Trojan Horse (43 page)

On his third trip to Iran, two years earlier, he’d been given a great gift, a visit with his older brother, Nader. It had been a joyous homecoming as each of them had thought the other long dead. They met in Tehran though Nader said he lived elsewhere, the city unnamed. Hearty, heavyset, gregarious as ever but now with gray hair, he told his younger brother that he was married with three children. “All daughters, alas.” He’d trained as a scientist and did unspecified work for the government.

Rahmani had found family again. The third day of their visit, Nader had taken his younger brother far out into the country into the foothills of the Alborz Mountains in a borrowed Land Cruiser. There, the brothers had set up a small camp; they’d joked, eaten, relaxed. Then, at last, far beyond any possible ears, all pretense vanished as a heavy silence fell between them.

Rahmani broke it. “Our father and mother.”

“They killed them both. Father simply vanished almost the moment he got off the airplane. An informer reported that mother had sent you a letter. She was arrested and disappeared.”

“She wrote me of our brothers. And of our widowed sisters.”

Nader closed his eyes briefly in sorrow as he murmured a prayer.

“I am allowed to see them from time to time. They are okay. Not happy, childless, unmarried, but okay. Perhaps they will let you see them.”

Rahmani said nothing for a long time. “Can this really be our Iran? It is like a prison, my brother.”

“It is not
like
a prison, it
is
a prison. Let me tell you about my work.” Nader had then told him what he did at the Natanz Fuel Enrichment Plant. “We are preparing enriched uranium for our glorious Islamic nuclear bomb.” Rahmani said nothing. “You are part of the revolution now, my brother. An important man, I am told. They trust you or you would not be allowed to see me.”

“I tried to go on, to live a normal life. I had an Italian girlfriend in school. I wanted to marry her.”

“You should have. A good marriage is a blessing. I am very fortunate.”

“But we are having this conversation out here.” Nader shrugged. “No, I could not marry, not with what I planned to do.”

“And what was that, little brother?”

“The mullahs cannot last. They are too corrupt. Iranians will not tolerate a theocracy indefinitely. They came to power in a revolution, a revolution will sweep them away.”

“Just as I thought. You were always the hard one.”

Rahmani told his brother of his mentor, of the night he’d killed him. “I knew he was sick, though not how badly. I told him of my mission but that the price for acceptance was his death and it was too much. He held my hands and told me he was dying. He spoke of his dreams for our great nation, how the mullahs must be crushed. He told me I must pay whatever price was necessary, no matter how hard I found it. He told me he was proud of me. He asked for a week to visit family, to make his arrangements. He gave up his remaining few months so I could wage jihad against the mullahs from within. Still, it was very, very hard. He was a great man.”

Rahmani stared across the land toward the mountains, inhaled the sweet fragrance unique to this region. “From where I am now I do them enormous harm. I’ve already largely neutralized their European operations. Several agents have been executed for failures I arranged. But this bomb—it will change everything. Even Iranians who do not support the mullahs believe Iran should have the bomb.”

“Yes, it will give them many more years in power. And they will use it. Trust me. They will use it.”

“When they do, the West will retaliate. They are not as weak willed as the mullahs believe.”

“They are stupid men. So stupid you would be amazed.”

“What more can I do? You have not told me your duties without a reason.”

“Nothing right now. We are having many problems. This Stuxnet—I’m sure you’ve read of it—has caused much greater harm than is admitted. But they are preparing a new, secure computer center. Once it is operational they will accomplish wonders. Today, we must set up a secure means for me to communicate with you. When I know something vital, I will tell you. Then, if you can, you must act.”

Rahmani was silent for a time, then, “If I am caught and tortured, what we have said today will come out.”

“It is written, little brother. But like you, I will not rest until these bearded bastards burn in Hell.”

“Allah willing,” Rahmani said. His brother met his eyes and repeated, “Allah willing.”

There had been no message after that and Rahmani wondered if Nader had changed his mind or perhaps disappeared. Scientists in Iran were reported to simply vanish from time to time. Then, on March 19, a month earlier, had come this message through the tortuous digital pathway they’d agreed to:

Detonation April 26. Enough fuel from FEP April 17 or 18. Stuxnet no longer delays. Supporting dox attached. Do what you can. Allah go with you. And with me.

His brother had taken a terrible risk in contacting him and forwarding the internal FEP documents to support his claim. While only such evidence would be persuasive to any meaningful power, it exposed him. Rahmani wondered if his brother could escape his fate.

Two days later, Rahmani delivered the information to the United Nations because he did not trust the Americans or British to do anything. But if UNOG failed to act, he’d threatened, he’d take the data to them, and if he had to he’d go public. Somehow, he would find a way to compel the world to take action.

Then this Chinese counter to any new version of Stuxnet had appeared. He’d risked everything giving his brother’s documents to the UN. He continued that risk today. Ahead, Ahmed rode with the mule. Rahmani would stop her. That was why he was here. If he could do it and keep his position as chief of Iranian intelligence in Europe, so be it. If not, he was always in the hands of Allah, the Merciful.

“I have to go,” Saliha said.

“Go where?” Ahmed looked confused.

“You know, in a ladies’ room.”

“Oh. Of course. You can pull over. It is not a problem.”

“What do you think I am? A woman who squats on the side of a highway? There is a town up ahead. I stopped there once before. It has a café I can use.”

Ahmed thought about it a moment. “All right.”

They were now two to three hours from the border and Saliha had decided she’d only have two chances. One would be a stop well short of the crossing; the other would be at the border itself. She’d spent some time considering talking Ahmed into taking the thumb drive across himself. He was here, what did they need her for?

But that led to only one answer. Yes, they wanted what she
had
in Iran but they also wanted
her
in Iran. She slowed when she saw the sign.
YAY-LACIK.
It was not much of a town. The hills were more pronounced now with evergreen growth in the cooler climate.

