Chapter 47

Jack rehearsed his sales pitch at the kitchen counter. Nouri was his coach. Zahra was his test audience.

Practice was important. Jack had to present Zahra’s demand in a way that was satisfactory to Nouri—that “sold it.” At the

same time, he needed to signal to Andie that he wasn’t speaking of his own free will. And then there was the wild card in

all this: if Jack played it just right—“With feeling,” as Nouri put it—he might finally find out the truth about Ava Bazzi.

After a couple of trial runs, the third time was the charm.

“That was impressive,” said Nouri. “Let’s do it.”

Zahra laid Jack’s phone on the granite countertop, equidistant from Jack on one side and Zahra and Nouri on the other. Jack

speed-dialed Andie, and she answered.

“Is Zahra ready to surrender?” she asked.

“We’re ready to make a deal,” said Jack.

He’d caught her off guard. “A deal? Jack, we’re not going to—”

“Please, just listen to me, Andrea.”

There was silence on the line. He never called her Andrea. No one called her Andrea. She seemed to take his cue.

“Okay, got it,” she said. “I’m listening.”

“Zahra has specific conditions of surrender, but first it’s important for you—for the FBI—to understand where she’s coming

from. I’m not speaking to you husband to wife. I’m speaking criminal lawyer to FBI agent.”

Criminal lawyer. He hoped it registered with Andie—that term he never used, that he always corrected to “criminal defense lawyer.”

“Understood,” she said.

“Let’s go back in time to when Ava Bazzi was arrested and ‘disappeared’ in the custody of the Tehran morality police. The Iranian government claimed that she escaped and fled the country. Human rights organizations all over the world listed her as another victim of the regime. The US State Department never took a public position one way or the other. The question is: Why?”

“Are you expecting me to answer that, Jack?”

Jack ignored the question, sticking to the presentation Nouri had approved.

“Fast forward to when I became Zahra’s lawyer. The State Department still had no official position on Ava Bazzi. But behind

the scenes, it used all the leverage of the federal government—mostly through you—to make me stop trying to prove that Ava

was murdered by the regime. Again, the question is: Why?”

“You’re asking questions I can’t answer,” said Andie.

“There’s more,” he said, adding his code word for good measure, “ Andrea. ”

“I’m listening,” she said, still with him.

“At the child custody hearing in state court, Farid showed up with an order from Iranian family court granting him full custody

of Yasmin on her seventh birthday. It was a fake, but the judge enforced it because the State Department issued a certificate

saying it was authentic. Same question: Why?”

“You tell me, Jack,” said Andie.

“It’s obvious: when it comes to the disappearance of Ava Bazzi, the State Department has something to hide.”

“‘ Something to hide?’ That’s not very specific.”

“You’ll get specifics. First, here are Zahra’s terms of surrender.”

“Go ahead,” said Andie.

Jack felt the barrel of Nouri’s gun at the base of his skull. Nouri had scripted out the final part of the demand. Jack read

the exact words to Andie.

“No criminal prosecution for anything,” said Jack. “And Zahra keeps Yasmin.”

“That’s impossible,” said Andie.

“Check your email in about two minutes,” said Jack, sticking to the script. “I’m sending you a video file.”

“What video?”

“Watch the video. Show it to your ASAC, the director of the FBI, the secretary of state—whoever it takes to get authorization

to meet Zahra’s demand.”

“What’s in the video?”

Jack felt more pressure from the gun muzzle. He stuck to Nouri’s script.

“If the FBI doesn’t agree to Zahra’s terms in one hour, the whole world will see it. The file will go viral on the internet.”

Before Andie could respond, Nouri pulled the pistol away, reached for Jack’s phone, and ended the call with the press of a

button.

“Swyteck, you’re a natural,” said Nouri. “That was perfect.”

Zahra looked at him with soulful eyes. “Thank you, Jack.”

Jack looked right back at her. The gun was no longer to his head, but it had left him breathless.

“I mean this from the bottom of my heart, Zahra. Do not thank me. Not ever again.”