81: Chapter 78 Raja

1 Rajai arrived in Ahvaz.

He was a thirty-five-year-old man, lean and thin, with a faint scar on his face, said to have been left from a conflict in Qom two years ago.

His gaze was sharp; when he looked at people, it was as if he were trying to read what was going on in their minds.

Reza did not make him wait, and the very next day, he took him to inspect the border defense line.

The entire trip lasted three days. Reza acted as a guide personally, taking Rajai to see every key location: the Anti-tank mines burial zones, the camouflaged fortifications of the missile launch sites, the training grounds for the rapid response forces, the defensive fortifications around the Abadan oil fields, and—most importantly—the existence of the underground workshops.

"Is this the thing that makes the Iraqis afraid?" Rajai stopped in front of a missile launch site, looking at the mobile launcher disguised as an ordinary truck.

"It is not this launcher that makes the Iraqis afraid," Reza said. "What makes them afraid is that I know when they will come, where they will come from, and what they will use. These three things keep them awake at night more than any weapon."

Rajai looked at Reza and asked, "How do you know these things?"

"Because I understand the logic of this land," Reza said. "Saddam Hussein is not a patient man; he will strike when he believes he is at his strongest and his opponent is at their weakest. Right now, in his eyes, Iran has just experienced a political revolution and is currently in a standoff with the United States; this is what he considers the 'weakest moment.' But he has miscalculated one thing—"

"What is that?"

"Iran has a Khuzestan Province that has been preparing for five years."

Rajai did not speak, but Reza saw a change in his eyes—the previous sharpness of observation had turned into something deeper. He was no longer just "looking" at Reza; he had started to believe what Reza was saying.

This was exactly the effect Reza wanted.

In July 1980, Rajai returned to Tehran to report to Ayatollah Khomeini.

According to information relayed back through Karimi's channels, Rajai said a concluding remark to Ayatollah Khomeini: "The Highness's preparations in Khuzestan are more professional than any military mobilization I have ever seen. If the Iraqis dare to cross the border, they will encounter resistance along the Shatt al-Arab far more tenacious than they imagined."

Ayatollah Khomeini listened, said nothing, and simply nodded.

In the political context of Tehran, that nod meant he accepted it.

When Reza put down this message, he wrote two words in his notebook: "Entering the game."

There were less than three months until the war. And he was already prepared.

August 1, 1980, Ahvaz.

After entering August, the smell in the air changed.

It wasn't the temperature—August in Ahvaz has always been sauna weather of over sixty-five degrees, and this year was no exception—what had changed was something invisible. The whole city was like a taut string, everyone's nerves were in a critical state: oil workers were operating equipment in three shifts, there were three times more military vehicles on the roads than usual, and the officers' faces were more serious than ever.

At this point in time, Reza did something that no one had expected—he held a public press conference at the Governors Mansion, inviting all major newspapers in Tehran and correspondents from three foreign news agencies stationed in Iran.

The content of the press conference was only one thing: announcing the "wartime state" of Khuzestan Province to the whole world.

"Starting today, Khuzestan Province is entering a full wartime state," Reza stood on the podium, facing dozens of reporters, his voice steady. "All civilian facilities are converted for wartime use, all male citizens aged 18 to 45 are required to register for military service, and all medical resources will be subject to unified allocation by the provincial government."

He paused, then said something that stunned all the reporters present: "At the same time, I officially announce that the Saddam Hussein regime in Iraq is preparing to launch a full-scale invasion of Iran, which may occur within the next thirty to forty days."

This sentence was like a bomb thrown into the crowd of reporters.

"Your Highness, do you have evidence to support this timeline prediction?" an AFP reporter immediately raised their hand.

"I have sufficient evidence," Reza said. "But I am not here to discuss evidence with you. I am here to tell you one thing—Khuzestan Province will not collapse when the war arrives, as some people fear. We are prepared."

For this press conference, Reza's goal was not to persuade the reporters, but to tell the whole world two things through them: first, Iran is not defenseless; second, Khuzestan is Iran's strongest shield.

In the context of diplomacy, these two things were more valuable than any military deployment—because they changed others' expectations of Iran, and expectation itself is a form of deterrence.