Vasilyev nodded. “We will certainly pass this information on to our superiors.”
Massoud now looked particularly grim. “All we ask is that if we are wrong about any of the names on this list and you find evidence they are still alive, you will let us know.”
Vasilyev nodded. “Of course. I think that brings us to the obvious question
— what does your community plan to do in response?”
Massoud shrugged. “What can we do? A few of us have guns. As you saw at Al-Awamiyah, they are of little use against tanks. The sort of rebellion you saw in Iraq against the Americans is impossible here. There it was led by the men from Saddam Hussein’s army, who had hidden many of their weapons and explosives after their surrender. We Shi’a have nobody with military experience, and no vast store of weapons. Nobody from outside the Kingdom is giving us aid. Our demonstrations are crushed, and the world ignores us.
Without outside help, we are doomed.”
Vasilyev cocked his head to one side. “Are you expecting the Russian government to intervene on your behalf?”
Massoud laughed bitterly. “After how it treated Muslims in Bosnia, Syria and Chechnya? Certainly not. If anything, we expect your government to continue selling military forces around the world the tanks they use to crush Muslim rebellions as long as they have the money to pay.”
Vasilyev pursed his lips. “Of course, I have no authority to speak for the Russian government. However, I must ask — if you expect no help, why see us?”
Massoud nodded. “A fair question. The answer is simple. We know the names on that USB drive I gave you may not change any minds at the Kremlin. But I have always believed in the power of truth. Who knows, maybe someday someone in your government will find a reason to care about what is happening here. At worst, we have nothing to lose.”
Vasilyev nodded and rose, followed by Grishkov. “I promise to pass what we have learned, including the information on this USB drive, to our superiors. After that, anything is possible.”
Massoud‘s answering smile had no warmth in it. “As you say. The driver outside will take you to your hotel, or back to the airport. Just let him know where you want to go. Safe journeys.”
As they walked to the door, Vasilyev’s cell phone buzzed. He looked at the screen and frowned. Grishkov looked at him questioningly, but Vasilyev just shook his head and opened the car door. The same driver was at the wheel.
“To the airport, please,” said Vasilyev.
Without a word, the driver put the car in gear and less than an hour later they were back outside the Dammam airport terminal. As soon as they left the car clutching their bags, the driver sped off.
The glass doors slid open in front of them, and Grishkov turned towards Vasilyev as they walked.
“So, here we are back at the world’s largest airport. I hope the next destination will be less a waste of our time.”
Without breaking stride Vasilyev laughed. “Waste? Is that really what we did?”
Grishkov shrugged. “Well, was there some part of our exchange I missed where we learned the targets of the planned attacks? Or when they will happen?”
Vasilyev smiled. “No. But, let me ask you a question. How would you describe our host, in two words?”
Grishkov frowned, and finally shrugged. “Angry. Desperate.”
Vasilyev’s smile grew broader. “Excellent. Now, if someone asked for his help and the help of his people in attacking the Saudis, what do you think his answer would be?”
Grishkov grunted. “OK, I see your point. We did learn something worth knowing. So, care to tell me where we’re going?”
Vasilyev nodded. “Tehran, via Dubai. We should be there by evening.”
Grishkov grunted. “Lovely. I know someone has thought about the need for an Iranian visa, which I didn’t notice in my passport.”
Vasilyev smiled. “Of course. We are good at such details. A man will meet us at Dubai airport with passports containing the correct visas for a short business stay.”
Grishkov sighed. “And may I know why we are going to Tehran?”
Vasilyev shrugged. “No idea. Such details are never included in a cell phone message even when the device is encrypted, as is ours. We will be given a summary readout by the agent who passes us our new papers in Dubai, and a full briefing once we arrive in Tehran.”
To that Grishkov had no answer, since his time in both the Russian Army and the Vladivostok police had drummed the need for operational security into him at often tiresome length. Well, he mused, having paid attention to security requirements helped explain why he was alive to be walking here beside Vasilyev, in spite of several serious attempts on his life when he was in Russia.
It didn’t make him any less curious, though.
Grishkov and Vasilyev were waiting for the next Iran Air flight to Tehran, after an uneventful flight from Dhahran and a smooth handover of new documents from one of their agents in Dubai. Grishkov thought, not for the first time, that it was good to be part of a truly capable organization. Russia had many problems. An incompetent intelligence agency was not one of them.
Now, though, he saw the twinkle he dreaded in Vasilyev’s eye. “OK, out with it. What’s so special about this airport?”
Vasilyev smiled. “Why, it’s the world’s biggest, of course!”
Grishkov groaned. “Not again! OK, Dhahran was the biggest by land area.
So, this one has the most passengers?”
Vasilyev shook his head. “Close, but not quite. It has the most international passengers. Construction is underway to add further capacity, so it’s likely to keep that title for some time.”
Grishkov frowned. “But, since we are literally passing through, this time it really is trivia with little importance for our mission.”
Vasilyev grinned. “Well, alright. You have me this time.”
Grishkov nodded. “At last! Let me turn instead to a subject where I hope you can shed some light. The brief report we just read says the defector we are on our way to assist is an Iranian woman. I know that women throughout this region are repressed, but not the details. Perhaps you could contrast the situation of Saudi women with Iranian women, since you have lived in both countries.”
Vasilyev smiled. “An excellent approach. Let me begin with the positive.
In both countries some women have always been able to obtain both degrees and employment, primarily in areas such as education, medicine, and administration. Women have obtained employment in other sectors, but only in small numbers. One example I saw personally during a tour of a Saudi jewelry factory was the design and production of high-end gold jewelry. The owners admitted they had been unenthusiastic about employing women when a small quota was forced on them by the government, but quickly changed their minds."
Grishkov frowned. "Why? Did the women impress them immediately with the quality of their work?"
Vasilyev shook his head, and explained, "Their work quality was fine, but that's not the real value they brought to the factory. Once the women told their friends that jewelry they made themselves was available at a particular shop and showed them pictures of what they'd made, it immediately disappeared from the store shelves. In part, this was friends showing solidarity. In many cases, though, the owners believed it was that women were better at designing jewelry because they knew what women like. That's because even the jewelry these women designed that was exported to surrounding countries like the United Arab Emirates and Oman sold better than the rest of their products."