Behind them, Rahmani slowed with the Ford. He glanced at his watch. Early for a break. The weather was turning nasty. The wind had really picked up and was blasting the car with considerable force from time to time. Sunset was at 7:30 p.m. and that was about when they’d reach the border. He needed to do something soon.

Behind them both, Jeff dropped well back, wondering how he’d pass unnoticed in such a small town.

Daryl had fallen far behind and the plane remained with her. She’d checked her cell phone to call Jeff but there was no signal. She had her spot picked out, Tercan Baraji, an enormous hydroelectric reservoir. The map showed a network of roads leading around it. She’d take in the sights while the other cars drove on. After an hour of delay she’d return to the highway and follow. Easy.

Ahead of Jeff the blue Ford pulled to a stop in front of a small café. There were a few tables and empty chairs. The black Hyundai stopped immediately behind the Ford. The diminutive man climbed out and stretched, looking back the way they’d come, not registering Jeff in his different car. Jeff saw the woman get out and go inside, followed by Ahmed. The bearded man remained without, smoking a cigarette.

Jeff turned into a narrow side street, then maneuvered until he was largely unseen from the other cars but had a clear view of the front of the café.

Daryl spotted the road to the lake and took it. A short distance later she looked up and sure enough, there was the little plane. She could feel the wind herself and wondered what it was like up there. Not pleasant.

Overhead, Wu had been fighting the SportCruiser for the last two hours. The pounding wind was playing havoc with the little plane. More than once he’d thought about just turning around but the red car was just there. And now it was by itself, away from the highway. He banked the plane and descended, maneuvering for the best approach.

Li had thrown up once earlier and apologized repeatedly for it. Still, he’d improved after that and though he looked wan he had the assault rifle between his knees, ready for action. These were CIA agents, certainly armed. Wu was taking no chances.

“Take them out,” Wu ordered. “Careful with the car. We don’t want computers with holes in them.” Wu dipped the plane and cut speed even more. His main concern was a sudden downdraft. He doubted the craft had enough power to overcome anything too precipitous.

Li opened the window and cold air beat into the cockpit. He moved in the seat so he could aim the assault rifle. He had a fifty-round magazine with three more in the war bag. He slipped the weapon to full automatic fire.

Below, Daryl was concentrating on the road. If it deteriorated she planned to turn around and head back to the highway, then find another off road to follow. It didn’t have to go to the lake. It could go anywhere.

Saliha stalled in the restroom. She’d counted on men being gathered here as they always were, but because of the weather there were only two sitting inside, both old. Even if they stood up for her, how far were Ahmed and the other man prepared to go? And once she tried to get away and failed, they’d know, and if she was wrong in her assessment she would certainly be their enemy from then on. She might not even live to reach the border.

Ahmed knocked on the door. “Let’s go. It will be dark soon.”

Saliha stared at herself in the mirror. She felt the knife in her pocket, knowing she hadn’t the courage to use it.
You’re a coward,
she thought. A coward.

As she exited the café she looked at the men. No, these wouldn’t do. It had to be the border, she thought. There were guards there. They’d likely remember her. Yes, the border. That was the best place to escape. As for her family, she’d call and warn them.

Ahmed stood at the bar to pay for his soda as Saliha went outside. He glanced at the television. Startled, he saw two photographs of him, one from his passport, the other of him sitting in a car.
My God!
he thought. He stared in amazement and fear. The picture cut to a serious young woman reading from a script, then a telephone number appeared on the screen. He was wanted, here in Turkey, right now! He glanced quickly around. No one else was watching the television. He dropped a large bill on the counter and rushed out.

Fortunately, Hamid had stayed with his car. Saliha didn’t notice Ahmed’s anxiety as he slipped behind the wheel and joined her. She made a U-turn and drove back to the highway. Beside her, Ahmed stifled his panic. He’d have to avoid getting too close to the border. He needed to tell Hamid about this but when he did it would be just one more sign of failure. Perhaps after Saliha had crossed over and they had a success to enjoy. Yes, that would be the moment.

Just then, there was a distinctive sound Daryl had only heard once before—bullets striking very close to her. There were thuds across the front of the car and the distant sound of rapid gunfire. She accelerated rapidly.

The plane,
she thought,
it’s from that plane!

Overhead, Wu gunned the engine, gained altitude and banked. “Any luck?”

“I shot across the engine to disable the car. If you can come in very low I’ll go for the tires next.”

Wu didn’t like the sound of that. Low was not good. The plane was a lot safer higher up. He looked down and spotted the red car racing toward the lake. He gunned the engine to make a low pass but much faster, much safer than before as he had to catch the fast-moving car. “Make the most of it, Li.”

The strong wind battered the plane and Li had trouble taking aim. As the car came in sight he squeezed the trigger but only let off a few wide shots. The plane just wasn’t stable enough. “We need to make the car the target or give this up,” he said. “It’s too rough for proper aim.” Wu gunned the engine and made a sharp turn to come around for another pass.

Daryl was frantically searching for somewhere to hide, a building of some kind or a natural protection. This road joined a broader, more improved road running beside the lake. She raced toward it, taking the turn hard, the tires screeching. She shifted gears, then gunned along the new road, picking up speed, wishing they’d rented something with more power.

Then bullets slammed into the car, the sound on the roof like very heavy hail.

On the highway Jeff glanced back repeatedly for sight of Daryl and the red Fiat. He couldn’t get used to the idea of their being separated at such a time. It looked as if she’d been right about the plane; once she’d faded back he’d lost sight of it. It was possible it had flown on but if it had she’d have rejoined him by now, assuming the Fiat could catch up. Saliha was maintaining a quick pace.