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THE
PERSIAN LETTER
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From
the air, Teheran looked like any other city in the Middle
East. A few scattered minarets poking through the purple
dust, a few large buildings, and a sprawl of mud houses
fanning out in all directions. Looking down on the capital
of Iran, Kim Roosevelt wondered, Is this where the future
of the Western world's oil is going to be decided? To
him, Teheran meant dust, open sewers running beside the
narrow streets, noisy bazaars, and frustrating traffic
jams.
The Pan American plane taxied to a halt on the tarmac.
A black Cadillac with an American flag was waiting on
the tarmac. While the other passengers walked to the Iranian
passport control office, Roosevelt got into the Cadillac
that Steer had sent for him. A gate opened, no passport,
no visa, no customs for Kim Roosevelt.
The Embassy Cadillac took
him directly to the Park Hotel. He carried only an attache
case. He did not plan to stay long, he never did. He proceeded
to a suite on the sixth floor. Inside, a short, solidly
built man in his late fifties was pacing back and forth.
"Terribly sorry to keep you waiting, Norm." Roosevelt
said, extending his hand to Norman Schwartzkopf. Schwartzkopf
stopped pacing. He looked Roosevelt squarely in the face
without speaking. He had learned how to use silence to
elicit information in his career as a police detective.
Twenty years earlier, as a captain in the New Jersey State
Police, he had handled the search for the kidnappers of
Charles Lindbergh's child. He became the most famous policeman
in the world for almost a decade. When Japan attacked
Pearl Harbor, he worked the OSS as its liaison with the
military police agencies. That was where he had first
met Kim. After the war ended, Kim had expressed concern
to him that the new Shah, then only 25 years old, needed
protection from potential assassins. Kim asked if he would
he be interested in organizing the Shah's security. He
wanted to escape the tedium of New Jersey, where he had
been too much of a celebrity from the Lindbergh case to
do any real police work. He answered affirmatively. One
week later the Shah offered him the job of training the
Iranian Imperial Gendarmerie. He spent three years in
Iran building the Shah's private police, which he called
jokingly the "Imperial Lifeguards." He then returned to
New Jersey, and tried, without much success, to enjoy
retirement. Then Kim called. He told him that Boy Scout
their old codename for the Shah was in trouble. Could
he provide him with introductions to his "old friends"
in Teheran? The "old friends" Kim wanted to meet were
now running Iran's internal security apparatus, the Savak.
He again said yes. An air ticket arrived by messenger
an hour later. And he returned to Teheran for what he
described at passport control as a "social visit." "How's
young Norm. Still up for the Point?" Roosevelt asked.
He had used his family connections to make sure that Schwartzkopf's
son would have a place at West Point. He wanted Schwartzkopf
to be in his debt. "Little Norm is a real ball-breaker."
Schwartzkopf replied,. He took great pride in his son,
but he didn't like small talk. He was in Teheran for a
purpose. He got to the business at hand, "It's going to
take some time to renew old acquaintances. The phones
here don't work half the time..." "Boy Scout does not
have a great deal of time," Roosevelt interrupted. Ajax
had to be carried in five months. "I hope you have time
for a mountain barbecue. I've arranged a jeep."
It took nearly two hours of weaving through donkey carts
to get to the village of Sultana. Towering over the tiny
mud houses were the ruins of a Safavid
fort. The driver pulled the jeep up in front of the ruin.
About a dozen men were milling about the entrance, all
wore sun glasses and carried Thompson sub-machine guns.
They were there, as Schwartzkopf had explained in his
briefing to protect General Fazlollah Zahedi. Mossadeq
has put a 100,000 Rial price on Zahedi's head. "He wants
him alive in prison or dead anywhere." "And we want him
in Teheran," Roosevelt said. He had plans for General
Zahedi. The CIA had assessed that Zahedi was the most
respected officer in Iran's military. He had also been
an outspoken foe of Mossadeq. But his greatest advantage,
as far as Roosevelt was concerned, was that he was dependably
anti- British. Ten years earlier, a British commando team
had unceremoniously kidnapped him from a nightclub in
Isfahan. The British, acting on bad intelligence, had
a tip Zahedi had made contact with a German agent. When
the tip proved baseless, he was released, but he had never
forgiven the British for humiliating him. His well- known
hatred for the British made him invaluable to the Ajax's
scenario. If they could keep him safe for the next five
months, he would be designated as the Prime Minister on
Move 15.
