The Tehran Initiative (32 page)

“Are you telling this to the government officials where you’ve sought political asylum?” the anchor asked.

“Of course.”

“And what do they say?”

“It is like they are asleep,” Najjar said. “They hear me, but they are not listening to me. They are not taking any of this seriously. They have all the facts, but they are not taking action.”

“Tell me this is not happening,” Murray said. “How long has he been on?”

“Ten minutes,” Eva said. “Maybe fifteen.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

“We weren’t monitoring the network.”

Zalinsky picked up the phone. “Get me the FBI—counterterrorism division.”

Murray turned to Zalinsky. “What are you doing?”

Zalinsky held up his hand for Murray to wait.

Najjar kept talking. “Just today we learned that the president of the United States wants to negotiate with the Mahdi. Excuse me, but this will not work. This is a dangerous mistake. The Mahdi is just trying to buy time so that he can strike first. I will explain this in more detail in my interview on the Persian Christian Satellite Network. I’m doing a full hour with them, and I will explain everything more carefully, and in Farsi.”

“This is Jack Zalinsky at Langley. I need the director immediately.”

“Jack, what are you doing?” Murray pressed.

“Hello? Yeah, it’s Jack. We found him—he’s at the BBC bureau in DC.
Get your men moving, now.”

37

Hamadan, Iran

David was impatient, but Birjandi suggested they go for a walk.

“Maybe we should just stay here,” David said. “We have a lot to cover and very little time.”

“Nonsense,” the old man said. “You need a little fresh air, and so do I.”

Birjandi led the way, and soon they were outside, slowly making their way up Birjandi’s quiet street. There were no sidewalks.

“I need to ask you a question,” David began. “Have you ever heard the names Jalal Zandi or Tariq Khan?”

“I have not. Who are they?”

“Nuclear scientists. Worked for Saddaji on the warheads.”

“High-value targets.”

“They are.”

Birjandi cocked his head and turned his face to the setting sun. “It smells like a beautiful day,” the old man said, one hand on his cane, the other on David’s arm.

“Yes, it is,” David said.

“Of course, it belies the storm that is coming.”

“War?”

“Yes.”

“How soon?”

“By Monday at the latest.”

David stopped in his tracks, taken aback by Birjandi’s specificity. “Why do you say Monday? How do you know?”

“You heard about the
Washington Post
story?”

“The back-channel discussions between the president and the Mahdi?”

“Yes.”

“I heard it on the radio while driving here,” David said.

“A very foolish mistake by your president,” Birjandi said. “The Mahdi is never going to talk to President Jackson. He has come to annihilate the United States, not make peace with her. This is the final ploy.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Mahdi is buying time to launch a nuclear strike against Israel. I honestly thought the strike would have already come. But there must be some final technical issues causing a delay. That delay is giving the Israelis an opening. Naphtali could move first, and this would be devastating to the Mahdi’s plans. The only leverage on the Israelis is your president. And the Mahdi senses weakness in Mr. Jackson, so he’s exploiting it to the fullest. He’s offering peace. But it is a lie. It’s a smoke screen. That’s why I say if the phone call is supposed to be Tuesday, the Iranian attack against Israel will come sooner. Indeed, it could come at any moment.”

“Are you certain?” David pressed. “Or are you just guessing? Did Hosseini or Darazi say anything specific at lunch?”

“This is precisely what they said. That’s why I’m telling you. You must tell your president before it’s too late.”

“They specifically said Monday?”

“Yes. I asked, ‘How soon will the attack on the Zionists begin?’ And Hamid said, ‘Any day now. It’s up to him, of course, but I suspect everything will be ready by Monday at the latest.’ Then they told me that two of their eight nuclear warheads are on board the Iranian warships that are passing through the Suez Canal today, bound for the Mediterranean. They said the warheads are attached to missiles aimed at Tel Aviv and Haifa.”

“Wait a minute; I thought your country didn’t have the capacity to attach the warheads to missiles.”

“That’s what I said.”

“And?”

“And they said, ‘Last month we didn’t. Today we do.’”

* * *

Jerusalem, Israel

The rotors were whirring at full speed, and it was time to leave.

