The Persian Princess: Obsession Series, Book Three

Chapter One-2

Zardooz. That was his name. He didn’t answer the question, so I answered for him.

“It meant nothing, sir. We had a… brief encounter… several years ago in DC. I never saw him again. I’m sure Agent Zardooz completely forgot about it.”

In my mind, it had no bearing on the mission whether I slept with him or not. We’re all adults here. I lost count of the amount of men I’ve slept with, for business or pleasure or both.

“Salam, Agent Zardooz,” I said with my usual friendly smile.

“Salam,” Zardooz said with a tense smile.

“I didn’t know you were CIA,” I said.

“I’m FBI,” Zardooz said.

“Oh…” I said.

An uncomfortable pause passed.

“So, are we going to have any issues here, Agents?” my Handler asked.

“No, Sir. No issues,” I said. “I didn’t even remember his name. No offense, Agent Zardooz.”

“None taken,” Zardooz said.

I was a little embarrassed to have completely forgotten what his name. Richard? Roger? No, it was something more exotic. He kept his Persian first name, I think. But I did remember rolling around in the seedy hotel room and copulating like s*x addicts on a bender. We made love to each other like it was Armageddon and there was one last chance to have an orgasm before the world imploded around us.

“I am not happy about this, Agent Milani. I’m beginning to have some second thoughts here. I already told the Director you needed more time to decompress, but it was not my call to make. This mission is of a sensitive and extremely dangerous nature. We cannot afford any distractions. One mistake could cost both of you your lives as well as further endanger our National Security,” my Handler warned.

Agent Zardooz stood his ground.

“I wouldn’t think twice about it, Sir. As I recall, the s*x wasn’t all that great,” Zardooz said, as if he was entirely bored with the conversation.

I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let that pass. I have my reputation to consider. I took my favorite shade of lipstick out of my purse, cherry red, and painted on another coat.

“Yes. Unfortunately I don’t think they had pills for erectile dysfunction back then,” I said.

My new partner didn’t miss a beat.

“Anyway from what I’ve heard, you’d have a hard time assigning someone who hasn’t slept with Agent Milani,” Zardooz said.

That was a little below the belt, but I let it pass, knowing he was just trying not to get removed from the case. Despite his rudeness, I liked Agent Zardooz. I found him attractive in an aloof sort of way. Like a moth to the flame, I’ve always been drawn to inaccessible men. I seem to recall he told me he was married back then, though I didn’t see a ring on his finger.

“There’s no issues here Sir,” Zardooz stated.

“So why don’t I believe you, Agent Zardooz?” my Handler said, looking into his deep brown eyes.

“And by the way, there is one man in the CIA I haven’t slept with. Sadly, I’ve never been handled by my Handler,” I said, trying to break the tension.

Of course, my ever serious G-Man didn’t pick up on the humor.

“I guess you do have a moral compass after all, Milani,” Zardooz said, cuttingly.

“It’s Agent Milani…” I said with an edge to my voice.

My Handler rubbed his temple in irritation.

“Great. This should go well. You’re sniping at each other like a married couple already,” my Handler said.

“No. I don’t believe in marriage or monogamy. I’m destined to be a single girl,” I said. “But as I recall, Agent Zardooz is a happily married man.”

I unintentionally touched a nerve. Zardooz looked away.

“I’m divorced actually,” Zardooz said.

“Oh…” I said. “Sorry…”

Awkward… I looked at my Handler and he slowly shook his head. There was another long pause. The gentleman with the scar intervened.

“Perhaps I should give your agents some time to speak privately,” he said courteously, while making a move toward the door.

My boss reached out and touched Jefferson’s arm.

“Thank you Mr. Jefferson, but I need you here. Despite how uncomfortable this may be, we have no time to replace either of these Agents. So this is the team we’re stuck with, whether we like it or not.”

Zardooz and I exchanged a glance, like a couple of school kids who just barely escaped detention.

“Mr. Jefferson, as I mentioned earlier to you earlier before the agents arrived, it is highly irregular to use a private citizen in a covert CIA operation of this magnitude. As far as I know, it has never been attempted before in the history of American espionage. The last time we went outside the agency, a former FBI agent we hired as a contractor disappeared in Iran in 2007. His whereabouts are still unknown and he is presumed dead.”

My Handler took a short breath before continuing.

“I know I’m breaking every rule in the book here. I haven’t even spoken to the CIA Director about this detail of my plan because I know for a fact he’d never allow it. I’m 30 years in, just a few years away from retirement. I may lose my job over this decision. But the way I see it, we have no other option. There is no time to train anyone else. Even if I attempted to have you replaced in the sting, our suspect has already heard your voice on the phone. I judge you to be quite a capable man, Mr. Jefferson. You may be our most important asset here. As I told you, you can refuse to do this. I know you had training as a police officer, but you need to be aware that you are taking on a huge risk to your personal safety,” my Handler told the scarred man.

“As I said, despite the risk, I am more than happy to help you catch this terrorist in any way I can. I am at your disposal,” Mr. Jefferson said.

“You’re a brave man Mr. Jefferson and the Central Intelligence Agency appreciates your service to our country,” my Handler said.

My Handler looked at the three of us and nodded.

“OK. Let’s get started then. I’d like to show these agents photographs of the major players. May I use your computer, Mr. Jefferson?”

“Of course,” Jefferson said.

As we gathered around the desk to begin the briefing, I touched Mr. Jefferson’s arm.

“Mr. Jefferson. I met your submissive Grace on the way in. She’s absolutely charming,” I said.

