The Peregrine Spy by Edmund P. Murray Page B

Amini
    e. lnu, fnu
    Last name unknown, first name unknown, thought Frank. “If we put that in, they’re going to come back wanting us to get his name.”
    “Not to worry,” said Gus. “The station will know it and fill it in. That’s why they pay Rocky and his guys the big bucks.”
    “I’m glad you told me,” said Frank. “Now we better do one on the word from the palace.”
    “’Fraid so,” said Gus. He again switched ribbons. “I’ll do the headings. I don’t know the crypt for palace. The station will. You can write this one.”
    Ident d., an untested source of unknown reliability, Frank began and tersely reported what Nazih had said about the Shah’s recollections of him from Ethiopia.
    “That should stir up a shit storm,” said Gus as he read Frank’s cable.
    “I know. But they’re going to hear it soon anyway, so they may as well hear it from me. How ’bout one more on our no show?” Frank did a final cable informing headquarters that one of their counterparts, Identity E, the colonel from the Imperial Bodyguard whom the ambassador had identified as close to Savak, would not participate in their meetings.
    “That should do it,” said Gus.
    “That should do it, except for an agenda for our Jayface friends tomorrow.”
    “Troy’ll kill us.”
    “I’ll be quick,” said Frank. “Why don’t you go talk cables to him, and I’ll bat it out.”
    While Gus carried their cables down the hall, Frank went to work. He headed his paper simply AGENDA with the next day’s date, 5 NOVEMBER 78. He labeled his first section CIVIC ACTION . He outlined programs the military might undertake in both urban and rural areas. He called on what he knew about similar programs in countries from Ethiopia to Southeast Asia, plus a few ideas like benzene distribution and sewage systems he thought might have particular local appeal. He had just typed SECTION 2 : IMAGE ENHANCEMENT and was halfway through the one-page agenda he planned when he heard a door open behind him. He turned and saw a bearded mountain of a man in a hooded parka, blue jeans, and black cowboy boots filling the doorway.
    “Oh?” said the giant. “And who might you be?”
    “I might be an air force major here on temporary assignment.”
    “Ah.” Frank thought the giant might have ventured a smile, but it was hard to be sure through the vast beard. “You must be Sullivan. Or Simpson.”
    “I’m the Sullivan,” said Frank. “The Simpson is down the hall with Colonel Troy.”
    “Bill Steele,” said the big man. He entered the room and eased the door shut behind him. “I’m the security officer for the branch.”
    “Frank Sullivan.” He stood and reached out a hand. Steele’s handshake was gentle.
    “I checked out that house of yours today. There are a couple of things I’ll take care of tomorrow to tighten up the place best as we can. The electricity needs work, and the plumbing, and we’ll get some steel window screens upstairs. I put some more candles in for tonight—and matches. And a couple of flashlights and extra batteries on the kitchen table. Oh, and I turned the heat on. Should’ve done that before you got here.”
    “Not to worry,” said Frank. “Are you—air force security?”
    “I report to Colonel Troy.”
    “Okay. I wish I’d known I could’ve gotten away with a beard. I shaved mine off before I…”
    “Trust me,” said Steele. “I didn’t have this when I came over. The boss doesn’t mind, and over here it helps. Especially dealing with Iranians. Which I do a lot of.” He nodded at the typewriter. “You going to be at that long?”
    “Another fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. I also need to hit the copier for a minute.”
    “The copier?”
    “Yeah,” said Frank. “It’s an agenda for a meeting with our counterparts. They asked for it, so I’ll need copies.”
    “Well, you better talk to the colonel. Let him read it before you make copies. We’re as bad as the Soviets about copiers. We only got