confirmed. “Our sources have told us that Stanislav is having trouble finding experts who are adept at this sort of thing. Apparently, Stephen Golden Eagle’s enslavement and demise at Stanislav’s hands has infected the academic community throughout Europe against this tyrant. Since he can’t pay enough to lure someone here, he should be eager to enlist your help, Alistair.”
Now my son was the one nodding, his expression a little hopeful.
“But we’re counting on William to keep close surveillance from just outside their campsite. If ya’ll get in trouble and we need to rescue you, then he and I, and the rest of our Iran contingent will swoop in and get you and Amy out of there. We have plenty of manpower and ammo to pull it off successfully.”
“What kind of ammo will we have to work with?”
My question this time. My comrades at the CIA had better have provided enough weapons and ammunition to clear out this entire rodent nest if it came to that. A few pistols and a rifle wouldn’t cut it, in my opinion.
“Well, since I know how you are, man, I made sure there are plenty of Glocks, assault rifles, grenades, and even a rocket launcher,” he advised, shaking his head I’m sure at my love for dangerous toys. “But you won’t find them in the SUV. They are safely hidden in a little town located in the Alborz foothills.”
“What’s the place called?” I tried to picture it. This wasn’t my first trip to Tehran, as I may have mentioned before. In Alistair’s lifetime, it was my third. But I’ve been here at least a dozen times during the previous nineteen centuries. “It’s not Karaj or a village like Gazor Khan?”
“No. Those locales are not even close to where you’ll be. This particular place doesn’t even show up on a map, and the locals actually refer to it as ‘a town with no name’,” explained Cedric. “These people speak only the oldest Persian dialects. They are averse to all modern conveniences, including plumbing and electricity. Perhaps with a population that has never risen above two hundred souls, maybe there isn’t a need.”
Count me among those who strongly disagree with this thinking. Despite spending nearly two millennia without them, I’m a huge fan of ‘modern conveniences’.
“And that’s where I’ll find our modern weaponry, huh? Did you store it all inside a burlap sack?”
This time, my question was as biting as it looks, although delivered with another shit-eating grin. It seemed like a terrible idea to stash an arsenal in a town where it would stick out like a sore thumb. Especially, since it could land the three of us in an Iranian prison for ten years.
“You’re going to have to learn to trust me, too, Willie boy.” Cedric snickered more in amusement than irritation. “You would think after working so long together you’d know me way better than that! The damned weaponry you’re referring to is stored inside a steel carrier, which is hidden next to an ancient Persian Shrine that looks like a big granite gate. You can’t miss this thing, since it’s about twenty feet tall and carved into the side of a mountain just outside the village. All you’ve got to do is follow the map included with your itinerary, and it will lead you right to it.”
“What kind of shrine is it?” Alistair had his nose buried in the map Cedric mentioned.
“We really don’t know.” Cedric set his empty manila folder inside his briefcase and closed it. Our little meeting had come to a close. “The local folks don’t think much of it—or at least they rarely talk about it to outsiders. The area around it is badly overgrown with thick brush, and loaded with all kinds of vermin that you’ll need to watch out for—”
“Vermin? What kind of vermin??”
If ever there was a deal-breaker for my son’s involvement, this was it.
“Snakes—poisonous ones. Vipers.”
“’Vipera’, you mean.” Alistair moved into his most natural defensive position, dipping
Now my son was the one nodding, his expression a little hopeful.
“But we’re counting on William to keep close surveillance from just outside their campsite. If ya’ll get in trouble and we need to rescue you, then he and I, and the rest of our Iran contingent will swoop in and get you and Amy out of there. We have plenty of manpower and ammo to pull it off successfully.”
“What kind of ammo will we have to work with?”
My question this time. My comrades at the CIA had better have provided enough weapons and ammunition to clear out this entire rodent nest if it came to that. A few pistols and a rifle wouldn’t cut it, in my opinion.
“Well, since I know how you are, man, I made sure there are plenty of Glocks, assault rifles, grenades, and even a rocket launcher,” he advised, shaking his head I’m sure at my love for dangerous toys. “But you won’t find them in the SUV. They are safely hidden in a little town located in the Alborz foothills.”
“What’s the place called?” I tried to picture it. This wasn’t my first trip to Tehran, as I may have mentioned before. In Alistair’s lifetime, it was my third. But I’ve been here at least a dozen times during the previous nineteen centuries. “It’s not Karaj or a village like Gazor Khan?”
“No. Those locales are not even close to where you’ll be. This particular place doesn’t even show up on a map, and the locals actually refer to it as ‘a town with no name’,” explained Cedric. “These people speak only the oldest Persian dialects. They are averse to all modern conveniences, including plumbing and electricity. Perhaps with a population that has never risen above two hundred souls, maybe there isn’t a need.”
Count me among those who strongly disagree with this thinking. Despite spending nearly two millennia without them, I’m a huge fan of ‘modern conveniences’.
“And that’s where I’ll find our modern weaponry, huh? Did you store it all inside a burlap sack?”
This time, my question was as biting as it looks, although delivered with another shit-eating grin. It seemed like a terrible idea to stash an arsenal in a town where it would stick out like a sore thumb. Especially, since it could land the three of us in an Iranian prison for ten years.
“You’re going to have to learn to trust me, too, Willie boy.” Cedric snickered more in amusement than irritation. “You would think after working so long together you’d know me way better than that! The damned weaponry you’re referring to is stored inside a steel carrier, which is hidden next to an ancient Persian Shrine that looks like a big granite gate. You can’t miss this thing, since it’s about twenty feet tall and carved into the side of a mountain just outside the village. All you’ve got to do is follow the map included with your itinerary, and it will lead you right to it.”
“What kind of shrine is it?” Alistair had his nose buried in the map Cedric mentioned.
“We really don’t know.” Cedric set his empty manila folder inside his briefcase and closed it. Our little meeting had come to a close. “The local folks don’t think much of it—or at least they rarely talk about it to outsiders. The area around it is badly overgrown with thick brush, and loaded with all kinds of vermin that you’ll need to watch out for—”
“Vermin? What kind of vermin??”
If ever there was a deal-breaker for my son’s involvement, this was it.
“Snakes—poisonous ones. Vipers.”
“’Vipera’, you mean.” Alistair moved into his most natural defensive position, dipping
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