by Aiden James
“Alistair and Amy...set your things in your rooms, and then we’ll talk in William’s suite.”
Cedric stood outside my room with a lighted panatela. Such brazen stupidity, when he acted so cautious in regard to our wellbeing. No similar standard for himself. But then I’ve known this about him for years. He has the luck of a genie, or maybe he’s like the proverbial cat with nine lives.
“Are you hoping for a bigger audience once that cigar sets off the smoke detector above your head?” I pointed to the standard circular model on the wall near my door. Amy’s suite sat between Alistair’s and mine, and she snickered while opening her door. I met Cedric’s mock indignation with a devilish expression of my own. “Hold off on stoking that thing and I’ll get us in here in just a moment.”
“Then quit playing around and open the goddamned door, dude!” he teased.
A few moments later we were all gathered around the table near my window. Dark enough inside the room to turn the overhead light on, I kept the window sheers closed.
“Okay, make sure everyone reads over this several times tonight, so that there are no fuck ups. Am I clear?” said Cedric, after handing each of us a copy of our official itinerary for this mission. “First, we’ll talk about your transportation, which is the only thing not listed on here. There’s a Mercedes SUV parked in the back of this establishment, and inside it, you’ll find all the outboard gear you’ll need while camping in the Alborz mountains. Sam Daniels, our main Middle East contact out here, has already taken care of that. You’ll find plenty of dry food, water, and Gatorade, too—enough to last a week.”
“Is that how long you expect this to take?” Alistair voiced his concern almost absently, while flipping back and forth between the first and last pages. “What happens if things don’t go quite the way you expect? Will the agency be ready to help out at a moment’s notice?”
All great questions, my boy, and each one was borne from experience. Our Chilean disaster from two years ago came to mind the quickest.
“Not only will we be ready, but we’ve equipped you with satellite cell phones, radios, and three flare guns in case you need us.” Cedric handed the Mercedes’ keys to me. “But we believe you should be in and out of Stanislav’s camp with the information we need within two to three days—four to five days tops. Oh, remember the cameras. You’ve got em’ in your wristwatches, and in the top button of your jackets—aside from the cell phones and the standard Nikons we’ve already packed inside the Mercedes.”
“It says here that I’m supposed to let Stanislav take me hostage, as a ruse to get me close to the FGRs?”
I think we all heard the fear and skepticism in Amy’s voice as she flipped back to the first page.
“That’s correct,” Cedric confirmed, his serious tone gaining a compassionate edge. “Now, I know this might be worrying you, given what we all know about Petr Stanislav. But, you’re going to have to trust us on this, Amy. We’ve done a ton of research on this cat, and we’re certain he will make every effort to assure your comfort while he seeks new information from you regarding your father’s research.”
She nodded slightly—a sure sign she wasn’t completely buying what he told her about her parents’ murderer.
“And you expect for these Russian assassins to look upon my feigned expertise in the same light as hers?” Alistair in no way hid his disdain.
He wasn’t buying anything at this point. Yet, I sensed he fully intended to go along with the plan. The strange power of a damsel in distress had gained the upper hand on any concerns he had for his own welfare. Or, he knows from experience that I’ll risk all life and limbs to save him.
“Yes, I do,” he said, emphatically, and then reached over and grasped Alistair’s shoulder. “You will be protected by your extensive knowledge of this area, the people, and your ability to navigate through Sanskrit.”
“There’s Sanskrit involved here?” He sounded surprised.
“Yes, there is,” Cedric confirmed. “Our sources have told us that Stanislav is having trouble finding experts who are adept at this sort of thing. Apparently, Stephen Golden Eagle’s enslavement and demise at Stanislav’s hands has infected the academic community throughout Europe against this tyrant. Since he can’t pay enough to lure someone here, he should be eager to enlist your help, Alistair.”
Now my son was the one nodding, his expression a little hopeful.
“But we’re counting on William to keep close surveillance from just outside their campsite. If ya’ll get in trouble and we need to rescue you, then he and I, and the rest of our Iran contingent will swoop in and get you and Amy out of there. We have plenty of manpower and ammo to pull it off successfully.”
“What kind of ammo will we have to work with?”
My question this time. My comrades at the CIA had better have provided enough weapons and ammunition to clear out this entire rodent nest if it came to that. A few pistols and a rifle wouldn’t cut it, in my opinion.
“Well, since I know how you are, man, I made sure there are plenty of Glocks, assault rifles, grenades, and even a rocket launcher,” he advised, shaking his head I’m sure at my love for dangerous toys. “But you won’t find them in the SUV. They are safely hidden in a little town located in the Alborz foothills.”
“What’s the place called?” I tried to picture it. This wasn’t my first trip to Tehran, as I may have mentioned before. In Alistair’s lifetime, it was my third. But I’ve been here at least a dozen times during the previous nineteen centuries. “It’s not Karaj or a village like Gazor Khan?”
“No. Those locales are not even close to where you’ll be. This particular place doesn’t even show up on a map, and the locals actually refer to it as ‘a town with no name’,” explained Cedric. “These people speak only the oldest Persian dialects. They are averse to all modern conveniences, including plumbing and electricity. Perhaps with a population that has never risen above two hundred souls, maybe there isn’t a need.”
