the embassy at the Interests Section, I mean. We have little time together, except when we go to diplomatic functions in the car on the way there and on the way back, and then you’re there too.” She laughed quietly and he smiled smugly.

“What’s keeping him so busy?” Jafar pressed.

“I don’t know, exactly. I’m thirsty.” She got up, draped a bath towel around her, and went to the kitchen. “You want something?”

“Bring me a whiskey,” he answered, softening his voice wondering why she was not more forthcoming all of a sudden.

She returned with two glasses, one with water and a whiskey for him. Taking his glass from her, he stroked her cheek, resting his index against her

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