The Ayatollah's Money

by Richard Dorrance

  Chapter 36 – The Chase Begins

  The Colonel wasn’t sure if he was happy about this assignment or not. On the one hand, if he succeeded, the rewards, the earthly rewards, could be large: a promotion, a larger apartment, maybe a percentage of the money he found and returned, as a finder's fee. He wouldn’t turn that down, even though it was the People’s money. On the other hand, if he failed, it could be back to tending camels. It would be back to tending the camels, no doubt about it. So he better not fail. He had some good boys he could put on this; not as smart and tough as the invisible Mossad tunnelers, but plenty tough enough to deal with this Laleh woman, if she was the thief.

  Back at the office he woke two of them up from their mid-morning nap, told them to bring their guns and meet him down in the garage in five minutes. Twenty minutes later they were at Laleh’s apartment, where they broke down the door and entered with guns drawn and teeth bared. From the room at the rear they heard, “Ugh, ugh, ugh.” The one soldier started to break down this door also, even though it was unlocked and open an inch. They entered, the Colonel behind of course, and found Yousef, the third youngest son of Laleh’s parents, in bed with the wife of his brother, Kahleed, the fourth youngest son. Yousef’s wife may or may not have been in bed with Kahleed in some other apartment.

  After ascertaining there were no Israeli commandos in the room, The Colonel entered and recognized the lovers from his visit to Laleh’s parent’s house, thinking, 'Are these two married? I remember them being introduced as something else, don’t I?' He said, “Where’s Laleh? This is her apartment. Why are you here?”

  Yousef looked at his sister in law, raised the sheet and looked down under, looked back at The Colonel, and said, “Umm, well, taking care of a little business, Your Excellency.”

  The Guard Corps guys snickered, but thought, 'Nothing wrong with that.'

  “Where’s Laleh? I don’t care about your business. Where is she?”

  “Still gone. Gone for good, we think. It’s been four months. That’s why we’re using the apartment for, umm, business.”

  The Colonel turned to his boys and said, “Search the place. Look for anything that might tell us where she went.” He looked back at the lovers and said, “Get dressed. Immediately.” He went into the kitchen and sat down. When Yousef came in he said, “I need a photo of her. Of your sister. Do you have one?”

  Yousef said, “I don’t know if there’s one here, but my parents have some at their place. I can go there and get them and send them to you by email.”

  “Uh uh. We go together. The business can stay here if she wants.” They waited while the boys searched, who found nothing incriminating, so they all piled into the 1970s vintage Russian sedan POS and drove to Laleh’s parents apartment. As they walked up the five flights of stairs Yousef said quietly to The Colonel, “Umm, Your Excellency, umm, you don’t have to mention to the elders here that I was conducting business at Laleh’s place, do you, Sir? They’ve suffered such a shock from losing my much beloved sister. You understand, Sir, I hope. They don’t need anything else to upset them.”

  The Colonel thought for a moment, then said, “You have other business ventures, if I remember correctly. Ventures that provide you with rewards of a kind different than the reward you were receiving back there just now from that business venture, correct?”

  Yousef saw the light. “Yes, Your Excellency. Rewards of a different kind.”

  “If, perhaps, you were to share a small portion of these rewards with me and the boys, very small, I see no reason to mention to your parents anything about the conference we interrupted. No need at all.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency. Some of these rewards will be delivered to your office this afternoon. You can count on it.”

  The group entered the apartment and The Colonel demanded a photo. Laleh’s mother went into the other room and returned with a frame that contained two recent photos. She handed it to The Colonel and said, “Have you found her? Our beloved daughter? She’s such a good girl.” The father and the brother raised their eyebrows at each other but knew better than to challenge the statement.

  The Colonel didn’t challenge it either, saying, “We know how much you miss her and we’re doing everything we can to find her.” Then he looked at the photos and said, “Allah and Jesus be praised.” They showed the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. One photo showed her from the front and the other from profile. The profile shot was full body and displayed a physique that made her a challenger to Gwen and Gale in the greatest ass in Charleston department. He looked at the mother and said, “This is Laleh? Laleh Khorram?” She nodded. He handed the frame to one of his Guard flunkies, who took a look and promptly dropped the assault rifle he was holding. Luckily it didn’t go off. The Colonel grabbed the frame out of his hands, not wanting the other flunky to look at it, as he was holding a couple of grenades. When his boys were on a security mission, they came prepared for serious stuff. He said, “Ok,” to the parents and “Don’t forget,” to the brother, and led the way out of the apartment.

  As they climbed down the five flights of steps The Colonel knew what to do. Show the photos to every man within a mile. If any of them had seen her recently, they’d remember. It took three hours to get the first hit. A bus driver looked at the frame and said, “Oh, yes, I remember. I took her to the airport. I look for her every day, hoping she gets on my bus when she returns and I get to take her back to her neighborhood.”

  “Where did you drop her at the airport?”

  “EgyptAir, Sir.”

  At the airport it took half an hour to find a ticket clerk that remembered her and the approximate date he’d seen her, and another half hour for the manager to search the computer records near that date and identify the ticket that likely had been bought by her. He said, “If this is her, and I think it is, she flew to Cairo.”

  “Can you track her there if she got on another flight somewhere?”

  “If she flew EgyptAir, yes. If she got on another airline, maybe.”

  “How’s the maybe work?”

  “Same as here. Any man who see this woman will remember her. I send these photos to our people in Cairo and ask them to show them around the airport, especially to the other airline counter employees.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Not exactly. An offer of compensation for the effort it takes them to remember something like this would help.” He looked at The Colonel knowingly.

  “Do it. Offer the compensation. Fast track it. You too. You produce results, you get compensated, big time. Understand?”

  “Yes, Boss.” He took the photos to his office, removed them from the frame, scanned them, and at light speed sent out a dozen emails with the photos attached. The Colonel gave him his cell number and left the guy with the grenades to monitor the situation while he and the other Guard guy went back to the office. The Guard guy went and took a nap while The Colonel fidgeted at his desk, alternately thinking of a bigger car and how nasty camels are. Two hours later his cell rang, and the EgyptAir manager said, “We found her.” He wondered what his compensation would be, hoping The Colonel wouldn’t give him any shit about virgins in the next life.

  “Where is she? Where'd she go?”

  “London, Your Excellency. The same day she left Tehran and flew to Cairo. London.”

  “Ok. Good work. Someone will be around to see you.” And he hung up. London. He’d never been out of the country. Never been out of the stinking desert. London, here I come.