On cue, Prime Minister Asher Naphtali stepped gingerly out of the ready room, crossed the tarmac, boarded an IDF chopper, and waved at the press corps. At his side was Defense Minister Levi Shimon, taking his boss for a quick trip north to visit the Ramat David air base, not far from Megiddo in the lush and strategic Jezreel Valley. It was a well-publicized trip, the first since the attack in New York, and a transport helicopter filled with reporters and photographers was tagging along. Yet unlike the speculation of some initial wire service reports, the prime minister was not going to review the Israeli Air Force’s ability to project long-range force. Instead, as Naphtali’s spokesman had made clear just before their departure, the PM was going to visit an American-operated Patriot surface-to-air missile battery. The message: with American support, Israel was ready to stop anything and everything Iran was preparing to launch.

On board and in the air, however, Naphtali put on his headphones and turned to his defense minister to restate his intentions. “We need to go this weekend, Levi.”

“I understand, sir. We’re making final preparations while trying not to let the press—or the Americans—see what we’re doing.”

“So far, so good.”

“Yes, it would appear that way.”

“You had a final meeting with Roger.”

“I did. I said you were seriously reviewing the president’s offer but you could not make a final decision until you had clarifications. He said he had conveyed that to the president, and then he left about an hour ago for Jordan to meet with the king.”

“Do you expect any answers quickly?”

“Honestly? No. Not before the president’s phone call with the Mahdi next Tuesday.”

“Which should give us justification, shouldn’t it?”

“You haven’t accepted his request. But you haven’t rejected it either. And you’ve made it clear we’re running out of time.”

“Good,” Naphtali said. “Now, have we heard from our man in Tehran?”

“No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“So we don’t have a final fix on the warheads?”

“No, I’m afraid we don’t.”

“Can we go if we don’t hear from him?”

“I’m not sure that would be wise, but yes, we can. We’ve been running additional satellite passes over all the known targets on our high-priority list. We’re finalizing the target packages now. I’m ready to do a full briefing for you in the morning, if you’re ready.”

“I will be,” the prime minister said, shifting in his seat.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just that . . .”

“What?”

“I need to know who our source is in Tehran.”

“You already know his code name, Mordecai—our eyes inside the Persian palace.”

“No, not his code name,” Naphtali said. “Who is he? What’s his real name? What does he actually do? What’s his rank? Does he have a family? Why do we trust him?”

“Mr. Prime Minister, please, it is better if you do not know such specifics—safer for our asset, safer for you.”

“Levi, I have to know. How am I supposed to make final targeting decisions based on what he says, assuming we hear from him quickly, which I pray to God we do? How am I supposed to trust someone I know nothing about?”

“Asher, listen, I can’t tell you now, here, flying up the Jordan Valley. But even if we were alone, it’s not a good idea. Mordecai has always been accurate, has always steered us in the right direction, up to and including the Saddaji assassination. I have full faith in this asset, my friend. You should too.”

“That was good enough until now,” Naphtali countered. “But this is different. I am facing the most dangerous moment in the history of the modern State of Israel. No prime minister—not even Ben-Gurion or Eshkol—had to make a decision like this. The weight of the world is on my shoulders, Levi. I have to know whom I’m listening to.”

Shimon looked out the window as they flew over the farmlands of Samaria. “I need to think about it overnight,” he said at last.

“Very well,” Naphtali said. “Have breakfast with me tomorrow morning, and we’ll discuss it then.”

* * *

Hamadan, Iran

“Do you believe them?”

“I have no reason not to,” Birjandi said. “They are brimming with confidence, David. They are acting like men who have the wind at their backs and believe Allah is on their side and they are about to see a great victory for the Muslim people. They are so blinded. They are about to bring great suffering to the Muslim world. But I believe the Lord is allowing it all to happen, to shake Islam to its core, to persuade Muslims to abandon Islam and start following Jesus Christ, the only hope for any of us.”

“I need to get this back to my government,” David said.

“Of course,” Birjandi said. “I would have told you sooner, but I realized that I had no way to get in touch with you.”

“I brought you a present to take care of that.”

“What kind of present?”

