174: Chapter 171 The Besieged City

March 14, 1982, 5:00 AM.

Reza boarded an armored vehicle.

He did not take a plane.

Karimi advised him to take a plane, as it would be faster and safer.

But Reza refused.

"If Saddam Hussein sends people to assassinate me in Tehran," he said, "they will monitor the airport. I will go by land."

The armored vehicle departed. It was nearly nine hundred kilometers from Ahvaz to Tehran.

Reza did not sleep in the vehicle. He was looking at a map.

The map showed Tehran.

Tehran was a massive city with a population of ten million. If fifty Scud missiles landed in different areas of the city, the death toll could reach tens of thousands.

Reza was drawing circles on the map.

Iraq's Scud missiles had low accuracy. They would not target specific buildings; they would target large areas—the city center, government districts, industrial zones.

If that was the case, Iran could make special preparations in these areas.

Reza picked up the satellite phone.

"Karimi."

"Yes, Excellency Reza."

"I have an idea," Reza said, "we need to evacuate the people of Tehran."

"Evacuate?"

"Yes," Reza said, "we will tell all the people of Tehran that there will be a large-scale missile attack tonight. Let them leave the city, or go to basements and air-raid shelters."

"This will cause panic," Karimi said.

"I know," Reza said, "but panic is better than death. If we don't warn them, tens of thousands could die tonight."

"If we warn them, the panic could cause stampedes."

"We will organize the evacuation," Reza said, "using radio and television. Let the government organize an orderly departure."

Karimi was silent for a moment.

"This is a major decision," he said, "it requires the approval of the Supreme Leader."

"I will speak with him immediately," Reza said.

The call ended.

Reza dialed another number.

"Office of the Supreme Leader."

"This is Reza. I need to speak with the Supreme Leader immediately."

"Please wait a moment."

Music played over the phone. Then came the voice of the Supreme Leader.

"Reza."

"Supreme Leader," Reza said, "tonight, Iraq will attack Tehran with fifty Scud missiles. We must evacuate the people."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds.

"Fifty?" the Supreme Leader said.

"Yes."

"How many can we intercept?"

"We only have a dozen or so anti-aircraft missiles," Reza said, "we might intercept half. But there will still be over twenty missiles hitting Tehran."

"Over twenty missiles," the Supreme Leader said, "tens of thousands will die."

"Yes. That is why we must evacuate the people."

The Supreme Leader was silent for a long time.

"I agree," he finally said, "begin the evacuation immediately."

"Thank you."

The call ended.

6:00 AM.

Tehran's television and radio stations began broadcasting emergency announcements.

"Attention, people of Tehran. Tonight, Iraq will launch a large-scale missile attack on Tehran. Everyone, please evacuate the city center immediately and head to the suburbs or air-raid shelters."

The announcement repeated every five minutes.

Tehran fell into chaos.

People were running in the streets. Cars were stuck in traffic. Shops were closing.

Schools were closed in an emergency.

Hospitals began transferring patients.

The entire city was plunged into an apocalyptic atmosphere.

But this chaos was orderly.

The government had already begun organizing the evacuation. Buses were requisitioned to take people to the suburbs. Subway stations were converted into temporary air-raid shelters. The Revolutionary Guard was maintaining order.

By 2:00 PM, Tehran's city center had basically been evacuated.

What remained were mainly essential personnel—government workers, police, doctors, and soldiers maintaining order.

4:00 PM.

Reza's armored vehicle arrived in Tehran.

He went directly to an underground command center.

Fatima was already waiting for him there.

"How many anti-aircraft missiles have we deployed?" Reza asked.

"Twelve Persia-4s," Fatima said, "these are all the long-range anti-aircraft missiles we can mobilize."

"What about short-range anti-aircraft guns?"

"Two hundred," Fatima said, "distributed across various areas of Tehran."

"What is the prediction for missile interception?"

