Mick pulled a flashlight out of an old gear bag and hit the switch a few times. Two headlights repeated the gesture from farther inland. It was hard to tell what kind of vehicle from their vantage point. The driver had done a good job making it invisible from the water.
Everyone grabbed the cargo one last time and hauled it across the rocky sand in the direction the lights had flashed. Once they were closer, they could see it was a moving van, similar to the delivery truck they’d ridden in earlier.
The driver had a thick, black beard and matching curly hair. He stepped down out of the cab and grabbed the box Adriana was carrying. He offered her a smile and hustled around to the rear of the truck and slid it inside. He did the same with the boxes Tommy and Sean were carrying and then ran down to the boat to get the remaining cargo.
“Only one more down there, Farjad.”
The driver nodded without turning around. They’d clearly been doing this together for a while.
Mick turned to the three. “It’s a few hours to Tehran from here.” He jumped up into the cargo hold and pulled up a false floor panel. “If you hear Farjad bang on the cab twice, you’ll need to hide in these. Security checkpoints are pretty random, but it’s possible you could go through one. They typically aren’t very thorough since the borders are so secure, but you never know. Usually, a quick glance inside is all they want.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “And if they want more?”
“Then you never met me. I hear the key to surviving in an Iranian prison is developing a strong stomach.” He winked, showing the first sign of a sense of humor since they’d met the man.
Farjad returned a moment later with the last box and loaded it onto the truck. Mick took an envelope out of a shirt pocket and handed to him. “Good work as always, my friend. You know where to take them?”
Farjad nodded. “I know the place.” He turned to his passengers. “Don’t let him worry you. I will get you there safely. Did he say something about the checkpoints?”
Tommy nodded.
“I assure you. I can get around them easily enough.”
Tommy hoped he was right. They all did.
“Try to get some rest,” Farjad said. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“He does,” Mick added. “He’s the best at this sort of thing. That’s why I hired him.”
Sean extended his hand. “We appreciate all the help, Mick.”
The man took shook his hand firmly and grinned. “And we appreciate your business.”
The ride into Tehran was surprisingly uneventful and one of the most uncomfortable the Americans and Spaniard had ever taken. Not only was it bumpy and warm, but every time the truck stopped, the occupants in the back had to listen carefully in case Farjad gave the signal to hide. The knocks never came, though, and soon the truck was moving again.
None of the three travelers were able to rest during the journey. They were all on full alert the entire time. The minutes ticked by like weeks, and the tension in the back of the van was thick as cold molasses. And every little noise made them twitch their heads to the rear gate, waiting for it to open.
When they finally arrived in Tehran, they heard Farjad turn off the engine and close the cab door. He opened the back, and they were greeted with the city’s dry early morning air and a smile from the driver.
“See? I told you it would be no trouble. This is your stop for the night. It’s one of Mick’s safe houses.” He motioned to a nondescript one-story concrete building twenty yards away across an empty parking lot. There were two metal doors on the front and from what Sean could tell, a deadbolt above the latch. The façade of the building was about twenty feet across and looked like it was abandoned.
“You have a key for us?” Tommy asked.
“Right here,” Farjad said and placed it in Tommy’s hand. “There should be everything you need inside: a few beds, toilets, two showers. No food, but it’s a little late in the night to be eating. You’re meeting someone tomorrow, right?”
Sean nodded. “In the morning, yes.”
“Very good. I’ll have a car here for you before sunlight. It’s yours as long as you need it.”
Sean was starting to wonder how much Tommy had paid this guy. “I appreciate it, Farjad. Thanks for all your help.”
“My pleasure.” He grabbed the nylon strap attached to the sliding door and brought it down quietly. He locked the latch and ran around to the front of the truck, hopped in, and sped away.
The three took in their surroundings for a moment. Tall apartment buildings and twenty-story developments clogged the horizon. They were on the outskirts of the city. The bright lights of the Iranian capital illuminated the black sky above. The unnatural whitish hue blurred out all but the brightest stars.
“I don’t know about you two,” Tommy interrupted the silent moment, “but I need to get a few hours’ sleep.”
30
The rest of the night dragged by, each second adding more anxiety than the last. The three friends tried to get a little sleep, but calming their minds proved extremely difficult. Only after extreme fatigue took over were they able to doze off for a few hours.
Sean woke first, slipped on his shoes, and floated over to the door. He’d taken a shower the night before so he wouldn’t be in a rush when it was time to go. He also thought it might help him relax. That part he was wrong about.
He took a quick glance through the peephole to make sure no one was standing outside and then opened the door. The muggy morning air washed over him, and he blinked a few times to adjust to the early sunlight.
A common misconception in the United States is that Iran is nothing but desert. The far edges of Tehran would be considered high desert, with the heart of the city sitting at around three thousand, nine hundred feet in elevation. The metropolitan area is situated at the base of the Alborz Mountain Range and experiences a drastic change in temperature and weather from summer to winter. During the latter, huge ski resorts provide steady revenue and entertainment for the region’s population. Sean had seen pictures taken during winter and wanted to make a visit to test out the local powder. Snowboarding was something of a guilty pleasure he’d not had the opportunity to partake in for more than two years. If they got out of this relic hunt alive, he might have to make it a point to come back to Tehran. Although preferably through legal channels, if possible.
Sean heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. His first instinct was to shut and lock the door, but he reminded himself that someone was supposed to be coming with a car. He wondered who the drop-off person might be, when a white, four-door Toyota pulled into the parking lot and squeaked to a stop. Sean looked through the windshield, and his curious expression changed to a broad smile as a familiar face got out of the driver’s seat.
“You’re late,” he said.
The driver shut the door and crossed his arms, pretending to be offended. “Hey, do you want a ride or not?”
The man’s bushy beard had got thicker since Sean had last seen him. His skin had darkened to a deep bronze, a result of spending weeks on end in the sunshine. His hair was scraggly and reached the tops of his ears, longer than it had ever been in the time the two knew each other. Whether it was intentional or not, the new look made for good cover in this foreign land.
“I had no idea you were the one picking us up, Mac.”
The other man beamed and stepped forward, wrapping both arms around Sean and clapping him on the back. “It’s good to see you again, my friend. Been too long.”
Mac let go and noticed Tommy stumble to the safe house doorway, looking around like a lost chicken. He’d never been able to wake quickly. “Tommy, look who’s here,” he said, still keeping his voice as low as possible.