Satan's Spy (The Steve Church saga Book 2) by André Gallo (most inspirational books of all time TXT) 📕

Langdon continued. “Since our elections, our policy toward Iran has changed dramatically.” She took a sip of water from a glass on a shelf inside the podium. “Iran should be the capstone of our Middle East policy. Where we were not even on speaking terms during the eight years of the previous administration, we now have a gradually warming dialogue. As a symbol of our new policy, the Iranian Government has allowed us to station American diplomats in Tehran. The American Interests Section in the Swiss Embassy is now run by American Foreign Service Officers. Our diplomats have daily contacts with their Iranian counterparts, a vast improvement from the last administration. Relations cannot improve without direct communications, and those communications are now in place and working.

“As you know, an article appeared in the Washington Tribune on Tuesday concerning CIA activities in Iran. According to the rules set up many years ago, the CIA is obliged to brief the oversight committees before undertaking major new operations. We need to ensure the American people that the CIA’s activities are hand-in-glove with our foreign policy and reflect American values. However, in this instance, and there may be others that we don’t know about yet--we would not know about this activity had it not been for the Washington Tribune...”

She paused and looked at her audience to emphasize her next statement.

“Neither I, nor this committee,” she continued, “was told beforehand of this CIA activity, which is not in keeping with the new relations we are beginning to enjoy with Iran, a country with a great history and a wonderful culture, a country with which we must work to promote American vital interests in the region.

“In brief, I have asked Congressional leaders to appoint an investigating committee to determine what other activities the CIA may be involved in, or be planning that it has forgotten to share with my committee.”

41. Tehran: President’s Office

Acting Minister for Intelligence Mousavi returned the guard’s salute as he entered the building on Pasteur, one of the few streets that had not been renamed after the Revolution. The street was closed off; he had left the car and his driver at the barriers. The Supreme Leader’s offices were in the same compound behind another barrier and set of guards.

Mousavi, somewhat less disheveled than usual made his way down the corridor accompanied by an aide to the president who had been waiting for him. This was his second meeting with the president, the first since his nomination as “acting minister.” Two meetings, he thought, hiring and firing. If fired, he wondered what other punishment awaited him. He began to pay close attention to his surroundings aware of the bleak sensory deprivation of a prison cell.

The gray wall-to-wall carpeting was threadbare where it showed between rugs from various provinces. Mousavi followed the aide and walked over rugs from Hamadan, a central medallion surrounded by soft red flowers; from Kashan, ivory with star shaped medallions in soft rust; more colorful rugs from Meshed in purple-red, orange-rust and Persian blue.

Mousavi’s mind stopped noticing the artistry and variety as he neared the President’s outer office where he was invited to sit. The aide stood off near the president’s door. Mousavi tried not to gauge his own fate by the aide’s behavior, although it was difficult to avoid drawing negative conclusions. The aide likely did not know himself the purpose of the meeting.

After fifteen minutes, he was shown in. President Ahmadinejad was not a large man, rather spare with a graying beard and glasses that he took off when Mousavi came in revealing dark eyes that peered out from narrow slits and heavy eyelids. His modest attire, gray-tan trousers and windbreaker jacket, reminded Mousavi of the president’s modest beginnings from a poor family. His father had been a blacksmith, a trade he had begun before his intelligence gained him entrance to higher education.

“Hajj-Agha,” the president began, with a traditional greeting of respect. “What is going on? Why do I have to learn about CIA activities in my country from the American news, Satan’s own politicians?”

“We are screening the foreign presence very closely. We have an excellent source who has told us that the CIA officer is possibly of Asian background, Vietnamese.”

The president grinned. “Oh yes, the wife of the American Chargé?”

Mousavi grinned back through his straggly mustache, “Yes, she is devoted to helping Iran because of America’s past misdeeds. Our man also makes sure that her knowledge of American-Iranian relations is thorough.”

The inevitable tea-man walked in with two cups and sugar cubes on a tray.

The president sat forward, “Tell me, what is their game? Why are they force-feeding us information about their secret operations? Are they trying to humiliate my government in front of our population? In front of the world? They seem to be saying, ‘Look everybody, we’re in Iran and doing whatever we want and the Iranians are helpless.’”

Ahmadinejad sat back, running the fingers of one hand through his short beard, his piercing eyes trying TO read the answer to his questions on Mousavi’s face and demeanor.

“Are they trying to provoke us?” he asked. “Perhaps, since their embargo is not totally successful, they are trying to have us arrest all the foreign executives or force the foreign companies to close and go home, to further depress our economy. This what the CIA calls covert action? What is their real game?”

He put a sugar cube in his mouth and took a sip of tea.

Mousavi replied using the same Socratic Method, “Or are American politicians so egotistical, so concerned about their own political careers that they’re using their national secrets to further their own goals? Are they really so shallow? Thanks to Allah, the Merciful, their devilish influence is no longer suppressing our Islamic values.”

The president was still seated behind his desk, while Mousavi sat on a chair directly in front of it. The president