“Thank you, Agent Milani. She is the love of my life,” Mr. Jefferson said with complete sincerity.

Then Jefferson turned to address my boss.

“I also appreciate your offer to help with Lucius Barrington,” Jefferson said.

“Of course, Mr. Jefferson. Not a problem,” my Handler said.

“Who is Lucius Barrington?” I asked.

“Barrington is a local practitioner of the occult who has been causing a nuisance in his club and bothering Mr. Jefferson’s girlfriend,” My Handler said. “First I’ll bring you up to speed on the counterterrorism operation which begins here tomorrow evening and then we’ll discuss tonight’s plan to rid Chicago of that pesky Satanist.”

“Satanist? No one mentioned a word to me about that. My Director led me to believe we had bigger fish to fry,” Zardooz said.

“Barrington is a low profile collar for us, certainly,” my Handler said. “Normally I wouldn’t waste the agency’s time on someone like him, but Mr. Jefferson has asked for assistance in this matter. We’ll turn him over to the local authorities as soon as we’re done with him. It should be a relatively easy and will only take a few hours. Perhaps you two lovebirds can gain some experience working together this evening. Now that your little… tryst… has been brought to my attention, I’m glad I set this other operation up. Consider the gig tonight with this devil-worshipper a warm-up. The real action starts tomorrow, Agents.”

“OK. So what’s the plan?” I asked.

My Handler opened a confidential file on the computer. We stared at the screen.

“This morning Mr. Jefferson bought to our attention that one of the world’s foremost terrorists, Khaled Al Khatani, is currently in Chicago and will be attending this club tomorrow evening. We’ve been tracking the movements of this man for a few years now. We have reason to believe Khatani might be plotting a major bombing in the next few months on American soil. The CIA and the FBI, working together, are going to uncover this plot and gather incriminating evidence against him. What do you think of doing some undercover work for the CIA , Agent Zardooz?”

“You can count me in Sir,” Zardooz said with conviction.

Despite his bravura, Agent Zardooz seemed like a sensitive person behind the gruff exterior. I would have to watch out for him over there. Perhaps it would be safer if I walked into the jaws of Hell alone.

“No offense, Agent Zardooz, but why do we need the FBI in on this? I usually work alone,” I said.

“A fair question. Of all the agents in the CIA and FBI, you are the only two who are fluent in both Arabic and Farsi. If we don’t gather the evidence we need to arrest our suspect here, the mission will take both of you to Saudi Arabia where we have a field office set up. If all goes according to plan, Agent Milani will infiltrate our suspect’s home in Riyadh… by any means necessary… and gather information to avert the possible terrorist attack against the United States. She will then convey this intel to you on the ground, Agent Zardooz.”

By any means necessary. I didn’t need to ask what that meant. It was fairly obvious the CIA would offer me as bait. I would seduce the suspect, become his lover and allow him to have repeated s****l relations with me. Once I was in his inner circle, perhaps I would overhear something. The play worked like a charm in Mexico and Europe for my last two cases. Men are fairly predictable creatures. Why not Saudi Arabia?

“Through our surveillance of the subject we’ve learned a very important meeting will take place in early February in Tehran where Agent Zardooz has extensive personal contacts. We need you at that meeting Agent Milani,” my Handler said.

Undercover in Tehran. I am in the big leagues now.

“Understood,” I said.

“Agent Zardooz is also a practicing Muslim and knows the spiritual terrain,” my Handler added.

“A Muslim? Really? That must make you popular over at the Bureau,” I said, teasing him.

Zardooz became deadly serious, once again not catching my humor. G-Men are such stiffs.

“Last time I checked, our Constitution grants me freedom of religion, Agent Milani,” Zardooz said.

“Yeah but couldn’t you pick a religion that’s a little less annoying, like everyone else?” I said.

“It is the faith of my Father and his Father before him,” Zardooz countered.

I realized it was inappropriate, but it was so much fun teasing the guy and so easy.

“I guess your Mother’s belief system didn’t enter into the equation,” I said.

“My family’s beliefs are none of your concern, Agent,” Zardooz said back, gruffly.

“Lighten up Big Guy. I’m just kidding,” I said.

My boss looked impatiently at us.

“If you two are quite finished may we continue the briefing?” my Handler said.

Zardooz and I gave each other sideways glances and nodded.

“Agent Zardooz has set up a safe house for our operation on the outskirts of Tehran. We’ve also rented an apartment with a clear view of our second suspect’s home. The apartment will be supplied with surveillance equipment for you, Agent Zardooz. Agent Milani will do the undercover work while you, Agent Zardooz, will be our eyes on the ground. Once you get the information we seek, Agent Zardooz will get you to the safe house and out of the country.”

After a pause my Handler gave me a concerned look.

“I have to warn you, this will be the most dangerous mission of your career, Agent Milani. Other than Agent Zardooz, you’ll be completely on your own over there. I have a bad feeling about this. We needed more time to properly plan this out and the operation has been thrown together in the last 12 hours. As your direct supervisor I advise you to reconsider this assignment, Agent Milani. I give you my word your decision will not adversely affect your career in any way,” my Handler said.

This was the once in a lifetime case I dreamed about. If I could pull this off, it could lead to a promotion within the agency, even to a Station Chief position. But more importantly, when I retired I would look back on this case as the crowning achievement of my intelligence career.

“Are you kidding? I’m not backing out now! I’m all in, boss. So, go on. What’s the play?” I asked.

My Handler nodded gravely and clicked on a file labeled, “Hellfire.” A photograph of an exceedingly well-dressed Saudi man appeared on the screen.