Zamani smiled at the look of shock and amazement on Fard’s face as he continued.
“Baibars reneged on his pledge to Antioch’s inhabitants. Instead of sparing them, he ordered the gates shut and massacred everyone in the city. It is thought that 17,000 Christians were slaughtered and another 100,000 enslaved in that holy siege.”
Zamani sat again at his desk prompting Fard to take his seat at the other end.
“I chose the name Antioch for our great campaign out west because I intend on doing what my predecessor Baibars did seven centuries ago. We will attack an American city with what they most fear; a nuclear bomb and then we will close the gates to that city and kill all the survivors of the blast. Even as we speak, our fighters and the former Spetsnaz mercenaries we hired will soon pour into the United States – to deliver our wedding gift. Then we select our target. Of the six cities our leaders have chosen, one now jumps out to me. This man Cris De Niro lives in it, Las Vegas. I believe I can persuade our leaders to not only allow me to pick the name for this great campaign, but also the target.”
“What about this man De Niro, sir? Is he that much of a threat to us?”
Zamani hit the “forward” button on the email that Payam had sent him about De Niro, forwarding it to Fard. An instant later, Fard’s iPhone made the familiar sound of receiving an email.
“I just sent you all the intelligence that Payam dug up on our friend Mr. De Niro. I sent Payam and his men out to his house to prepare a home invasion. I will have them interrogate him to find out if he has any other powerful allies that we should know about. Then they will eliminate him. I want you to find out all you can about this counter-terrorism company he just purchased in Virginia. You ask me if this man is that much of a threat to us, Fard. A man with his wealth, that lost his wife on 9/11 and who now owns a counter-terrorism firm… and we find him parked outside Park51!”
Zamani banged his desk furiously.
“I told our leaders that Cordoba could backfire on us. While Bin Laden concentrates his efforts on Westerners in European cities, our plans in the United States are moving forward unfettered. I’m afraid that the level of our success here and overseas has made our leaders begin to underestimate the Americans. AMERICA IS NOT EUROPE! They will only be pushed so far! We thought because we could use their system of laws against them that that would be enough. Some of our leaders thought that the Americans would just stand around and watch us humiliate them because we have the legal right to do so. I reminded those in Tehran and Pakistan that the BRITISH thought that too and so did the JAPANESE!”
Fard remained quiet, allowing Zamani to compose himself.
“If you want to know the truth, Bahman, I worry more about a man like De Niro than I do about the entire United States government. The United States can be such a foolish nation. With their political correctness, they value an individual’s freedom over the security of their country and we laugh as they do. That’s why we can live and work here and hide right under their noses without them having a clue of what we’re doing. While they claim victory for finding a Pakistani immigrant with a car full of explosives in Times Square, I and others of the faith plan their systematic destruction.”
“It is men like De Niro that have the means and the intelligence to uncover the truth about who their real enemies are. They are not bound by rules and laws like the government agencies are … and he did not strike me as one who is … politically correct. Now he invests in a counter-terrorism firm. His turning up at Park51, troubles me. The timing of it is too close for us to take any chances with him. We must proceed under the assumption that this man is a threat. While Payam will give me leverage over him personally, I want you, Bahman, to find a way to infiltrate his company ...”
Zamani searched for the name on his screen.
“… The Watchman Agency. Perhaps there are some dissenters inside his agency that are not pleased with their new boss. Use whatever means you need, but I want someone inside his firm as our ally, as soon as possible!”
“Yes sir.”
Fard exited Zamani’s office and while on the elevator to the building’s lobby, used an iPhone app to book a one-way, first class flight to Virginia.
Chapter 12
Executive Conference Room
The Foster Lafayette, Pentagon City
Arlington, VA
8:45a.m., Sunday, July 03, 2011
Les Pastak looked at his watch as he entered the luxury hotel … good I’m early.
Searching through the contacts in his phone, he tapped his finger on one and a moment later his call connected.
“Larry, its Les. I’m here at the hotel. Hold on a second …”
Pastak asked the cordial, young lady at the front desk where he could find Mr. Bahman Fard and after looking at her computer screen she gave him directions to a small conference room located down one of the corridors. Pastak headed to it as he resumed his phone conversation.
“Okay, tell me again, this guy Fard is who … they’re an overseas security firm …British …okay and you know for sure that they’re looking for someone to head their U.S. operations … Larry, you made sure they know not to call The Watchman to check on me, right …good, you told them how much I’m looking for … good, plus an expense account, right … sounds good … okay, I’m standing outside the door, let me go, thanks.”
Pastak turned his phone off, so he couldn’t be traced then he straightened his tie and knocked on the conference room door before entering.
“Mr. Fard … I’m Les Pastak.”
“Welcome, Mr. Pastak, please … sit down, anywhere is fine.”
Pastak took a seat directly across from Fard who was sitting with a manila folder opened in front of him, in the center of a small conference table, facing the door. Fard pretended to be reading something contained in the folder; then he closed it and flashed a subtle smile.
“Are you familiar with our firm, Mr. Pastak?”
“Actually, no, not really, except for what Larry … Mr. Woods, from the executive recruiting agency told me about you … that you’re a British security firm looking to expand here in the States.”
