Siro by David Ignatius (short books to read txt) 📕

saw the Cyrillic type and caught the word “Baku.” “Wait a minute, lady,” he said.

“Yes?”

“This book is from Soviet Union. What the hell is this? Are you KGB lady?”

“No, of course not. The book is about Islam in Azerbaijan. My friends thought you would like it, because you are a religious man.”

“Sure, lady. Okay. Fine. I read it later. What else you got for Ali?”

“I have also brought you a reward from my friends at the embassy in London,” said Anna evenly. “They are grateful for the information you have provided. They will want to be certain that it is true, and back in London they may want to give you a test with the machine I mentioned, to make sure you are telling the truth.”

“The money,” said Ascari. “The money.”

Anna opened the attaché case again, revealing ten thin little stacks of currency, each holding ten ten-dollar bills. Ascari peered in greedily, and Anna handed the case over to him. The money didn’t even cover the leather bottom of the container. The Iranian assayed the thin stacks and, with a grunt of disgust, dropped the case on the floor.

“Bullshit!” he said, waving one of the wispy stacks in Anna’s face. “This is bullshit. This is a thousand dollars.”

“That’s correct,” said Anna. “It is a thousand dollars. A special bonus for the information you have provided. My friends thought you would be pleased.”

“Pleased? Are you crazy? A thousand dollars? Ali Ascari spends this much in one night! I spend this much for my hotel room! This money is an insult. You are saying to me: ‘Go to hell!’ ”

“Calm down,” said Anna. But her words had no effect. The Iranian, convinced that he had been insulted, was working himself into a rage.

“A thousand dollars!” he shouted, throwing the bundle across the room. “Better you should give me nothing.” The little stacks of tens scattered across the rug.

“There may be more money later, if your information is reliable,” said Anna. But Ascari wasn’t listening.

“Do you know how much you are insulting me, lady? I spend that much for a woman for one night! A good woman, too! Not a cheap CIA-KGB whore.”

“I’m leaving now,” said Anna. She rose quickly from her chair and headed for the door. But Ascari was quicker than she had expected. With the nimble feet of a fat man, he bounded to the door ahead of her, stood in front of it, and bolted the chain.

“Where are you going, lady? Ali Ascari not through yet. Ali Ascari want his money’s worth!” He was breathing hard, sweating from his forehead, stretching his fat fingers toward her.

Anna froze. She was stopped by a combination of fear and astonishment that this pathetic little man imagined that he could have sex with her. She wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn’t work. Ascari lunged toward her drunkenly, grabbing at her blouse and pulling it open, so that the lace of her bra was exposed. That unstuck Anna’s voice.

“Get away from me, you fat little fuck!”

Anna reached for her purse, where she had a can of chemical spray supplied by the tech shop in London. But again Ascari was quicker and knocked the purse out of her hand. Oh shit, thought Anna. Her head was spinning. All she could think to do was to scream for help, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to explain to the hotel cops, let alone the Istanbul gendarmes, what she had been doing in Ascari’s hotel room. Stay calm, she told herself. And for God’s sake, don’t cry.

“Let me go now!” she said, holding her blouse and trying to sound cool and in control. “The American consulate knows where I am. If anything happens to me, they’ll come after you. I’m warning you. Stand away from the door and let me go.”

“Shut up,” said Ascari. The confrontation only seemed to have increased his recklessness. He moved toward a desk near the door, reached into the top drawer, and removed from it a stubby knife with a curved blade. It was a letter opener, but still an effective weapon. “Now,” he said, “you better be nice to Ali Baba!”

Oh Jesus, thought Anna. What do I do now? Her eyes darted around the room, looking for some means of rescue or escape. The door was blocked. The windows were too high to jump. Then she saw the telephone, and on the table next to it, the half-empty bottle of whiskey.

“What does CIA lady look like with no clothes on?” said Ascari, moving toward her with his knife. “We see if you worth a thousand dollars.” He waved his blade and made a warbling cry.

As Ascari moved toward her, Anna retreated toward the table. He was talking Farsi now, calling her a whore and the mother of a whore. Anna could feel her knees trembling as she backed toward the table. Do it! she told herself. When she reached the table she lunged, seizing the bottle in one hand and the telephone receiver in the other. Her body moved more decisively than her brain might have thought possible.

“Stand back!” she said, waving the bottle at him. The Iranian, surprised by her sudden motion, took a step back.

“Don’t move!” she said. She tried to dial “O” with the same hand that was holding the phone, but her finger slipped out of the dial. Ascari saw her mistake and laughed at her. She was trying to dial again when he rushed toward her with his little scimitar, shouting something in Persian.

Anna dropped the phone and crouched instinctively into the fighting position an instructor had taught her several months earlier in an Arlington motel room. She leaned one way, then stepped aside as Ali lunged for where she had been. As Ascari went past her, Anna raised the whiskey bottle over her head and slammed it down. She missed Ascari’s head, but hit his right arm hard, just above the elbow. Ascari fell to the floor, overcome as much by surprise as by