directorates. He had several assignments overseas and then, in 2004, he was promoted to Deputy Director of Operations (DDO).
His personal relationship with Ali Qatada had contributed greatly to his success, but he had started to fear for his friend’s safety. Vast improvements in cryptography and electronic surveillance made any communication with Ali dangerous. It was only a matter of time before Iranian intelligence agencies would discover him. Will tried every means possible to have Ali extricated to the U.S., but his superiors had always felt the intelligence value of this “resource” was worth too much.
Reunion
Ali slept fitfully and awoke at dawn. The phone rang and he heard a familiar voice. “Ali! How are you old friend?”
“I am fine, Will. It is wonderful to be back in America. I am looking forward to our reunion!”
“Good, I’m going to the office early this morning, then will drive down to see you around ten o’clock, if that’s okay with you.”
“Excellent, Will, I look forward to it!”
Ali Abu Qatada was no longer a Minister in the government of Iran. He was now a private citizen, a fugitive from his homeland.
He turned on the television to watch CNN. For several hours before Will’s arrival, he watched for any reference to his escape. There was nothing regarding Iran except another commentary from the U.S. Secretary of State about controlling nuclear proliferation in the Middle East. His departure would probably never be apparent except for the diplomatic community. None of these concerns would rise to national news worthiness.
A little before ten, he turned off the set, and a dark limousine arrived moments later. Ali stood by the front window as three men approached the house. He didn’t recognize Will immediately, who was older and heavier than he remembered. One of the CIA men walked ahead and knocked on the door, then opened it for the Director. As Lawrence entered the house, he and Ali embraced.
Lawrence said, “It’s been a long time old buddy.”
“Yes, my friend, we must somehow make up for time lost. Do I look as old to you as you to me? We were such young men at Berkeley.”
They spend several minutes sitting and talking while the other two men went into the Kitchen to make coffee. As the small talk ebbed, Lawrence explained, “Ali, you will remain in this house a few days, maybe a week, until we have your new identity established. After that, you will be moved to a location of your choosing with a retirement plan paid by the U.S. Government.”
The Sheik had never married and had no close relatives, so the logistics were simple. He would be granted full U.S. citizenship under a fictitious name, with a social security number.
He continued, “I will be your only contact within the government; any information or advice you wish to share about Iran will only come to me. I hope this is satisfactory.”
Ali answered, “Quite so, old friend. I am already feeling as though the yoke of servitude has been lifted from my neck.”
The house was small and the men in the kitchen could hear elements of this discussion. When they finished talking about the arrangements, Lawrence suggested that they take a walk in the woods behind the house. The two CIA men were told they would stay at the house.
As they progressed into the forest, Lawrence said, “So, friend, I have fulfilled my bargain.”
“Yes things are progressing nicely old chum, so let me put your mind at ease. As soon as I am settled in my new arrangement, we should take a trip together to a wonderful vacation spot in a foreign island location. I promise you that you will return very pleased.”
“Ali that is music to my ears.”
Over the next week, numerous meetings were held at the house. Ali Abu Qatada was given a U.S. naturalization certificate of citizenship, a passport and a social security card with the name Farid Saberi. He would be known as “Frank” Saberi, living in Arizona, which had a climate similar to his native land. Records were fabricated that showed his parents coming to America in 1975 as diplomats under the Shah, then staying under asylum when the pro-western regime was toppled by Islamic fundamentalists in 1979. Both of Frank’s parents were deceased and he had become a naturalized citizen in 1982. His Berkeley diploma was altered to reflect his new name.
Within a week after receiving his new identity, he was flown from Vint Hill to Davis Monthon Air Force Base in Tucson. During the flight, the CIA gave him Frank Saberi’s driver’s license showing his new address in a condominium in Scottsdale. He was a retired civil servant with a nice income provided by the government. When the plane landed, Frank and one of the CIA escorts drove north to his new home in his new Honda Accord, purchased in Scottsdale under Frank’s name. In Iran, he had only driven himself occasionally for amusement, so he would need to practice. En route from Tucson, the CIA agent rehearsed his story over and over. His address was a new condominium complex, so he was no more of a standout than any other owners.
