The Enemy Within

Thorn nodded. That squared with what little U.S. analysts knew about the current state of Iranian politics. “Sounds like classic economy of force.” He smiled. “I suspect old ‘Gut ‘Em’ Duszinski would be pleased.” Taleh’s dark eyes lit up in amused recollection. He had gone through the Ranger School a few years ahead of Thorn, and Sergeant Major Duszinski was a legend in the U.S.trained special warfare fraternity. After surviving six tours in Vietnam, the hard-nosed veteran had come home to teach ambush tactics at the Ranger School. Generations of soldiers since then had grown to cordially hate the man’s guts. But none of them had forgotten the common sense lessons he’d pounded into their aching brains.

The Iranian leaned forward and tapped Thorn on the shoulder. “You understand me. This is why I asked your superiors to send you, a friend and a soldier a fighting soldier as their representative. I will be honest. I do not trust your country’s politicians or your diplomats.”

Taleh smiled briefly. “For that matter, I do not trust my own politicians or diplomats. None of them, American or Iranian, will tell the plain truth if they believe a lie will suffice.”

Thorn nodded. Taleh’s wry sense of humor was still intact.

He glanced again at the shattered terrorist training compound. In less than an hour, the soldiers commanded by his boyhood friend had crushed a powerful nest of terrorists who had haunted the United States for years. Both the magnitude of Taleh’s operation and the size of the gamble the other man was taking overwhelmed and chilled him. In one fell, bloody swoop, Taleh had severed the Iranian military’sties to Islam’s crazed extremists. It was astounding almost unbelievable. But seeing was believing. Dead terrorists did not lie, and those Taleh’s troops had gunned down were men who had tormented the West for decades.

Suddenly impatient at the prospect of further diplomatic sparring, Thorn turned back to the Iranian. By openly attacking the HizbAllah, his friend had performed a valuable service for America. Taleh had also put his own life and career on the line. That kind of commitment deserved plain talk. “I guess the question is: Where do we go from here? You know my country will be grateful for your actions today. But what do you want from us in return?”

“What do I want? I want many things, Peter.” Taleh shrugged again. “But I do not expect too much too soon. Iran and the United States have a long history together an unfortunate history in recent years. True?”

Thorn nodded silently, thinking of the long, sorry string of hostage crises, bombings, murders, and retaliatory strikes.

“It will take time and much hard work to dissolve the enmities built up over so many years,” Taleh said quietly. “But in the short term, I would like to offer my cooperation in the fight against these terrorists. My forces will deny them further safe haven inside Iran. And I can offer documents, pin lures, and other records that your intelligence services will find invaluable. In return I want assurances against renewed missile strikes or other hostile actions aimed at my forces.”

“And later?”

“Later I hope that our two nations can work more closely on a number of fronts.” The Iranian studied him closely. “We both know that Iran is a poor country. This mindless, uncoordinated campaign of terror has cost us dearly. We have been isolated politically and economically for far too long. I am hoping that your leaders will help me change that.”

“I see.” Thorn did see. He was enough of a strategist to know what Taleh’s offer of closer ties with Iran might mean for the United States and the whole Middle East. Ever since the Shah’s fall from power, the U.S. and its Western allies had been searching for a way to stabilise the vital region. Their first choice, Saddam Hussein’s Iraq, had proved itself an untrustworthy ally and an incompetent foe. The current alternative, Saudi Arabis, was a weak reesparsely populated, corrupt, and cordially loathed by most of its neighbors. If there truly was a chance that Iran could be lured back into the community of civilised nations, he knew the White House and the State Department would jump at it.

Shots cracked nearby. Thorn’s head lifted in surprise.

Squads of Iranian Special Forces troops were walking slowly through the compound, methodically firing into each of the bodies littering Manzarieh Park’s streets and bloodsoaked lawns.

Taleh saw the question on his face and nodded somberly. “Yes. My troops are killing any terrorists who may only have been wounded.”