He popped out in the open at the bottom of the hill, about half a mile away from Safavi, who saw him right away. Safavi stopped and switched the briefcase from one hand to the other. Justin gestured for him to keep walking and come closer. At the same time, Justin pulled out his H&K P30 pistol from the knapsack on his shoulders and pointed it at Safavi.
Safavi continued to walk with unsteady steps, glancing at the hillside from where Justin had appeared. He seemed to have quickened his pace. At some point, he raised his hand to protect his face and his head from the sun. Once he was close enough to notice the gun, he shrugged and shook his head.
“Stop, stop,” Justin called out to him. “Put the briefcase on the ground and open it slowly.”
“Why? Is this necessary?”
“Yes. I explained to you it’s our standard procedure.”
“But I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to. Just do it.”
Safavi opened the briefcase.
“Leave it there and keep walking toward me for another fifty yards.”
Safavi shook his head again but followed Justin’s order.
“Now what?” he asked when he reached the spot.
“Get on your knees facing me, lock your hands behind your head, and do not, I repeat, do not look behind you. Got it?”
“Do we have to do this?”
“You agreed to these terms. Now keep your side of the deal.” Justin gestured with his gun at a point on the side of the road. “Right there.”
Safavi shuffled his feet and followed Justin’s orders to the dot. “Satisfied now?”
“Delighted. Don’t move.”
“This is too much. I’m here because I want to be here, not to kill you.”
Justin ignored his words and advanced carefully, keeping his gun trained on Safavi at all times. Once he reached the man, he circled around him. Safavi’s jacket was open. He was wearing no suicide bomber vest or belt. Justin pulled out a pair of plastic handcuffs and snapped them on Safavi’s wrists. He offered no resistance. Justin patted him down and removed Safavi’s cellphone from one of his pants pockets. Once he was convinced the defector was clean, Justin spoke to Nathan, telling him to come out and meet them.
“Get up.” Justin helped Safavi to his feet. “We’re good. That was for your protection and for mine. Don’t turn around.”
“Do you not trust me?”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
Justin walked over to the briefcase. It contained only a thick folder with documents, pictures, sketches, and diagrams. He flipped through the pages. They were mostly in Farsi, but a few were in English. Justin recognized some formulas and sketches he was trained to look for and the universal chemical symbols Pu and U of Plutonium and Uranium, two elements used to make a nuclear bomb. He picked up the folder and returned to Safavi.
Nathan was heading toward the Toyota. He inspected it from a distance, looking for any signs it might be explosive-rigged. Keeping his carbine in a two-handed position ready to fire, he stepped closer to the car. He looked through the windows then opened the doors. He searched the seats and underneath them, and popped the trunk. Once his search was complete, he flashed Justin the OK sign with his arm raised up. “It’s all good here. The car’s clean.”
“You can turn around now,” Justin said.
Safavi’s face was covered in sweat. He was panting. He did a double take when he saw a man in military fatigues with an assault rifle in his hand coming toward them from the direction of his car.
Justin removed Safavi’s handcuffs. “Don’t worry. He’s Mehmet, my partner.”
“OK, and you’re Mohammed, right?”
Civilians. “Yes, I am.”
Justin showed Safavi his cellphone. “You won’t need this anymore.” He removed the SIM card and the battery. He broke the SIM card in half and threw the pieces on the ground, along with the battery. “You won’t need the Toyota either.”
“How are we getting away?” Safavi’s voice carried a hint of concern.
“We’ve got our own transport.”
“What will happen to the car?”
“One of the locals will snatch it. Authorities will never find it.”
“And my friend?”
“What about him?”
“It’s his car.”
“I hope he has insurance.”
Justin had worked out Safavi’s disappearance. He was to borrow a friend’s car for a short vacation in Rasht — an Iranian city on the Caspian Sea — to escape the stress of work. After being seen by many witnesses walking along the seashore, acting illogically, and rambling to himself, he was to get into the water with his clothes on and be seen no more. Then, he was to change into a different outfit and drive to their meeting point.
“You followed our plan to the letter, did you?” Justin asked.
“Yes, I did.”
“And no one followed you?”
“I saw no one.”
Nathan was a few feet away when the Nissan appeared on the side of the road. Ruslan had taken the scenic route.
“That’s our transport. Let’s go,” Justin said.
When they reached the car, Ruslan asked, “Who is this?”
“Our contact,” Justin replied.
“He gave you the information?”
Justin raised the folder. “He did.”
“So he’s not coming with us.”
“Of course he is.”
“Our deal was not to—”
“Listen, I don’t have time for this bullshit.” Justin stood an inch away from Ruslan’s face. “He comes with us. You have a problem with that, talk to Colonel Garryev.”
Ruslan cursed through his teeth. “What are you looking at?” he barked at the driver. “Start the car.”
Justin sat behind the driver, Safavi behind Ruslan. Nathan threw their C8 carbines and knapsacks in the trunk and slid in the third row of seats. The driver started the car, and they continued along the dirt road.
Safavi was perched on the edge of the seat, his hands trembling.
Justin offered him his canteen. “You made it,” he said, resting his hand on Safavi’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to fear now. We’ll be across the border in a few minutes.”
Safavi nodded but did not take a drink.
Justin passed the folder with Safavi’s intelligence to Nathan. He shuffled through the documents. “Is this all?”
“Yes. It’s plenty to convince any scientists that Iran is very, very close to having a nuclear weapon. The rest of the evidence is here, in my mind.” Safavi tapped his left temple. “I will tell you everything I know once—”
The explosion of the window glass and the bullet striking his head ended his sentence. Blood and brain matter sprayed Justin’s face. Safavi’s head slammed again his shoulder.
“What the hell was that?” Ruslan shouted.
The driver panicked. He drove the Nissan toward a pile of rocks at the side of the road. Ruslan slapped him on the back of his head and reached to grab a hold of the steering wheel. Justin snapped his head to the side to look out the window for the shooter. He took in the entire landscape in a quick sweep. Everything was as peaceful as a moment ago. But the defector was dead, blood spurting from the bullet hole in his head.
“See anything?” Justin shouted at Nathan.
“No. Nothing. No shooter.”
“What the hell was that?” Ruslan asked again.
The side window shattered, and Ruslan’s head exploded. His blood spattered the driver and the car’s interior.
“Who’s shooting? Who’s killing us?” shouted the driver. He stared at Ruslan’s blank eyes.