Callsign: Bishop - Book 1 (An Erik Somers - Chess Team Novella) Read Online Free PDF

disappointed.
    Out of habit, Bishop checked the back seat of the taxi to make sure it was empty, then he swung open the door and climbed inside, watching as the two men following him climbed into another taxi about fifty yards away. His driver—a dark-skinned man with short, curly black hair and a black baseball cap—sat in the front seat, separated from the passenger compartment by a solid piece of Plexiglas, most likely bullet proof. Such things were common in Tehran, he recalled. Hell, they were common in New York and Los Angeles, too. Big cities tended to attract crime, no matter where in the world they were located.
    “The Evin Hotel,” Bishop said in Persian, referring to a newly renovated hotel about half an hour from the airport. Once there he would change into different clothes and hire transportation out to the Kavir. He thought about how the two men had been waiting for him and realized he couldn’t come back to Imam Khomeini for a while. He’d have to look for charter planes leaving one of Tehran’s other airports.
    The driver nodded and put the car into gear. A minute later, they were speeding and bobbing through airport traffic as the driver weaved and honked his way out of the Imam Khomeini complex. Bishop lost sight of the men following him, but he reasoned that they probably lost sight of him, as well. Good.
    Of course, if they did know who he was and why he was here, then it wouldn’t matter. Somewhere up ahead, their friends would be waiting for him. He would just have to be ready.
    Outside the airport grounds, the traffic didn’t improve. The driver switched lanes at random and cut back and forth between other cars trying to make headway, but it was still slow going. Tehran was home to over 8 million people, and such a large number made travel through the city itself inherently slow going, especially at certain times of the day.
    After about an hour, Bishop spotted the street leading to the Evin Hotel. He’d been there before a few years earlier, and he’d been to Tehran enough times to have a good working knowledge of the city’s layout, so he was a bit surprised when the driver passed right by the street.
    “You should have turned left at that last light,” he offered, again speaking Persian.
    “I don’t think so,” the driver said in English. “We lost your tail back at the airport, but they’ll look for you at a place like the Evin. It’s too obvious. I’m taking you somewhere else.”
    For a moment, Bishop was too stunned to speak, then everything clicked into place. In addition to Keasling and Deep Blue, there was one other person who knew Bishop would be coming to Iran. But he would have expected that person to be in Shiraz.
    “Nice to meet you, Joker,” Bishop said.
    “Call me CJ,” the driver replied, smiling.
    “How did you know I would be coming to Tehran?”
    CJ chuckled, and Bishop took the hint. CJ knew, and that’s all there was to it. He would never reveal the source of his intel, any more than Bishop would. He smiled.
    “All right, then. Where are we going?” Bishop asked.
    “There is a plane waiting to fly us both out to a small village on the outskirts of the Kavir. You have the coordinates of the Manifold facility, right?”
    Bishop nodded.
    “Good,” CJ continued. “The village is called Hassi. There’s not much left of it, but I know a guy there who can arrange transportation for us into the desert.”
    “Not much left of it? Why? What happened?”
    “The men who found the Manifold site also stormed through the village. They didn’t leave much behind.”
    “But there’s a guy with a car?”
    “A ride,” CJ corrected. “I never said anything about a car. How are your riding skills, anyway?”
    Bishop shrugged. “I can get by.”
    CJ smiled. “I bet.”
    “Those guys were waiting for me, weren’t they?” Bishop asked. “They know who I am and why I’m here.”
    CJ nodded. “And they have friends. Lots of them. And all of them want to talk