Strike Force

“I’ll explain everything when I get home — or someone will.”

“What do you mean? Ed…?”

“I’ll be home in a few hours, babe. See you,” then reluctantly pressed the red button on the phone.

He was never certain, he thought as he turned and headed toward the other completely stunned cadets, exactly where Katelyn VanWie belonged…until now.

“What can you tell me about my parents, Agent Hamilton?” Azar Qagev asked as soon as she donned her headset.

“The Protective Liaison Division agents assigned to your mother and father found your parents’ home empty early this morning, Your Highness,” Hamilton said. “There’s been no word on any of our message lines. We executed the recovery network established for them but they have not made contact with anyone in the system.” Every foreign dignitary in the United States had a plan established where they would go to a particular city and make contact with a certain individual, usually at a hotel, airport, restaurant, or other such public place in a large metropolitan area, in case of danger. In the meantime, the area would be flooded by agents of the Diplomatic Security Services, Federal Bureau of Investigation, U.S. Secret Service, U.S. Marshals, and other federal law enforcement agencies. Unfortunately, foreign dignitaries who stayed in the United States for long periods of time rarely updated or exercised their plans until it was too late to respond to an attack. “It’s still very early, but we decided to make contact with you and take you to a safe location.”

“Thank you, Agent Hamilton,” Azar said.

“Unfortunately, because your father runs his Internet blog and frequently comments on happenings in Iran, the media is all over this development,” Hamilton went on. “It was only a matter of time before they tracked you down to Grand Rapids. And now that your parents have disappeared, you’ll be the focus of their attention. There’s already been a leak to the wire services that Iranian royalty is being protected in the United States, and the FBI and State Department have already received inquiries. I hope you understand how hectic it’s going to be. The State Department will do all it can to shield your movements from the media, but they are very persistent.”

“I understand, Agent Hamilton.” She thought for a moment, then said to Major Najar in perfect Farsi, “Major, I need to contact the Court immediately.”

“Of course, Malika,” Najar said. “I will…”

“Do not call me that yet, Major,” Azar said. “I am Shahdokht to all until the whereabouts of the King and Queen are positively determined.”

“I apologize, Shahdokht,” Najar said. “Agent Hamilton, when is the first chance we will have to access a secure telephone or Internet connection?”

“We’ll return to Grand Rapids, then take a chartered flight to Minneapolis,” Hamilton said. “The FBI office has loaned us armored vehicles, which will take you to a safe house outside the city. They should have secure communications capability in the vehicles. We’ll arrange a secure satellite Internet link in the safe house if it doesn’t already have it.”

“Very well. Thank you,” Azar said. To Najar, she asked in Farsi, “What’s the latest about the insurgency back home?”

“Confused and sketchy information, Shahdokht,” Najar replied, “but it appears that General Hesarak al-Kan Buzhazi has launched a major attack on a mosque in Qom that may have been a safe house for a good number of clerics and government officials. Speculation is that he destroyed the Khomeini Library with his captives inside.”

“Bavar nakardani!” Azar exclaimed. “Buzhazi is either completely insane or utterly ruthless — we need to find out which it is. Major, I need the latest information on Buzhazi, the Pasdaran deployments, and our resistance and intelligence networks in-country.”

“Yes, Shahdokht.”

“Buzhazi is blind with rage and power-lust, Shahdokht,” Lieutenant Saidi said. “He and his followers have narrowly managed to avoid complete destruction by the skin of their teeth. They are outnumbered at least ten to one. The Pasdaran will crush them soon enough.”

“No insurgency of any kind has had this much success — and Buzhazi has taken on the Pasdaran directly,” Azar said. “If he succeeds, or even if he ignites the passion of freedom in the people, we can use it to our advantage. We must learn everything we can about Buzhazi’s goals and plans and see if we can join forces with him.”

“Join forces?” Najar asked. “Princess, Buzhazi was the Faqih’s chief executioner not too long ago — he and his minions killed most of your family and drove us out of Europe and the Middle East. He can’t be trusted. It would be better to bide our time and see what happens with this insurgency.”