Count me among those who strongly disagree with this thinking. Despite spending nearly two millennia without them, I’m a huge fan of ‘modern conveniences’.
“And that’s where I’ll find our modern weaponry, huh? Did you store it all inside a burlap sack?”
This time, my question was as biting as it looks, although delivered with another shit-eating grin. It seemed like a terrible idea to stash an arsenal in a town where it would stick out like a sore thumb. Especially, since it could land the three of us in an Iranian prison for ten years.
“You’re going to have to learn to trust me, too, Willie boy.” Cedric snickered more in amusement than irritation. “You would think after working so long together you’d know me way better than that! The damned weaponry you’re referring to is stored inside a steel carrier, which is hidden next to an ancient Persian Shrine that looks like a big granite gate. You can’t miss this thing, since it’s about twenty feet tall and carved into the side of a mountain just outside the village. All you’ve got to do is follow the map included with your itinerary, and it will lead you right to it.”
“What kind of shrine is it?” Alistair had his nose buried in the map Cedric mentioned.
“We really don’t know.” Cedric set his empty manila folder inside his briefcase and closed it. Our little meeting had come to a close. “The local folks don’t think much of it—or at least they rarely talk about it to outsiders. The area around it is badly overgrown with thick brush, and loaded with all kinds of vermin that you’ll need to watch out for—”
“Vermin? What kind of vermin??”
If ever there was a deal-breaker for my son’s involvement, this was it.
“Snakes—poisonous ones. Vipers.”
“’Vipera’, you mean.” Alistair moved into his most natural defensive position, dipping into his broad academic knowledge. Light beads of sweat suddenly appeared above his brow line. “That’s how the natives living in and around the Alborz refer to these nasty creatures!”
&nbs
p; “It could be worse,” countered Cedric. He set the locks on his briefcase. “There are scorpions and spiders, too.”
The playful glint in his eyes told me—and should have announced to my boy—that Cedric was only having fun at his expense. Unfriendly critters abound throughout the world, and hell, we encountered far worse than this down in South America.
“Dad, don’t worry about it,” I sought to assure Alistair. “Really, we should be more worried about panthers and bears.”
I laughed and patted him on the back, which is one way I’ve been able to get him to relax in the past. His frown became a sheepish smile, as if he suddenly realized how silly his reaction was.
“I’m not afraid of bugs and reptiles—even the venomous ones,” said Amy, grinning wryly at Alistair. “I don’t mind running my hands through that stuff, as long as I’ve got some gloves.”
“There are three pairs of light-thermal gloves already packed for you in your vehicle.” Cedric took a step to the door after glancing at his wristwatch. “They are puncture proof too. Man, I hate to run, but I’m already late for a meeting at the Swiss Embassy. There are a few things left to confirm for when we head home next weekend. I’ll check in with ya’ll tomorrow morning at breakfast—be downstairs at 6:15 a.m. Are we cool with that arrangement?”
With his hand on the door handle, and one foot already out the door there wasn’t much room for negotiation. But then he paused to look behind the dresser where the room’s TV sat.
“Man, I almost forgot about this,” he said, while coming back into the room and reaching behind the dresser. He pulled out a bottle of wine and handed it to me. “Sam smuggled this in here per my request. Whatever you do, don’t get caught with it. When finished, pack the empty bottle with your luggage and we’ll take care of getting it out of the country.”
“Yet another means to earn jail time in Iran,” quipped Alistair, but then his eyes grew wide when he saw the label. “Romanée-Conti!”
“Think of it as a gift from the good ole ‘U.S. of A.’,” said Cedric, beaming as he watched Amy’s expression soon mimic my boy’s. “Far bigger rewards await for your success in this mission, and this is a nice down payment.”
“Circa 1996…a burgundy like this has got to be worth, what, five to ten thousand dollars?”
Alistair took the bottle from me, gently handling it like the far more expensive artifacts we had uncovered during the past few years.
“If it went to auction…yes. But, it’s only intended for the palates of three very important people. So, drink it wisely.” He moved back to the door. “I’ve got to get out of here—Sam’s probably wondering where I am. See you tomorrow at breakfast!”
“See you then, boss,” I told him, speaking for us all. “Be careful out there.”
“I always am.” He offered one last playboy smile to Amy. Then he was gone.
“So, we’re all good to go with this?”
I closed the door behind Cedric and set the security lock. I then moved back toward my window, confiscating the wine from Alistair along the way, for the time being. I intended to close the drapes entirely, but for some reason felt inclined to peer down into the hotel driveway below us. The limo idled directly below me, so it must have backed up to allow other hotel patrons to park ahead of it. Courtesy that once was common in the states, but nowadays hard to come by.
“I’m good with it,” said Amy, after taking nearly another minute to review her espionage role again. She sounded more upbeat and cheerful than I expected at this point, nodding approvingly as she folded her itinerary and placed it in her purse.
“Me too, Pops,” added Alistair. He had already placed his copy inside the briefcase he brought with him into my room. “I won’t worry so much about the snakes, but I do have a concern about—”
“What the hell was that??”
