Chapter Two Next Day in Iran

Morning prayers at the Rajab Ali mosque in the Darkhangah district of Tehran draw to a close. Three men stand at various points around the edge of the large assemblage of worshippers. Acknowledging each other’s presence by fleeting eye contact only, one nods and, one by one, they proceed to leave the mosque by different exits.

Each has been instructed that he will be picked up individually by a black Mercedes limousine. One of the men will be picked up directly in front of the mosque on Mostafa Khomeini Street. The second will walk three blocks to the right of the stairs at the front entrance. The third has been directed to make his way around the rear of the mosque and proceed four blocks to the right. Muhammad Abdullah, Kamil Hussein, and Hamid Dakham each wait as inconspicuously as possible at their appointed places according to the instructions each received late last night.

Muhammad Abdullah, twenty-six, is an engineer, his skills such that he honestly believes he can fix anything. A short, slim, confident man, his complexion is dark but ruddy, his eyes deep brown. He wears western dress, a plaid cotton shirt, a pair of khakis and sneakers. A tracery of black beard outlines his chin. A friend of Hussein and Dakham, he’s waiting as he was directed to but with no idea why.

Kamil Hussein and Hamid Dakham are both Iranian Secret Service operatives, both in their mid-twenties and single. Both believe that Iran will take its rightful place as leader of the Middle East and will one day fulfill its destiny, to conquer the West.

Hussein, fair complected for an Iranian, stands almost six feet tall, with dark brown eyes and short black hair. He’s clean shaven, and wears an embroidered tunic over loose grey pants. More than anything, Hussein waits for his opportunity to be a hero within the Islamic revolution. A passionate and fearless man, analytical thinking often takes a backseat to his emotions. In spite of this, the Iranian Secret Service considers him a valuable asset.

Dakham wears a white kufi hat over thick black hair that continues on into a shaggy full beard and mustache. Shorter and a bit stouter than Hussein, he’s dressed in an elongated black linen jacket, buttoned to the neck, over white pants. His is of deep olive complexion and he wears heavily-framed black glasses. Though he tends to follow rather than lead, he’s the clearer thinker of the two.