Pandora's Ark by Rick Jones Page B

from fruits and flower
petals. As always he was impeccably dressed in a shirt so white that it cast a
glowing radiance, whereas everyone around him wore the traditional Shalvars or Sarbands .
    Patiently, while
at leisure with his drink, al-Ghazi waited. His contact would be prompt, as
always. So at noon when his phone rang he knew exactly who it was.
    He recognized al-Zawahiri’s voice right away.
    “There is no doubt the Americans will eventually come after
me since they murdered Osama,” said al-Zawahiri. “After today I will stay in
contact through couriers, since I must now go into exile.”
    “I understand.”
    “Do you have the physicist?”
    “Not yet. But arrangements have been made for him to arrive
in Tehran shortly. My men will be there to pick him up.”
    “There will be problems getting him through customs, yes?”
    “Not at all,” he answered. “I have been given assurances by
custom agents at the I mam Khomeini International   Airport that Dr. Sakharov will pass uncontested. If he does
not, then it is understood that consequences will befall those who stay his
passage.”
    “Is he capable of doing the job? My sources tell me that
the physicist has grown infirm.”
    Al-Ghazi took a sip from his Sharbat, the outside of
the glass sweating. “It appears that drink has taken
his body, al-Zawahiri, but not his mind. So what has become Russia’s loss is now Allah’s gain.”
    “Then you’ve done well, al-Ghazi. Allah truly shines upon
you with favors.”
    “I am blessed, yes.”
     “Quickly, tell me of your agenda and then speak no more of
it to anyone hereafter.”
    “The good doctor will arrive tonight and be taken to a safe
house at the northern edge of the city where he will rest. On the following morning
he will then be taken to our base camp in the Alborz.”
    The Alborz is a mountain range in the northern part of Iran stretching from the borders of Azerbaijan and Armenia in the northwest, to the Caspian Sea in the south. The range also borders Afghanistan to the east and seats the
tallest mountain in the Middle East, Mount Damavand, which is well over 18,000
feet tall.
    The range is porous with caves, like Afghanistan. But unlike Afghanistan, the region is highly protected by President Ahmadinejad’s
forces since the area falls under Iranian sovereignty. To breach the area would
be difficult. To find the exact location of the lab site would be almost
impossible. And as far as al-Ghazi was concerned, he was untouchable.
    “And you’re ready, I presume?”
    “Quite. This facility is located deep within the base of Mount Damavand. President Ahmadinejad was kind enough to create a state-of-the-art laboratory
that will be activated by power cells.”  
    “It appears that Ahmadinejad’s nuclear program has more
applications than just an energy resource as he claims. I’m sure he did not do
this from the goodness of his heart.”
    “Of course not, but his stake is a simple one,” he said.
“In exchange for his use of the lab and his continued protection, he
respectfully requests that his team of scientists be given access to all data
regarding Sakharov’s nanotechnology.”  
    There was silence on the other end.
    And then: “We have no other choice?”
    “The facility is well protected, al-Zawahiri. And the
equipment is something the good doctor may understand. Even with my schooling,
I have no concept as to what they do. They are truly state-of-the-art, which
gives us the promise of achievement that would bring us victory over the
infidels in a final assault that would give Allah his true station above all.”
    “I may believe in you, al-Ghazi. And I may believe in Dr.
Sakharov. But I do not trust Ahmadinejad. I’m afraid once this is all set and
done, then he will take it all for himself.”
    “There will be a fail-safe against that,” al-Ghazi returned
evenly.
    “And what would that be?”
    “If President Ahmadinejad should fall back on his
agreement, then I will make sure