I had already moved back to the window after hearing multiple gunshots—even before Amy finished her panicked interruption of what my boy was saying. She and Alistair joined me as I peered down below us. Immediately my heart sank. In the fading sunlight, a gray Volvo sedan sped out of the parking area, while our limo driver and his assistant ran over to a body lying nearby…face down in a growing pool of blood.
Even from upstairs I could tell who it was.
Cedric.
Chapter 10
“So, now what in the hell are we supposed to do?”
Alistair had fallen into his panic mode, destroying my hopes of delaying this response until later in the trip. Then again, maybe it was best to get it out and over with right then.
“Well, obviously it’s too damned dangerous to continue here.” I fought to keep my tone detached emotionally. “I’ve already made an initial inquiry into flights out of Tehran tomorrow morning. You would at least get to view the sites in Frankfurt you lamented about yesterday, and then we’ll continue back to the states on Monday.” I added a ‘father knows best’ smile to help sell the notion.
“No...no, we can’t leave yet!” Amy protested. At the moment, we sat around the small table in my room. Alistair and Amy had waited there for my return, nursing their mutual misgivings in my absence. “You’ve got to understand, William, that I’m not leaving without my brother!”
“Do you really need further proof that we aren’t welcome here, in dear old Iran?” I was growing more and more irritated. We had already been over the ‘why we need to leave’ portion of our discussion twice already. “You must have a serious death wish, little lady, and sure as shit these bastards will step up their assaults the longer we linger around here! I can’t think of a more effective ‘Keep out!’ sign than a bullet riddled body left at your doorstep—especially a body as U.S.A. medal honored as was Cedric Tomlinson!”
Yeah, I was getting seriously pissed. I must admit that I don’t do so well with bullheaded females.
“But, Cedric’s not dead, Pops,” Alistair corrected me. “You said so yourself, that he’s in serious condition after surgery. Is he really going to be all right, or was that a load of bullshit you served up fifteen minutes ago?”
Yes, it was the truth. Somehow—miraculously—the nine bullets that hit his torso missed Cedric’s heart, liver, and any other immediately vital organs. Two hit his stomach, and three other bullets pierced his lungs. That alone could’ve killed him—would’ve killed anyone less ornery than Cedric Elijah Tomlinson the Third. But the man is one stubborn SOB.... It makes me wonder what he’d be like if he ever were to become immortal in the flesh.
Of course, some credit needs to go to the ambulance service and the paramedics, nurses, and the surgeon who wasted little time in getting the bleeding stopped and the bullets removed. And all at the fraction of what it would cost in America if he’d been gunned down in the streets of D.C.
“Yes, he is going to be okay...that’s the current prognosis.” I pictured what Agent Sam Daniels told me less than a half hour earlier. I decided right then to take a more relaxed posture, since I was getting nowhere with these two by using a heavy-handed approach. “The assassins might still return for him, and I’ll bet our presence anywhere near Tehran or Stanislav’s operation in the Alborz will weigh heavily in that score.”
Alistair nodded slowly as if trying to digest my point of view.
“Then maybe you two should go back to the states!” huffed Amy.
She leaned back in her chair with her arms folded severely across her chest. Her face was flushed, and her lips became a thin line. She didn’t need to do anything else to tell me that she’d just become a thousand pound dead weight. Amy wasn’t budging on her conviction to stay in Iran.
“We’re not going anywhere without you. And, despite what you might be scheming to do, you’re not going anywhere without Alistair and me. Period.”
I’m sure the scowl on my face did little to enhance my allure to her, but she left me little choice. Even if I couldn’t nudge her to consider abandoning our proposed mission, I’d damned sure do everything in my power to make sure she stay
ed put in this hotel.
“I’m...not...leaving Iran!”
We were losing precious time sitting there, and due to the fact another death squad could be sent to finish the job started by the dudes in the gray Volvo I moved to end our little disagreement and get my kid and our princess on to more important things.
“Okay,” I told her, pulling back my hands in surrender. “You win for now. I suggest we chill for now in our rooms, and I’ll treat us all to a steak dinner in my suite within the hour. Let’s not decide on anything else until we’ve had a full night’s rest and a lot more time to consider all of our options. I promise that I won’t put any pressure on you one way or another...at least for tonight. How does that sound?”
Silence...but at least she nodded, though sullenly. I figured any acknowledgement beyond compliance was a victory at this point.
“How about you, son?”
“I can wait until the morning.” He glanced over at her. She offered him a weak smile and a more emphatic head nod, to which he sheepishly grinned.
“Then I guess that settles things for now,” I said, rising from the table. They both seemed hesitant to follow my lead. It didn’t matter. I’d already made up my mind to wait as long as it took to get them to agree with me.
Even if it took all night.
***
“Then you agree with me on this...yes?” I said, firmly, into the landline handset in my room.
Michael Lavoie was on the other end of the line, and for the past hour, we had filled in missing details for each other. He had the latest on Cedric’s steady improvement as well as confirmation that the Russians undoubtedly sponsored the hit. Me? I relayed the news that my kid and our suddenly surly female companion seemed bent on following through with Plan A.