“I said I’d do it,” said Belinsky, looking away.
“Have you tried calling him?”
“I just got the go-ahead this morning.”
Frank noticed the jaundiced tone of his skin, the yellow rims circling his pale blue eyes. “You look like you haven’t been following your doctor’s orders.”
“With all this on my mind, I need something to relax,” said Belinsky.
“Not if the something may kill you.”
“These days,” said Belinsky, staring off, “all kinds of things may get me killed.”
“Like what?”
“Meeting with students. Meeting with Shariat-Madari. Sticking my neck out for you and your air force buddy. Setting up a GRU agent, which I guess is what I’m supposed to be doing. It all seems so unnecessary. An envelope full of money. A photographer. Why not have me wear a cloak and carry a dagger?”
“Don’t think about it,” said Frank. “Maybe the best thing is to just do it.”
“Why should I?” said Belinsky.
Because a KGB agent with acromegaly needs you to. Because a guy named Henry James wants you to. Because Rocky told you to. He wished he could tell Belinsky all the reasons.
“I guess maybe you should do it as a way to bail yourself out of the jam you’re in.”
“How’d you find out about it?”
“A source,” said Frank.
“Couldn’t you have kept it to yourself?” said Belinsky. “Or come to me about it?”
“I wish I could have,” said Frank.
* * *
“How’d it go with Belinsky?” asked Rocky. He and Frank sat by themselves in the bubble. Belinsky had left before Rocky returned from the communications room.
“Not good.”
“How come he didn’t wait for me t’ get back?”
“I think he felt pretty uncomfortable.”
“You think he’ll really try to find this GRU guy?”
Frank shrugged. “He says he just got the go-ahead on it this morning.”
“True enough.”
“But he also said he wonders why he should stick his neck out.”
“He should stick his neck out so he doesn’t get it chopped off.”
“It might help if I could tell him about Lermontov, about what’s at stake.”
“No way,” said Rocky. “I’ve got a lot of respect for Belinsky, but right now he’s a loose cannon. The less he knows the better.”
* * *
He read Anwar’s letter that night.
I will never be able to thank you for all you have done for us and for all that your friendship has meant, not just for me and my family but also, I think, for Iran. You do your best to understand us, and if at times you fall short you have come much further than most. I hate leaving this way but this must be the way we leave. Perhaps in America one day we will all be together again, and then it won’t matter that we did not say good-bye in Iran.
Till that moment, he had not realized how much getting Anwar, and Mina, to America mattered to him. He’d been so focused on the importance of getting Lermontov to America that he hadn’t seen how much Anwar and Mina meant to him. I’m becoming my job, he said to himself. I can’t let that happen.
* * *
Colonel Kasravi sat at the long table. “Welcome, Major Sullivan,” said the colonel. “Please join me. Sorry about what’s happening.”
“Fortunes of war,” said Frank, settling into a chair near the colonel.
“His Imperial Majesty summoned me to the palace early this morning, primarily to inform me of my new assignment. He also mentioned that yesterday he had let you know the return of a civilian government would also mean the return of the civilian newspapers.”
He paused and Frank nodded.
“And that we would not publish
Armed Forces Times
.”
“Yes, sir.”
“My new assignment takes me out of the prime minister’s office. I return to the Imperial Guard to work with General Abbas Ali Bardri, our new commander.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I was not cut out for the bureaucracy. Not even in a military government. When I saw him this morning, His Imperial Majesty also suggested I inform you that within a few days he will name General Abbas Karim Gharabaghi as armed forces chief of staff
.
One of my tasks will be as liaison between General Bardri and General Gharabaghi.”
“Congratulations again,” said Frank.
“You can report all this to your government, with the usual restrictions. Ah, yes. And also I am to become a brigadier general. No more the wings of a chicken colonel. Please tell that part to General Merid, but only that part.”
Frank smiled. “I will, sir.”
“General Gharabaghi and General Bardri will rank as the two most important men in our armed forces. If we can restore the monarchy … I think we all realize His Imperial Majesty must withdraw from Iran for a time, but, I can assure you, he will not abdicate his throne. Then, if the monarchy is to be fully restored it will be up to General Bardri and General Gharabaghi.”