Roosevelt followed Schwartzkopf down a narrow path, under
the remains of a Safavid
arch, and into a courtyard lit by torchlight. In the center
was a huge pit lined with white-hot stones. Off the end
of another half-collapsed arch that looked like a giant
question mark against the moonlit sky hung about a dozen
baby goats of varying sizes. Yellow flames were leaping
high in the air as the fat dripped onto the sizzling stones
Zahedi, dressed in a black business suit, was eating at
an oddly incongruent picnic table. He was a thin man with
decisive hawk-like nose and flickering eyes. He embraced
Schwartzkopf with both arms. He had known him when he
trained the Shah's security force. He liked his silent
tenacity. He found Americans, unlike the British, did
what they promised. At least, Schwartzkopf did. "Norm,
it is kind of you to pay us a visit and bring with you
such an illustrious American." "I've looked forwarded
to meeting you, General," Roosevelt said, clenching his
hand in his iron grip. "Ardeshir had told me about the
problem you are dealing with." Name-dropping was stand
operating procedure with Roosevelt. Ardeshir was the General's
only son, who was living in Switzerland. "It is my pleasure,
Mr. Roosevelt...: "Kim" "Ardeshir has told me that you
are a great friend of Iran." Ardeshir had agreed to serve
as a conduit between his father and the Americans. Zahedi
knew that the "problem" Roosevelt referred to was Mossadeq.
Servants filled the plates with freshly-cooked kid and
mounds of spiced rice. They averted their eyes from the
faces of the guests, as they had been trained to do.
Roosevelt ate with his hands "native dining." Schwartzkopf
used the silverware. "You are in danger, General," Roosevelt
said. "Mossadeq sees you as the only obstacle that prevents
him from taking total control of the Iranian army." "That
is why I am staying in Iran. I am protected in the mountains."
Zahedi stood up and signaled. Armed men appeared out of
the shadows, lining the walls of the ruin. He had his
own private army. "If Mossadeq has an arrest warrant for
me. Let him try and serve it." Roosevelt knew that Zahedi's
army, though not large, was highly disciplined. "Mossadeq
is not foolish enough to send his troops after you, General.
If they left Teheran, who would protect him and his friends
in Parliament?" "So it is a standoff," Zahedi said. "Temporarily.
But that will change. The most important part of our job
America's job is to keep you out of harm's way for the
next few months," Roosevelt said. Zahedi had hoped that
the Americans would move sooner. He shook his head. "Much
can happen in a few months.. Sooner would be better.".
"We got to stick to the game plan. It has been well worked
out." Schwartzkopf cut his meat while he listened to
Kim. He knew Kim's last plan, installing a fake holy man
in Iraq, had failed miserably. Was the Ajax scenario any
better conceived? He had his doubts about unanticipated
consequences. "Norm will stick around a while," Roosevelt
told Zahedi. Schwartzkopf knew what was expected of him.
He would organize his contacts in the Savak for Roosevelt.
They would penetrate Mossadeq's security apparatus, allowing
him, if all went well, to keep one step ahead of Mossadeq.
Roosevelt ripped off another piece of kid and chewed it.
"Superb. Better than anything you'd ever find in Paris."
He raised his glass, "To the Shah" and got up to leave,
then stopped. "Almost forget," he said, taking an envelope
from his pocket and handing it to Zahedi. "A small cadeau,
General, A Persian letter." Roosevelt intended the gift
to show his good faith and power. It had been compiled
by the CIA from radio communication intercepted directly
from Mossadeq's party headquarters. Zahedi removed the
dossier from the envelope. His eyes widened as he read
the names of a dozen agents that Mossadeq's men had bribed,
compromised or otherwise recruited in Zahedi's camp. With
this list, Zahedi realized he could deal with his enemies.
Mossadeq's agents, one by one, would disappear, or even
better serve his purpose. "If there is anything you need,
General and I mean anything ask Norm. I have to get back
to Washington." |
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