Chapter Sixty-Eight

Mustapha’s Daily Goods

Tehran, Iran

June 15, 6:47 p.m.

My cell vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it and looked at the code on the screen. Mr. Church. Jamsheed excused himself and went out to his store so I could take the call.

I doubted it was good news.

“I heard from Bug,” Church said. “He’s located a device here in the States.”



Bang. There it was.