The Mingrelian by Ed Baldwin Read Free Book Online Page A

seriously.”
    “How close are they?”
    “Close. They have enough fissile material to make several bombs, but they don’t have a nuclear trigger yet. That’s the hard part of making a nuclear weapon. Pakistan and North Korea have nuclear triggers, and they could sell a few or teach the Iranians how to build some. That’s part of the embargo, to try to seal Iran off so they can’t import any nuclear triggers.”
    “So, the Mingrelian might not be Mingrelian at all, just an Iranian using that name.”
    “True, but Iranians who are allowed to travel freely outside Iran watch each other pretty closely,” Ferguson said. “It’s like the old Soviet Union, you couldn’t get permission to travel unless the regime trusted you, and there had to be pretty good reason for you to go someplace. They didn’t do casual travel, and the Iranians don’t either. Its diplomats, commerce and spies. That’s about it for Iranian travelers.”
    “I don’t see how I’m ever going to find this guy.”
    “Oh, you don’t need to. He’ll find you.”
     

Chapter 14: A Dangerous Game
    S
    weat ran from Lado Chikovani’s armpits and soaked into his shirt, fortunately hidden by his conservative black suit jacket. That was the only external sign that his cool demeanor was a front. He was sitting in Eskander Khorasani’s office at the Petroleum Bank of Iran, just down the street from his own bank, Kartvelian National Bank in Old Town in Tbilisi.
    “And so, there have been breaches of security associated with the transportation and marketing of our foreign trade.” The speaker was a senior official with the Ministry of Intelligence and National Security of Iran, the universally feared VEVAK. Like the Gestapo of Nazi Germany and the KGB of the Soviet Union, VEVAK is the enforcer of a totalitarian regime. Deeply set, ratlike eyes peered over a long thin nose and were framed by the traditional medium trimmed beard mandated for Islamic men in Iran. He was in town to check up on the growing number of Iranian expatriates in Tbilisi, and intimidation appeared to be his favorite tool.
    “We have security issues also,” Lado said in fluent Farsi.
    It had been 20 years since his little bank, insignificant among the hundreds of other little banks trying to form after the breakup of the Soviet Union, had been given a hand by Iranian businessmen.
    “Our relationship with the current regime in Iran is being scrutinized as never before,” Lado said. Aggressive talk, but he needed to take some pressure off Eskander. Dangerous to look scared in front of this rat-faced predator.
    “Current regime?” The dark eyes searched and threatened at the same time. Lado put out of his mind the vision of Ratface driving nails into the skull of a prisoner to punish and to get a confession of disloyalty to the all-powerful Ayatollah.
    “Your political leadership has antagonized the Americans and Europeans, important trading partners for Georgia,” Lado said. “I remind you that we face ruin if our ‘special relationship’ with Iran is discovered. So, we are interested in security also.”
    Don’t give this inquisitor a chance, Lado told himself. Georgia is a sovereign nation with secure borders guaranteed by larger nations that could squash Iran like a bug.
    “We continue to facilitate your commerce in the face of certain prohibitions imposed upon you,” Lado went on, softening a bit. Let’s be strong but not enough to piss this guy off, he thought.
    “My bank is grateful for the 20 years of close association with Iran and looks forward to our continually profitable partnership” Lado said. “Issues of ideology are not as important to us here in Georgia as, perhaps they are in your country. Profit is our motive.”
    “Profit, yes,” Ratface said.
    Did his eyes lighten up a bit? Did he want a bribe? No, that would be a trap for sure.
    Eskander, looking relieved, said, “Mr. Chikovani’s bank is becoming one of our most important conduits for