100: Chapter 97 Khomeini's Invitation

On November 10th, Reza received an unexpected invitation.

The invitation came from the French Embassy in Tehran: the French Foreign Minister, Jean-François Ponce, would be visiting Tehran on November 15th and hoped to meet with Reza.

"The French want to see you," Karimi said. "Not Ayatollah Khomeini, but you."

"This is interesting," Reza said. "The French are looking for a new dialogue partner in Iran."

"They will meet Ayatollah Khomeini first, and then meet you privately."

Reza thought for a moment and said, "Agree to it. But demand that the contents of the meeting be kept confidential and not appear in any official records."

"Are you worried Tehran will find out?"

"I'm not worried about them knowing; I'm worried about them knowing too early," Reza said. "The French coming to me shows they consider me an important player in Iran's future. If this signal reaches Tehran too early, it will make Ayatollah Khomeini feel I am colluding with foreigners. So—keep it low-profile."

November 12th, Pump Station.

When Reza returned to the Pump Station, the defenses there had been reinforced to an almost pathological degree.

In the ten or so days Reza had been away, Sadiq had added two more layers of minefields to the perimeter, totaling over eight thousand Anti-tank mines. The anti-tank trenches had increased from one to three, each five meters wide and three meters deep. The number of firing points had increased from twenty to forty, with each equipped with two RPGs and a heavy machine gun.

"Sadiq is a madman," Hassan said, "but he's a good madman."

Reza stood on the roof, looking at the Iraqi positions through binoculars.

The Iraqi encirclement was no longer an encirclement—their defensive lines had retreated to more than twenty kilometers away from the Pump Station, leaving only observation posts at a few key intersections.

"They are contracting," Reza said. "Not preparing to retreat, but regrouping."

"How can you tell?"

"Look at the distribution of their camps—it's no longer a line, but a plane. The distance between each camp is five to eight kilometers, with roads connecting them. This isn't a deployment for a siege; it's a deployment for an offensive. They are making logistical preparations for the next wave of attacks."

"When will they strike?"

"It's hard to say," Reza said, "but as soon as the Soviet weapons arrive, they will strike."

He put down the binoculars and walked back to the control room.

"Karimi, where is that shipment of Soviet weapons now?"

"The first batch has already reached Basra. Two hundred T-72 Tanks; one hundred and twenty have been unloaded, and the rest are waiting on the ships. Twenty Mi-24s have arrived, all at Basra Airport. Two thousand AT-3s have arrived and are stored in the Southern Military District warehouses."

"Any progress on the warehouse?"

"Yes," Karimi said. "We found someone. He is a warehouse manager at that base, an Iraqi Army Lieutenant named Rashid. His younger brother is one of ours, in the Arab community in Khuzestan."

"What does he want?"

"Money. Fifty thousand dollars, plus help for him and his family to immigrate to Europe after the war."

"Agree to it," Reza said. "Tell him the money and passports will be given to him together once the job is done. But first, he needs to do one thing—install Fatima's seals and filters onto the weapons."

"Can he do it?"

"A warehouse manager has the keys, the authority, and enough time," Reza said. "The question is whether he has the guts."

"Fifty thousand dollars is enough to give him guts," Karimi said. "In Iraq, fifty thousand dollars is a lifetime's income."

On November 14th, Reza received notice from Tehran.

Foreign Minister Ponce's visit was confirmed for a meeting at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs Building in Tehran at 3:00 PM on November 16th. Ayatollah Khomeini agreed to let Reza attend the meeting, but not as the lead figure—the lead would be Bani-Sadr.

"Letting me be a foil for Bani-Sadr?" Reza said.

"Nominally, yes," Rafsanjani said over the phone. "But Ponce specifically asked to see you. The Ayatollah knows this and agreed, but he requires that you do not outshine the host at the meeting."

"I understand," Reza said. "I will keep a low profile."

"One more thing," Rafsanjani said. "The Soviets are looking for you too."

Reza was stunned for a moment. "The Soviets?"

"Yes. The Soviet Ambassador in Tehran approached Rafsanjani a couple of days ago, saying they wanted to arrange a meeting with you. They didn't say what they wanted to talk about, but the implication is clear—they want to hedge their bets on both sides."

Reza was silent for a few seconds.

The Soviets coming to him meant the Kremlin was also reassessing his position in the Iranian political landscape. If even the Soviets felt he was someone worth courting, then his international weight had truly changed.

"Tell them," Reza said, "I can meet them anytime. But the contents of the meeting must be kept secret."

"The Soviets don't need you to remind them about secrecy," Rafsanjani said. "They understand secrecy better than anyone."

November 15th, Ahvaz.

Fatima's first batch of two hundred Persia-2 Missiles officially rolled off the assembly line.

Reza personally went to the factory to attend the delivery ceremony for the first batch. It was called a ceremony, but in reality, Fatima just had twenty crates of missiles moved out of the production workshop into the hallway for Reza to take a look.

"Two hundred units," Fatima said flatly. "All passed testing."

"How was the testing?"

"Live-fire target practice. We used a scrapped helicopter as a target and fired five rounds, hitting three. A sixty percent hit rate, which is higher than expected."

Reza nodded, then asked a question Fatima hadn't expected: "Can your people produce more?"

"Yes. If the parts supply keeps up, we can produce five hundred next month."

"How do we solve the parts supply issue?"

Fatima hesitated and said, "We found a channel. A state-owned factory in Czechoslovakia is willing to sell us parts, provided it's a cash transaction and doesn't go through official channels."

"And the price?"

"Three times more expensive than the normal price."

"Pay it," Reza said. "Money is not the issue. Time is. Every extra missile means one more downed Iraqi helicopter. Every downed helicopter makes the Iraqi offensive one bit weaker."

He took out his dark blue notebook and wrote a line on the latest page:

"General mobilization order signed. The French are visiting. The Soviets are also looking. The weapons factory is in mass production. Three fronts moving forward simultaneously; let's see how Saddam Hussein makes his move."

He closed the notebook and looked at the night sky outside the window.

Tomorrow, he would go to Tehran to meet the French.

The day after, he might meet the Soviets.

The world was changing.