For six more weeks, he communicated with Lawrence on various matters until both were content that he was living a normal American life, free from security worries. No mention of the Minister’s fate was ever revealed by the Iranian government, but the world diplomatic community recognized his absence. It was time to withdraw CIA protection personnel and live a normal life. He had altered his appearance by remaining clean shaven and cutting his hair differently. After Lasik eye surgery and a personal fitness program that helped lose fifty pounds, Ali Abu Qatada was no longer discernable.
Content that he could travel inconspicuously, Frank Saberi sent a brief email to his friend Will. “I want to take a Caribbean vacation very soon. Would you like to come also?”
Within two hours, there was a response, “I need some time off, and the Caribbean would be perfect!”
Frank responded, “Smashing! I’ll make all the arrangements for both of us. I have but one more favor to ask of you.”
Recovery
Rachael stayed at the hospital for several days while Peter was being treated. He underwent two surgeries to clean the wound and reattach muscle tissue. Each operation caused the recovery process to start over, so he was in the hospital over two weeks before well enough to leave. He had been on intravenous antibiotic treatment the whole time and had been receiving physical therapy to help him regain strength and flexibility in his back.
He hated the idea of rolling to the door in a wheelchair, but couldn’t walk the entire distance. He was given a regimen of pills and therapy that would continue for several weeks and then taper off once he regained un-aided mobility. General Simmons allowed Rachael unlimited time to be with him
As he was wheeled to the entrance, she parked her car by the lobby door and helped him into the front seat. It was late evening when they left the hospital, and she would be bringing him back in the morning for therapy and suture removal.
He felt the rush of fresh outside air, which he appreciated after sterile confinement. On the way to her apartment, they talked about spending time away. It would be a few weeks before he was well enough to travel, and he would be meeting with many people in the forthcoming days.
A week later, Peter was regaining stamina and Simmons asked him to come to the Pentagon for debriefing. Rachael drove them across the Potomac; and would attend the meeting in an official capacity.
Peter was in uniform and appeared to be recovering well. The only visible evidence of his ordeal was a noticeable lack of energy and a cane used to help with support, but the morning meeting was no problem. When they got to the General’s office complex, Simmons came out to greet Peter and offered to get him a cup of coffee, a rare gesture for a flag to a junior grade officer. Peter accepted black coffee and followed the General to his conference room. At almost the same time, Director Lawrence arrived with two subordinate personnel. Shortly thereafter, Hale Warner’s replacement from NSA, Jen Richardson, arrived.
Simmons opened the meeting saying, “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. This meeting is classified and no notes are to be taken. We are creating a record of the extraction of an Irania
n Minister from his country by Major Shields and our naval SOF team. Commander Growley of SEAL Team Two has documented the events before and after the mission. This meeting is to record the events when Major Shields was alone in country.”
Addressing Peter, Simmons continued, “Okay Major, there is no structure to this inquiry, so why don’t you give us all a chronological review of your time on the sand, so folks can ask questions.”
“Yes, General. Well, let me begin from the time we landed on the beach through to the time the SEALs took custody of the Minister two days later.”
Peter gave a factual account of the operation, answering questions as they occurred, mostly concerned about any evidence left behind. He stressed the vital role the Internet played with information from the CIA. At the conclusion, it seemed unlikely that the Iranians would even publicize the Minister’s escape. There were several congratulatory remarks before Lawrence said, “Major, that was one heroic thing you did. I would never value any life more than another, but Minister Abu Qatada has been a strong ally to us and has made a point of telling me how you risked your life to save his. I can’t imagine what it’s like to do something like that, but I’m grateful that we have people like you.”
Peter thanked him for the accolade, but was feeling strained. When the meeting adjourned, Simmons