“Sir, I think it’s a bad example for the men to have a general officer flouting my regulations,” Tehama tried one more time.
“Do you think your men will be flouting your regulations because of me, Colonel?”
“I don’t believe they will, sir, no.”
“Then I don’t believe we have a problem here, Colonel.”
“But if the men see you violating one of my regulations…”
“Will that prompt them to go ahead and disobey your regulations?”
“I don’t think so, sir. But it…it shows a lack of regard for my regulations.”
“A lack of regard for some of your regulations, Colonel…like having a cigar after my first space flight, away from the flight line, outdoors, in a parking lot.” Tehama said nothing. “You are free to report my flagrant violation of your regulations to General Edgewater at Air Force Materiel Command, or to Major-General Furness at Air Battle Force. Want their numbers?”
Tehama briefly appeared as if he was going to argue with him, but he decided against it, scowling. “No, sir,” he said, saluting. Briggs raised his cigar to return his salute, and Tehama turned to depart.
“Oh, Colonel — what did you come out here for anyway?” Briggs asked.
Tehama stopped and half-turned, kicking himself for forgetting. “I need to speak with Captain Noble.” He could smell another waft of fine cigar smoke traveling his way and wished he had one himself right now.
“Very well. Carry on.”
Tehama strode quickly yet stiffly over to where Boomer and Nano were loading gear into a staff car. They both saluted their superior officer, but Tehama didn’t return their salutes. His conversation with Boomer and Nano was very short: Tehama stopped in front of them and, with his eyes averted and his face a mask of anger and frustration, said simply, “Benneton, I want the report on the module on my desk by sixteen hundred hours.”
“Yes, sir,” Nano responded, wondering if she had enough time and then immediately deciding, based on Tehama’s pained and angry expression, that she had better make the time.
“Noble, you’re off the flying schedule,” Tehama said. “You will report to the flight surgeon for a complete medical and psych eval.”
“A psych eval…?”
“I find you moody, irritable, refusing to follow orders, argumentative, and distracted, possibly depressed or in some way unbalanced,” Tehama said. “Further, and much more seriously, you willingly violated a major operational security directive by landing during an enemy satellite overfly window period — I shouldn’t need to remind you that we are still technically in a state of war. You’re grounded until I get the report from the flight surgeon. Get on it, both of you.” He walked away without another word, not returning their salutes, or even looking up.
Boomer wore a stunned expression as they watched Tehama walk away. “Can you believe this shit?” he exploded. Nano averted her eyes. “Grounding me is one thing…but a psychological evaluation? If that shows up on my records, I’ll be out of this program in the blink of an eye! I won’t be able to get a job spraying fertilizer over a bean field, let alone fly in space ever again. He can’t do this to me! Maybe he’s the one who’s come unhinged, eh, Nano? Wonder what he and General Briggs were talking about? Wonder if they’d get mad if I asked them?” When Nano didn’t respond, he looked at her, and saw her still looking at the pavement. “What’s up, Nano?”
“I gotta go write that report,” was all she said.
But she didn’t need to say anything else — her blank expression told him everything. “You agree with Tehama?” he asked her. “You think I need a psych eval?”
“You were acting real weird today, Boomer,” she responded woodenly. “You were fighting everything and everyone, wanting to do it your own way. What’s up with that?”
“We do that on every mission, Nano — you know that,” Boomer said. “This isn’t Edwards, Eglin, or Pax River — we don’t always follow a set program because our job is to get the weapon systems in the flight test units’ hands as soon as possible. Before Tehama showed up, no one was complaining when I’d hand-fly a re-entry or land a little hot. Why am I getting shit now?”
“You’re getting a psych eval because you argued with the boss, Boomer.”
“Tehama’s worried about his promotion and his pension — he doesn’t want anybody messing up his perfect little world. We need to get someone in charge here who cares more about putting hardware on the line rather than his career.”
“When are you going to learn that you’re not going to find a field grade officer bucking for general’s stars who’s not afraid of ruining his career?” Benneton asked. “A guy’s been in the service twenty-plus years and he wants everything to go nice and smooth so he can nail down his retirement; he wants no black marks on his record so he can show off a clean, successful résumé to defense contractors or consulting clients after he punches out. Guys like Tehama are looking at the end of their Air Force careers, not the beginning, and they need that job after retirement to supplement their pitiful government pensions. You and me, we get employment offers every week, and for a hell of a lot more money than guys like Tehama will ever see.”
“Hey, I’m not an idiot — I know all that,” Boomer said, the frustration evident in his voice. “But we can do amazing stuff out here if we’re allowed to do it. Technical and scientific hurdles I can handle — it’s the bureaucratic and personality junk that get me angry. Why can’t they just let us do our thing?”
“You sound like a complete adolescent nerd, Boomer,” Nano said. “Go see the shrink, and try not to aggravate him or he’ll put you in a straitjacket and then I’ll have twice as much work to do around here.” She started walking toward her office inside the guarded flight test compound, then turned and shouted over her shoulder, “And I’m still pissed at you for ruining my test flight. Like I said: payback’s a bitch.”
“Is everyone in position?”
“Yes, sir,” Sattari said. “Looks like just a skeleton crew on duty.”
“As we expected,” Buzhazi said. “Let’s do it.”
Buzhazi didn’t usually go for symbology, “winning hearts and minds,” or going for shock effect — it was risky to commit precious men and equipment to anything that didn’t have concrete tactical purpose — but in this particular case, the mission could have tremendous psychological and morale impact if properly executed…
…and if improperly accomplished, he would simply just revert to the original plan: go in and kill everyone who dared stand in their way.
The Faqih Sayyed Ruhollah Khomeini Library of Jurisconsult, located just outside the Jamkaran Mosque and next to the Hazrat-e-Ma’sumeh shrine in the city of Qom, was the largest and most modern of the many libraries of Shi’ia Islamic thought and scholarship around the world. Completed two years after the death of the Imam Khomeini by tens of thousands of volunteers from all over the world, and intended at first to be Khomeini’s final burial place, the library was considered the home of the concept developed by Khomeini of velayat-e faqih, or “guardianship of the Islamic jurists,” in which all law, jurisprudence, and governance should be controlled and carefully supervised by clerics, not the people, scholars, lawyers, royalty, the wealthy, or any elected representatives.
Without question, velayat-e faqih was the root of all evil in Iran. All law in Iran under the mullahs was based on their interpretation of the Koran, a centuries-old book that was as much fable and mysticism as it was a guide on how to conduct one’s life as set forth by God. Getting around the law was simple: just get a more favorable interpretation. Whatever Iran’s parliament, the Majlis voted for could be overturned or changed in a heartbeat by the whim of the faqih, the Imam Mostafa Shīrāzemi, through the authority of the Council of Guardians, and there was no recourse. Shīrāzemi — his real name was Kazemi, but as was the custom after being chosen as an ayatollah, he adopted the name of the city of his birth — was a former commander of the Pasdaran and a close political adviser to the previous faqih before assuming the role of the Supreme Leader of Iran, and he knew how to manipulate the system. He appointed six of the twelve members of the Council of Guardians and had approval authority over the other six members chosen by the members of the High Judicial Council, who themselves had been appointed to their positions by the faqih.