“That is essentially correct. We are more of a corporate intelligence firm comprised of over a dozen components, currently located throughout Western Europe, East Asia and the Middle East. It is not surprising that you are not familiar with us as we like to maintain a low profile as much as our clients do. We predominately cater only to Fortune-20 corporations as well as several sovereign banks. We conducted just over one-billion Euros of business last year, which positions us as one of the larger firms in the corporate intelligence and security industry, in all of the largest markets except the United States.”
Fard observed the impressed look on Pastak’s face, so that confirmed one of his suspicions. …he’s money-hungry. Now I must see how discontented he is with De Niro.
“Well, I know that Larry Woods is one of the finest executive recruiters out there and he thought your opportunity ideally matched what I’m looking for—”
“… and what is it that you are looking for, Mr. Pastak?” Fard purposely cut him off.
“Well, Larry told me that you are aware of my salary and benefits expectations—”
“Yes, yes, but is that all you have been looking for? What about the job itself, does anything about it particularly attract you to it?”
Pastak folded his arms while he decided how frank he intended to be with Fard. Fard only allowed a few seconds to go by before reaching down for his attaché case, opening it and placing the manila folder into it.
“Thank you for coming down, Mr. Pastak.”
Pastak unfolded his arms.
“Wait a minute, is that all? You didn’t let me answer your question.”
Fard took out his phone and made believe he was checking his messages as he replied.
“It is apparent to me that you are not being entirely honest with me, Mr. Pastak, or in the very least, you are not being very open with me.�
�
“Mr. Fard, I assure you, I have been totally honest with you.”
Fard acted like he was typing a message on his phone, just to keep Pastak in suspense, then he put his phone away and with a touch of impatience, replied.
“Mr. Pastak, in the spirit of being open and honest, will you share with me why you would be interested in leaving your current firm.”
Pastak fumbled over his words.
“Well, like I said, your offer … I mean your opportunity is what I’m looking for … the money is right…”
Fard stood up, as if unimpressed with his answer. In desperation, Pastak searched for what he thought Fard wanted him to say.
“… and I will finally get to run things, my way!”
With that, Fard stared at Pastak and placed his attaché on the table.
“Is that also important to you, Mr. Pastak, to get the opportunity to run things? Because that is exactly the attitude of the person for which we are looking to head our operations here.”
“Absolutely, in fact I should have mentioned it first, Mr. Fard. It’s really my primary reason for wanting to move from my existing situation.”
Fard could tell that he was setting the hook, now it was time to reel this fish in. He returned to his seat.
“Perhaps, you should have, Mr. Pastak. You see, your resume is fine, your education, your experience are all sufficient - but without knowing the driving factors of why you would change from your present job to our company, I cannot make a determination of whether those same circumstances would once again manifest themselves in your new position with us.”
Pastak looked confused to Fard. These American infidels may all be as greedy as this one, but they cannot all be as dim-witted as him. I better make this easy for him.
“Mr. Pastak, I will … how do you Americans put it … show my hand. Since Mr. De Niro acquired your agency, he has shown signs of wanting to fish in our pond, you understand? We had no competitive problems with your former boss and in fact we had conversations with Mr. Gerolitis about the possibility of our acquiring LDC, but apparently Mr. De Niro has bolder ambitions. We are specifically interested in hiring you to go - what is the term … toe-to-toe, with your old firm and your old boss. Is this something you feel you can do?”
Pastak unconsciously rubbed his chin. He definitely thought he was better able to run the agency then was De Niro or his former-SEAL brother-in-law, but something about the term “toe-to-toe” made his underarms start to perspire. He knew of De Niro’s reputation as a tough Brooklynite with brains and his estimated $9 billion+ net worth. Cris De Niro was not someone that Pastak wanted to spar with.
Fard finally went in for the kill. I’ll appeal to this pig’s greed and ego at the same time.
“Well then, I can see that you’re hesitant, Mr. Pastak. There is a lot at stake for both you and our company. We have estimated the market share that our U.S. operations can establish within two years, with the right man at the helm, at around $150 million. All I can do is to assure you that we believe you are the right man for the job and we are willing to support you with the full weight of our company and its resources, in order for you to succeed.”
Fard paused for effect.
“I am even prepared to offer you a signing bonus of $1 million, predicated on a few reasonable benchmarks … and … if you would accept an assignment before jumping ship, as it were.”
Pastak was overwhelmed. He joked nervously, “$1 million … who do you want me to kill for that?”
Fard flashed his subtle smile again.
“No, no, no, nothing so drastic, but I will ask you, straight-to-the-point, what is the state of your current relationship with Mr. De Niro? I want to know if there are any loyalty issues or any other kinds of issues that would prevent you from running Mr. De Niro’s new flagship into the proverbial ground. Please, be completely honest with me, Mr. Pastak. If there are, there will be no hard feelings and rest assured that this meeting will have never taken place.”
“Mr. Fard, for $1 million dollars I’d beat my own mother in business … after all, it would let me give her much better Mother’s Day gifts, wouldn’t it?”
