The Ayatollah's Money
Page 30
Chapter 30 – Colonel Aliaabaadi Tracks
The Aya had absorbed a small amount of radiation during his PR visit to the nuke site, but none of the guys working there was about to tell him. Long ago they’d given up hope of fathering any children (normal children, that is), and if others had to suffer the same fate in order to serve the fatherland, so be it, and that included The Big Guy. Now he was back in the central compound, taking it easy after laboring in sacrifice for the entire eight hour trip to the nuke site and back. Another day to be repaid in triplicate when he passed on to that great virgin drenched territory in the sky.
Shazam also was back in the compound, debating whether to tell The Aya what he had discovered after just a single day at his new duties. He didn’t have much hope that his boss would remember the promise to double his salary, but he figured if he did remember, he wasn’t likely to keep the promise, knowing how little effort Shazam had had to expend earning it. Shazam sat on his own bed in his Spartan room deep in the bowels of the compound, wondering if it was worth the risk of holding back on the information for a couple of weeks, and then exaggerating the strife, toil, and personal sacrifice it had cost to produce it. He wished he had a wife to talk this over with; someone he could trust to have his interests at heart. But women weren’t allowed deep in the central compound, the heart and soul of the government and the country, the place where momentous issues were debated and decisions with international consequences made. Except, of course, the Vs. They were permitted, their special services deemed essential to the smooth, efficient, and effective operation of the warren. So Shazam sat on his bed, alone, wrestling with one of the biggest decisions of his life. To scam The Aya, or not?
He didn’t wrestle very long nor very hard. He was, after all, a domestic flunky, not a nervy con man, not a hardened criminal, not a combat trained commando. For the most part, he was a pimp. The fact that he pimped for the leader of a nation on the verge of joining the international brotherhood of nuclear powers didn’t negate the basic fact.
The next morning, after The Aya had received the daily briefing from which he learned that the Israeli stealth clothing now was being issued not just to Mossad commandos, but also to select CEOs and CFOs of certain large Israeli multinational corporations, as if they needed more invisibility, Shazam knocked on the door of the apartment. “Enter, but only if you have something that isn’t bad news,” The Aya yelled. This divine command gave Shazam pause, because he didn’t know of the news he had would be viewed positively or negatively. It could be positive in that it was information about a person or persons who had access to the secret account and thus to the People’s money. But it could be negative in that it wasn’t information about where the money is now, which is what The Aya wants. He wants to retrieve the money and place it safely back in the account where it will be held until the day, that great day, when it will be distributed as a blessing from on high to all the citizens of the great country of Iran. Shazam was sure that was The Aya’s ultimate goal. So right now he wasn’t sure how The Aya was going to take this news, as a positive thing or a negative thing. He stood outside the apartment door, deciding whether to tell The Big Guy or not, distracted by the ephemeral and nagging idea of someday diverting one of the Vs to his place, his bed. It was an idea he entertained often, him being, after all, a normal guy.
Finally he made up his mind, realizing that nothing entirely good could come of this situation, that from here on there was going to be trouble for someone, and if he was in that mix, so be it. He would get his reward later, when all was said and done. He entered the apartment and supplicated himself before the holy one. “Your Holiness, I have some information about the bank account. I found something.”
“Did you find the money, Shazam? Did you find my....er, the People’s money?”
From that statement Shazam sussed out The Aya was inclined to view this message as something negative, which meant he directly was disobeying the order not to enter unless he had something positive to report. Oh shit. “No, Your Holiness, I haven’t found your....er, the People’s money. But I have found information about a person or persons who had access to your....er, the People’s account. I have the address of a house here in Tehran where the person lives who accessed your....er, the account.”
The Aya thought for a minute, weighing the negativity of the report that his money had not yet been found, against the potential positivity that he might find the person or persons responsible for the theft and be able to lash them to the walls of the reactors happily bubbling away deep under the sands of the Persian desert, until their skins melted off. “Show me what you have.” Shazam crawled across the 1400 year old carpet and held the scrap of paper up for The Aya to grasp. “That’s it? Just the address? No names?”
Shazam thought, Jesus Christ, I’ve been working on this twenty-four hours, and I come up with the address of the person or persons that stole your money (please note that Shazam, under stress here, has abandoned the pretext of the money being the People’s money), while the entire Revolutionary Guard Corps intelligence apparatus has for years has been trying to figure out, unsuccessfully, how the Zionist commandos keep tunneling within spitting distance of our nuke sites, and you’re giving me shit? He thought this; he didn’t say it. What he did say was, “Perhaps, Your Holiness, if you were to give the address to Colonel Aliaabaadi, he might be able to find the person or persons, and persuade them to tell you where the money is now. I understand the Colonel can be very persuasive when the situation calls for it. Sir. Your Holiness.” Shazam’s supplication was such that he practically was eating the old carpet, and hoping the day wouldn’t come anytime soon when the Colonel persuaded him to do something.
The Aya said, “Ok, ok. Get up. And call the Colonel. Tell him to come immediately.”
Shazam was up and outta there faster than a Scud missile out of its launcher.