19
Tabriz, Iran. May 21, 10.02am.
Morgan followed Jake through the main bazaar of Tabriz, a full length burqa hiding her body as well as concealing weapons beneath. Jake walked briskly in front, without looking back at her, as a man should in this part of the world.
She keenly observed the bazaar around them through her veil. It was high domed with red brick ceilings studded with star-shaped skylights that let in shafts of light. The barreled arches were vaulted like a cathedral but it was clearly a place of commerce and business. There were shops selling carpets and sweet tea, men in suits and fez hats playing chess, fabric shops and sacks overflowing with grain and flour, spices, dates and walnuts, apricots and almonds.
Morgan felt that the high ceilings gave it a light feeling, akin
