Strike Force

Fattah nodded and smiled. “Lieutenant Saidi is as smart as she is beautiful,” he said. “Rumor had it that you actually stole the plane sent to evacuate you to a safe place? Extraordinary. Anyway, the report said the trio was in quite a rush and headed to Istanbul via Frankfurt. A message was put out to all embassies to watch for you. After you left Istanbul, a very resourceful researcher at the Federal Security Service in Moscow guessed who you might be, based on recent events in Iran, and the word was put out to be on the lookout for you and your parents…”

“What of my parents?” Azar interjected.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Miss Qagev,” the Iranian said. “Once the word was out it was not difficult tracking down two adults and a female teenager traveling together through eastern and central Asia. We made positive identification shortly thereafter, pulled up your files, and then put all known pro-monarchy individuals and Iranian expatriates in Turkmenistan under surveillance, knowing you’d make contact with your underground network.”

“We do not have any quarrel with the Turkmeni government,” Azar said, “and we have broken no laws here…”

“I am sure you entered the country using false papers…”

“We were legally admitted into this country and we have valid visas…”

“That will be thoroughly investigated,” Fattah said. “While that investigation is underway, Iran will file extradition papers with the Turkmeni courts, and I have no doubt you will be turned over to us in a very short time.”

“On what charges?”

“Sedition, conspiracy, terrorism, murder — the list is very long and horrible,” Fattah said. “I am sure the Turkmeni government will be anxious to cooperate. These soldiers will take you into custody and take you to the Niyazov jail in Ashkhabad, where you’ll stay awaiting extradition to Iran. The wheels of justice move slowly in Turkmenistan, but you will eventually return home…as the guest of the ayatollah.” He lowered his voice, turning his back to the Turkmeni soldiers, and went on: “Now, you don’t want to die in a hail of gunfire outside a filthy camel corral in Ashkhabad at the hands of those mostly bored-looking, under-trained, and underpaid soldiers over there, so I’m asking you to come along quietly. I know your bodyguards are well trained and could probably twist those soldiers’ heads right off their shoulders, and mine as well, but I’d hate for anyone to die out here like common criminals, especially a royal princess. If you resist, I can’t be responsible for what happens next.” He motioned to his sedan. “Shall we, Miss Qagev?”

Najar stepped forward, the menace clear in his eyes and body — so palpable was it that the Turkmeni soldiers sensed it immediately and stiffened. Azar scanned the growing crowd around them, but she didn’t see any sympathetic faces. They might scatter and confuse the crowd if her bodyguards could get their hands on those rifles, and they could probably lose themselves in the bazaar easily…

…but then Azar noticed other men in the crowd…and they didn’t look like Turkmeni vendors or shoppers. They looked military but wore civilian clothes, they were less Central Asian — looking, their gazes were sure and steady, and their hands were free, hovering near open coats. They were Iranians, Azar thought, surely Pasdaran — she was positive of it. She turned to Saidi and motioned toward the men she spotted, and Saidi saw him right away too.

“Major, no,” she said softly. “Pasdaran.”

Najar’s eyes darted around the crowd and soon spotted the very same subjects. He looked accusingly at Fattah, then let his body relax and opened his palms. “I wonder what the Turkmeni government would think about Iran bringing in Revolutionary Guard assassins into their country,” Najar said.

“They probably wouldn’t like it very much,” Fattah admitted, “but by the time they found out about him they’d be long gone, and you’d still be dead. Now come along quietly, please.”

CHAPTER 6

HIGH TECHNOLOGY AEROSPACE WEAPONS

CENTER, ELLIOTT AFB, NEVADA

A SHORT TIME LATER

“Here’s the latest update, ladies and gentlemen,” Brigadier-General David Luger said in the Dreamland battle staff room. He was standing before Patrick McLanahan; Brigadier-General Rebecca Furness, commander of the Air Battle Force based at Battle Mountain Air Reserve Base, and Brigadier-General Hal Briggs, commander of the Air Battle Force’s ground forces; and Captain Hunter Noble and First Lieutenant Dorothea Benneton, representing the XR-A9 Black Stallion spaceplane crews.

“Armstrong Space Station will take another day and a half to get settled into its new orbit to start detailed reconnaissance and surveillance of Iran,” Luger went on. “We’re getting a few oblique images but nothing tactically useful yet. We’ve increased NIRTSat overflights and we’ve narrowed the search for Iran’s mobile medium- and long-range missiles to a dozen different sites.”

“One dozen? Doesn’t sound too narrow to me, Dave,” Hal commented.