Fard was confused by the statement until Pastak started to laugh. Between their vernacular and their humor, Americans are almost unintelligible to the rest of the civilized nations. Fard forced a silent laugh.
“I really need you to answer the question, Mr. Pastak.”
Pastak stared at Fard and then after a moment, threw his hands in the air.
“Okay, you want to know what I think of Cris De Niro. I think he’s a pompous ass who is the poorest judge of character and talent. I also know that I got the short end of the stick when he bought the agency. I was supposed to take over when my brother-in-law left! Instead, he gave my office to HIS brother-in-law! It’s too bad your company didn’t acquire us!”
Fard replied quickly.
“So there is no love lost between you and him?”
“Love …no Mr. Fard, there is none.”
“Would you be willing to prove that, Mr. Pastak?”
“… and how can I prove that to you, Mr. Fard?”
Fard opened his attaché and produced a manila envelope. He opened the envelope and carefully placed ten stacks of $100 bills on the table in between him and Pastak, along with what looked like an employment contract. Pastak couldn’t help staring at the money.
“Mr. Pastak—”
“Les … call me Les, Mr. Fard,” Pastak interjected, still staring at the cash in front of him.
“Yes, of course, Les. I was authorized to offer you … this advance of $100 thousand, with this Letter of Engagement that spells out the $1 million signing bonus, the benchmarks you need to meet, to earn it, and your salary and benefits along with your job description as head of our U.S. operations, if you would agree to the following. For the next ninety days, before you leave The Watchman, we would merely like you to inform us of any ongoing or just-starting operations that they are conducting, particularly in the Midwest and western United States. That is the area of our primary focus for expansion.”
Pastak sat back in his chair.
“You’re asking me to commit corporate espionage, Mr. Fard.”
Fard waited a full minute before reaching to collect the cash on the table. As he did, Pastak quickly reached across and grabbed his hand, removing it from the cash and turning it so that he could shake it.
“As long as after reviewing it, I can confirm that this employment contract is all in order ... and as long as all I have to do is tell you basic information of any western operations … no names and no details … we have a deal Mr. Fard.”
Fard smiled, this time more than subtly.
“Welcome aboard, Les.”
Fard took the manila folder out of the attaché and allowed Pastak to use it to carry the cash. As soon as Pastak left the room, Fard took out his iPhone and punched an autodial button.
(In Farsi) “It’s Fard, sir. It went just as you thought it would. He said he wants to review the Letter of Engagement first, but I get the feeling that he’ll probably sign it as soon as he gets to his car.”
“Very good Bahman … return here. Between what that infidel may divulge to us and what Payam tells us, we should be able to deal with Mr. De Niro quite nicely, if the need arises.”
Zamani disconnected the phone and then took a moment to look at the photo of De Niro he kept stored in his iPhone. As part of his belief that one should know one’s enemy, Zamani had studied the Christian Bible. As he stared at his adversary, one line in particular came to him, from the book of Proverbs … When your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you.
Chapter 13
The Coyote’s Den
Estancia De Niro
Henderson, NV
9:45a.m., Monday, July 04, 2011
Motion detectors located at the entrance to the covert installation, now called “The Coyote’s D
en” alerted the three members of ARCHANGEL that someone was outside. Flashing red lights mounted all around the facility and an annoying beeping alarm that sounded similar to a smoke detector needing its batteries changed, engaged simultaneously.
“We got company!” Vic “Riggy” Rigoni shouted unnecessarily to the other two men as he raced into the “sec-com,” security and communications room next to his quarters. Riggy looked at the correct screen amidst a bank of monitors.
Emerging from the bathroom shirtless, with half of his face covered in shaving cream, Karl De May’s size filled the doorway.
“Who is it?”
“It’s our fearless leader.”
A moment later, Spiro Pescalitis, a man much smaller than the other two, came jogging out of his quarters with a cell phone held against his face.
“What happened, did De May try to cook again?”
The large man grabbed the smaller man around his neck, prompting Pescalitis to add, with a make-believe choking tone, “Now I got you right where I want you!”
The sound of the large servo motors at the entrance could hardly be heard from inside, as they lifted the “hatch,” the name the men gave to the camouflaged door. After a moment, they heard footsteps echoing from the ramp leading into the Den and finally Charley Santappia emerged.
“What are you knuckleheads up to?”
All three men walked over to him and shook his hand, then De May disappeared back into the bathroom.
“We’re just about ready to go, if Karl ever finishes shaving,” Riggy replied.
Santappia walked over to the equipment delivered during the night.
“It’s amazing. With Johnny-F in charge of this project and Cris De Niro’s financial backing, this place is getting built about ten-times faster than any government agency could do it.”
“That’s what happens when you keep the politicians out of it,” Riggy added, “… and, Johnny-F and his installation team are as incredible as they are eccentric. I thought us old warhorses had our quirks … but Charley, you have to see those guys. We can hardly understand them when they talk, but man, can they work! Twelve-hour-plus days, six days a week and they hardly ever take a break. They work while they eat, they work while they drink. We even hear them having conversations with each while they’re on the bowl!”
The Watchman of Ephraim (Book Club Edition) Page 9