"We can intercept about twenty of Iraq's Scud missiles," Fatima said, "the remaining thirty will hit Tehran."

"Thirty," Reza said.

If one missile caused an average of one hundred casualties, thirty would mean three thousand people.

If the evacuation was done well, it could be reduced to a few hundred.

But there would still be casualties.

"We did what we could," Reza said.

"Yes."

"When will Iraq launch them?"

"Our intelligence indicates," Fatima said, "tonight at nine."

Reza glanced at the time.

4:20 PM.

Less than five hours left.

"We must be ready," he said.

7:00 PM.

Reza sat in the underground command center.

In front of him was a radar screen.

The screen was a sea of green—Iran's air defense forces.

Iraq's missiles had not yet launched.

Reza picked up a radio.

"All anti-aircraft positions," he said, "report status."

One by one, the positions reported back.

All prepared.

"Very good," Reza said, "wait for signs of launch."

Time passed slowly.

8:00 PM.

8:30 PM.

9:00 PM.

But Iraq's missiles had not yet launched.

Reza frowned.

"Why haven't they launched yet?" he asked.

"I don't know," Fatima said.

"Karimi," Reza picked up the phone, "is there a problem with our intelligence?"

"I am re-verifying," Karimi said.

The call ended.

Reza waited.

9:30 PM.

10:00 PM.

Still no movement.

"Perhaps the intelligence was wrong," Fatima said.

"Perhaps," Reza said.

But he had an ominous feeling.

He knew Saddam Hussein.

Saddam Hussein would not delay for no reason.

If Saddam Hussein delayed, it must be because something had changed.

10:15 PM.

The phone rang.

It was Karimi.

"Excellency Reza," he said, "I have new intelligence."

"Speak."

"Saddam Hussein has changed his plan," Karimi said, "he is no longer launching fifty missiles."

"Why?"

"Because we evacuated Tehran," Karimi said, "our announcements on television and radio were overheard by Iraqi spies. Saddam Hussein knows about our evacuation operation."

Reza understood.

If Tehran was evacuated, Iraq's missiles would not be able to hit many people.

The value of these fifty missiles had been greatly diminished.

"Then what is he doing?" Reza asked.

"He is waiting," Karimi said, "he is waiting a few days to let the people of Tehran lower their guard. Then he will launch when we are unprepared."

"Perhaps," Reza said.

"Or," Karimi said, "he has other plans."

"What plans?"

"Several of our informants," Karimi said, "reported that Iraqi agents have entered Tehran. We have captured one."

"What did he say?"

"He admitted," Karimi said, "that Saddam Hussein sent an agent team to Tehran. Their mission is to assassinate you."

Reza was silent.

He knew Saddam Hussein would send people to assassinate him.

But he had not expected it so soon.

"How many people in the team?" he asked.

"Five people," Karimi said, "we captured one. There are four left in Tehran."

"Do we know where they are?"

"We do not," Karimi said, "but the one we captured said they plan to strike when you inspect the missile attack sites."

Reza thought for a moment.

According to the plan, he was to go inspect the missile attack sites tomorrow morning and visit the victims. This was standard behavior for a leader.

If the Iraqi agents already knew his itinerary, they were just waiting for him to appear.

"What do we do?" Karimi asked.

Reza thought for a while.

"We will change our itinerary," he finally said, "but not publicly. We will let the agents think I will appear as planned. Then we will set an ambush."

"An ambush?"

"Yes," Reza said, "we will have a body double perform the inspection. Then, when the double appears, the agents will reveal themselves. We will capture them."

"That is dangerous," he said, "if the agents see through the double, they might escape."

"Then make the double look very much like me," Reza said, "wear my clothes, imitate my movements."

"Do we have someone like that?"

"We do," Reza said, "I have a fellow townsman who looks very much like me. He works in the Revolutionary Guard."

"Is he willing to take this risk?"

"I will ask him," Reza said, "but I believe he will be willing."