“It’s a satellite phone. It’s in my trunk. I’ll give it to you when we get back to your house. It’s totally secure. You can call me at any time, day or night. Will you see them again soon, before Monday, at least?”

“Actually, they want me to meet the Twelfth Imam.”

“When?”

“In the next few days. Maybe this weekend. They’re going to call me.”

“That’s good,” David said, brightening slightly. “Actually, that’s amazing. You’ll be in the room with the Mahdi. You’ll know exactly what he’s thinking.”

“No,” Birjandi said curtly. “It’s out of the question.”

“What are you talking about? We need this. You have to go.”

“There is nothing he can tell me that I don’t already know, David, or that the Lord cannot tell me Himself if I really need to know. Which brings me to the most important topic—have you been thinking about what we discussed last time?”

“Which topic?” David asked. “There were so many.”

“The gospel. Have you been thinking about the gospel?”

“Yes, a little, but much has happened since I saw you last. That’s part of what I want to tell you.”

“David, you need to take this seriously. You need to make a decision to receive Jesus Christ as your Savior or reject Him forever. The Scriptures say, ‘But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name.’ But you’re running out of time, and honestly, I’m scared for you. I pray for you night and day.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” David replied. “Let’s not get off the subject.”

“That
is
the subject, David. Now is the day of salvation. Now is the appointed time of God’s favor. You may not get another chance. You don’t know what tomorrow holds. None of us does. You need to humble yourself and repent of your sins and receive Christ into your heart before something terrible happens.”

“We’ll get to all that,” David said. “I promise you. But right now we need to get you in the room with the Mahdi. And then you need to call me and tell me what he said. Do you realize how much hangs in the balance?”

“David, you’re not hearing me. I’ve been in the room with Jesus Christ. He is the King of kings and the Lord of lords. He told me that you were coming to see me before I had even met you, remember? He told me that David was your real name. He told me you worked for the CIA and that you were in love with a girl named Marseille and that I was supposed to tell you things I had never told anyone else. Do you remember all that we spoke of?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then you, of all people, should know that I’m telling you the truth. You’ve got your eye on the wrong person. You’re fixated on the Twelfth Imam, on all the death and destruction and chaos he is planning. But Jesus Christ is the one you need to focus on. He’s the one you need to hear from, not the Twelfth Imam. The Mahdi comes to rob, kill, and destroy, my friend; but Jesus came that you might have life, and have it abundantly. That’s what the Holy Scriptures say, and it’s true, if only you have the ears to hear it and eyes to see it.”

“Look, Dr. Birjandi, I appreciate your concern for my soul. I really do. And I have been thinking a lot about what you said, and I’d love to talk about it. But not right now. My country sent me here to stop the Mahdi, to stop Hosseini and Darazi. I need to track down all eight warheads, and I only have a few hours—at most a few days—to do it. If I fail, then one of two things will happen. The Mahdi will fire the weapons at Israel, and a second Holocaust could occur. Or Israel will launch first to thwart a genocide, but we could see the entire region go up in flames. Our only hope is to find these warheads and destroy them before any of that happens. And for that, I desperately need your help.”

Birjandi stopped walking. He turned to David and took both his hands. “Young man, I am doing everything I can to help you. But honestly, you’re not listening to me. Now go, call your superiors. Tell them about the two warheads on the ships. But as for going to meet with the Mahdi, I simply cannot do this.”

“But why? Can you at least tell me that?”

“Because my Lord told me not to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you before, when you first came to see me. The Twelfth Imam is a false messiah. I suspect he is possessed by Satan. He is certainly guided by demonic forces. And in Matthew chapter 24, the Lord Jesus warns His followers that there will be false messiahs who arise in the last days. Three times in the same chapter He makes this warning. What’s more, He says these impostors will deceive many. He even says some of these false messiahs will be able to do ‘great signs and wonders, so as to mislead, if possible, even the elect.’ But He is crystal clear that ‘if anyone says to you, “Behold, here is the Messiah,” or “There He is,” do not believe him.’ And ‘if they say to you, “Behold, He is in the wilderness,” do not go out, or, “Behold, He is in the inner rooms,” do not believe them. For just as the lightning comes from the east and flashes even to the west, so will the coming of the Son of Man be.’”