“Do you think that’s possible?” said Frank.
Kasravi paused. He looked at Frank and slowly shook his head.
“As a military man, I believe we make our own possibilities,” he said aloud. “And, in my new assignment, it occurred to me, I could benefit from having a direct contact with the American government. Can I do that through you?”
“I … I really don’t know. It might be more appropriate through one of the … through the embassy’s senior military attaché.”
“I have limited respect for your attachés. General Bardri and General Gharabaghi will have official U.S. contact through General Weber, who is here again on a special mission. Through the ambassador and attachés as well. But His Imperial Majesty said you had been useful to him as what he termed a ‘back door channel.’ He recommended I use you in the same way.”
Here we go again, thought Frank. “Perhaps we can work something out.”
“How can I contact you?”
“Through Colonel Troy, the office of the U.S. Air Force Guards at Dowshan Tappeh.”
“Good. I will return to your Jayface meeting with you and inform your colleagues of the changes that affect your group. I will also inform them His Imperial Majesty requires their presence at the palace at fifteen hundred hours tomorrow. He will bestow medals on them all and instruct them to continue their operations. At my suggestion and with His Imperial Majesty’s agreement, Jayface will concentrate on civic action plans the military will initiate at a future date when the current troubles are behind us. Oh, you are to attend as well. You will receive the First Order of the Homayoon for your efforts as an adviser to the Imperial Armed Forces of Iran.”
“I don’t know what to say.” But he knew what to think. Nobody in the good old boys’ coven back at Langley loves an outsider who gets a medal, and Rocky would have another reason for resentment. Then he thought of another problem.
“What about Commander Simpson?”
“The Shah has no interest in Commander Simpson.”
“Sir, I’m sure you can appreciate the … the situation. Commander Simpson has worked well as a member of the Jayface team. If everyone gets a medal and he doesn’t…”
“Commander Simpson should feel grateful we did not expel him after his clumsy effort to recruit a waiter already recruited by
Savak
and J2. Explain it to him.”
“I’ll do my best,” said Frank.
“And I hope you appreciate,” said Kasravi, “that His Imperial Majesty takes these measures to make it difficult for your government to withdraw you. He believes Iran continues to benefit from your presence.”
“I do appreciate that,” said Frank. But I wish it hadn’t happened.
“One other matter,” said the colonel. “Your Jayface colleague Captain Irfani heard what you did to avoid what might have become an ugly incident at the American cafeteria at Dowshan Tappeh. It impressed him that you used a tape by Ayatollah Khomeini. And His Imperial Majesty has informed Admiral Hayati that the Americans are aware of his coup proposal. The Shah did not say so, but the admiral assumed that happened through you.”
“I did manage to discuss it with the Shah.”
“That is all we could ask. Munair, Captain Irfani, has begun to change his mind about you. He thinks perhaps you can be trusted, and he asked me to give you this.” The colonel handed Frank a small package wrapped in brown paper and masking tape. “It is the latest cassette from Khomeini in Paris along with a summary Munair prepared for you in English.”
“Thank you,” said Frank. “Thank Captain Irfani for me.”
“You may be able to do that yourself,” said Kasravi. “He said he would join us.”
Frank and General Kasravi did not have to wait long for Munair to make his appearance.
“Thank you for the tape from Paris,” said Frank as he stood to greet Munair.
“The tape is important,” said Munair, “but I have something much more urgent to discuss. May we sit down?”
“Of course,” said Kasravi.
“Good.” They drew up chairs at the head of Kasravi’s long table. “I thought it important that General Kasravi should hear what I am about to tell you.”
This does not sound good, thought Frank.
“What is it?” said Kasravi.
“This tape from Paris, perhaps, Mr. Sullivan, your embassy may already have it. A man from your embassy, his name is Charles Belinsky. Do you know him?”
“I’ve heard the name,” said Frank.
“He seems very active. They say he speaks good Farsi. He seeks tapes made by the Imam in many quarters. If he is a good man, warn him. He is being watched. He may be killed. So may you.”
“Me?”
