Hunt the Falcon by Don Mann, Ralph Pezzullo Page A

States.”
    â€œVenezuela?” Crocker asked, alarmed that the Quds Force was operating in such close proximity to the States.
    She said, “That’s correct.”
    Anders said, “Thank you, Ms. Walker.”
    She sat beside Crocker and crossed her long legs.
    â€œMs. Walker is the assistant director of our Quds Force Working Group. Sy Blanc here is the director.”
    Crocker smiled as if to say “Nice to meet you.”
    The tall, gray-haired man named Blanc stood up. A picture of two men embracing appeared on the screen. He said, “Earlier this year Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad visited Venezuelan president Hugo Chávez in Caracas, and the two men lavished praise on each other and vowed to resist U.S. imperialism—specifically the tough sanctions we’ve imposed on Iran for continuing its nuclear program.”
    Chávez was a highly controversial demagogue who had taken power in 1998, nationalized foreign-owned businesses, and established alliances with the Castros in Cuba and President Evo Morales in Bolivia. He was now dying of cancer.
    Said Blanc, “The Iranians have grown increasingly desperate. Not only are the economic sanctions hurting their economy, but we’ve also been running a number of covert operations aimed at their nuclear program. And they know it. They seem determined to hit us back, and Unit 5000 seems to be the means they’ve chosen to do that with. President Chávez, who has his own issues with us, has been helping them and allowing them to operate on his territory. With Chávez on his deathbed, the Iranians seem to be picking up the pace.”
    â€œWhat do you want from us?” Crocker asked.
    Anders said, “You’ll go into Venezuela in alias. Agency officials there will assist you. Basically we want to find out what Unit 5000 is doing there, what they’ve established in terms of resources, and what they’re planning. To whatever degree is possible, we want you to thwart their operations.”
    â€œHappily,” Crocker replied. “What about the Falcon?”
    Ms. Walker clicked her red nails on the table and said, “We seem to have lost track of him temporarily.”
    Crocker was disappointed. He asked, “Isn’t it fair to assume that he’s behind Unit 5000’s activities?”
    â€œI would have to agree with that,” she answered.
    â€œThen why aren’t we doing everything we can to go after him?”
    â€œBecause we think it’s very likely that Farhed Alizadeh is back in Iran,” Blanc asserted. “And since he’s in Iran, he’s out of reach. Besides, our immediate concern is what Unit 5000 is doing in Venezuela.”
    Crocker nodded. He understood, and he started thinking ahead. He had to contact his teammates, talk to Holly and Jenny, pack his gear.
    Â Â 
    It was 11 p.m. by the time he pulled into the driveway and found Holly sitting at the kitchen counter sipping a glass of rosé and looking forlorn.
    â€œSomething wrong?” he asked.
    â€œYou could have called,” she said accusingly. “I expected you home at seven.”
    He said, “I just spent the last several hours with Captain Sutter.”
    â€œReally?” Holly said. “Work related?”
    â€œYeah. Important.”
    â€œAre you leaving again?” she asked anxiously.
    â€œFirst thing tomorrow.”
    He noticed her hand trembling as she lifted the glass. She took a long sip and threw it toward the sink, where the glass shattered and wine splattered across the window and wall. “You might want to take a look at that!” she said, pointing to a letter on the counter.
    â€œHolly, wait.” He tried to stop her, but she avoided his grasp and left.
    Over her shoulder she shouted, “I’ve had it! I’m exhausted. Don’t ask me for any more help!”
    He picked up the letter, unfolded it, and heard the bedroom door upstairs slam. Blood