The Enemy Within Read Online Free PDF

feared he would be the one held accountable by Taleh’s notoriously unforgiving regime.
    “I… I just learned of your arrival, sir.” Arjomand swallowed convulsively. “How may I assist you?”
    Taleh waved his hand at the man, as if to motion him away, then stopped. He should at least try to get an idea of the situation. “How long to rebuild?” he demanded.
    The engineer turned pale. “At least a year, General, maybe more. International sanctions will not prevent us from oh raining the materials we need, of course, but it will cost more and take much longer ” He paused, then continued with his head lowered. “But I have lost so many people. How can I replace them?”
    Drawing a breath, he started to list his losses in detail, but Taleh stopped him impatiently. “Save that for your own ministry. Tell me this. This plant produced electronic components vital to our armed forces. Missile guidance units, radars. Can they be made elsewhere?”
    “Not as many. Not a tenth as many, General.”
    Taleh nodded, then abruptly turned away with Kazemi in tow.
    As they walked, the captain noted the near-instant response of two tough-looking men in his field of view. They turned, still keeping a lookout ahead and to the sides, and trotted toward the American-built Huey helicopter. If the general had ever seen any irony in trusting his life to a machine made by the Great Satan, it had long since passed.
    Once clear of the rubble, Taleh strode purposefully toward the aircraft, its engines now turning over. Shouting to be heard over the whine, he asked, “How many more sites?”
    “Two, General, a chemical plant and an aircraft repair facility.”
    “Skip them. The story will be the same as the three we’ve already seen today and the ones last night as well. We’ll go back to Tehran. I have to prepare for the Defense Council meeting Bier this week. And I’ll want to meet with my staff after prayers this afternoon.”
    Kazemi nodded and once again checked around them. This time he saw all six bodyguards, their German-made assault rifles at the ready, fanned out around the helicopter, all alert for any signs of trouble. These men, too, had been with Taleh a long time. His rank and position entitled him to have an escort, but he eschewed the customary Pasdaran detail. They might be ideologically correct, but the Revolutionary Guards were lousy soldiers, and one thing the general could not stand was a lousy soldier. Instead, he used his own de tachmentof Iranian Special Forces soldiers. All the men wearing the green berets were hardened veterans, and Taleh had seen combat with each and every one.
    His care had paid off. The general had survived countless battles against the Iraqis and at least two attempts on his life one by political rivals and one by leftist guerrillas.
    The two officers climbed aboard, and the bodyguards, still moving by the numbers, ran to join them. Once the last pair of Special Forces soldiers scrambled inside the troop compartment, the pilot lifted off, using full torque to get the Hucy moving as quickly as possible.
    Buffeted by high winds, the helicopter raced north toward Tehran at two hundred kilometers an hour.
    Taleh sat motionless, watching the ruined factory shrink and fall away behind him. His thoughts mirrored the bleak, bomb-shattered landscape below.
    In the mid-1970s Amir Taleh had been a junior officer, freshly commissioned and serving under the Shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. Those had been difficult times for any Iranian of conscience, especially for one in the Anny.
    Driven by the impulse to regain Iran’s place as the Middle East’s leading power, the Shah had embarked on a series of massive projects to modernise, to Westernize, his nation. There had been progress. Schools, hospitals, and factories sprouted across an ancient, once-impoverished landscape. But the price had been high. Precious traditions, customs, and religious beliefs had been ground underfoot in the central government’s