Munair glanced at Kasravi. “It is no secret that I am a devout Muslim. I am loyal to Admiral Hayati and to my Shah. But I am devout, and I am in contact with others who are devout, including certain members of
Savak
who have formed a revolutionary
komiteh
that reports to Ayatollah Taleqani. They hope, in fact, to replace
Savak
with a new Islamic organization they call
Savama,
which hopes to take over the functions of
Savak
in behalf of the revolution.”
“We are aware of them,” said Kasravi.
But what the hell are you doing about them? wondered Frank.
Munair’s dark eyes burned into Frank’s. “These men kept watch on your friend Mr. Belinsky. They do not like his contacts with Shariat-Madari, a man as respected as the Imam among many believers, but a man seen by others as a rival to the Imam.
Savak
agents also saw this Belinsky at the airport with Major Anwar Amini and meeting with a Russian known to be a GRU agent. Your American friend Mr. Belinsky helped Major Amini get out of Iran with his wife and children. Right under the eyes of
Savak
. That embarrassed them, made them mad. One
Savak
agent in particular was angry. Someone you know, in fact.”
“Someone I know?” Frank could not believe he knew any
Savak
agent.
“Your Mr. Belinsky’s taxi driver. He drove you to the university.”
Oh, God. Frank remembered what Rocky had told him about the
Savak
officer who had allowed Chuck to recruit him.
“He felt humiliated,” said Munair, “because he also drove this Mr. Belinsky to the airport to help Major Amini escape. And of course he tied you and Belinsky together in that. He did his best to persuade other members of the
Savama
group that they should kill both you and your friend, but they feared they could not touch two official Americans until a certain clergyman, Hojatalislam Qomi Mohhammad, an influential man who hates Shariat-Madari, issued a
fatwa
.”
“You lost me,” said Frank, shaken but trying to pay attention.
“A command that puts all Muslims under obligation, in this case an obligation to carry out a death sentence.”
“On me?”
“Yes, on you and on your Mr. Belinsky. But their real target, the real target of the
fatwa,
was not Mr. Belinsky or you. The real target was Ayatollah Shariat-Madari.”
“I don’t get it,” said Frank.
“Of course not,” said Kasravi. “You are not a Shi’a Muslim. This clergyman could not issue a
fatwa
to kill Shariat-Madari. That would have made a martyr of Shariat-Madari, a hero.”
“Exactly,” said Munair. “We would have seen a revolution within the revolution. This way the corrupt turban man has shown that he is more powerful than Ayatollah Shariat-Madari. People will say Hojatalislam Qomi issued his
fatwa
behalf of the Imam, and Shariat-Madari could not protect his American friend, your Mr. Belinsky.”
“But why include me?” said Frank.
Munair shrugged. “I believe what you did for Major Amini and his family you did from the goodness of your heart, but you and your Mr. Belinsky play a dangerous game.”
* * *
“Pretty impressive,” said Rocky. “A medal from the Shah and a death warrant from some holy man. All in the same day.”
“Right,” said Frank. “I’m impressed as hell.”
“Okay,” said Rocky. “Here’s what we do.” He and Frank sat alone in the bubble. “We go downstairs. You plop your Irish butt down at a typewriter. Start with the easy part. The medals. Do a draft. Triple space it so I’ll have lots of room for edits. This has to be finessed in ways you can only guess. Fritz Weber’s gonna want your head on a fuckin’ platter. If some
Savaki
doesn’t put a bullet through you first. Fritz comes over with a special mandate from the President to get cozy with the military. And he finds you chewin’ on his turf with Kasravi, who’s just been named point man for a coup. And that’s just the start. Then you get a fuckin’ medal. You know how that’ll play in Virginia.”
“Maybe they’ll forgive me if I get killed.”
“The hell they will. You get killed, they’ll just have t’ give you another medal.”
“You sure know how to make a guy feel good.”
“Feel good is not my middle name. You talk t’ Belinsky again?”
“I did. Belinsky told me Anwar and his family got outta here okay. Talked about his GRU job.”
“And?”
“And he worries me. Drinking again. Real down on himself about what he did.”
“He should be,” said Rocky. “He should also get his ass in gear about a meet with his GRU guy. Let’s go to work. You finish a draft on the medals. While I edit that, you do a draft on the death warrant.”