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Ashani looked up at Rapp and noticed a large-caliber automatic holstered on his left hip. He turned back to Kennedy and said, “He is right. Most of them have been punished. Some have paid with their lives.”
“What about Amatullah?”
“As I have already told you,” Ashani said to Rapp, “his term is up in less than a year. He will not be running for office again.”
Rapp stood there and shook his head in disgust.
Ashani found the man very unsettling, so he turned his attention back to Kennedy. In a soft voice he said, “I wish there was a way I could prove to you that I had nothing to do with this crazy plot. I have four daughters and a wife. I would never have participated in something like this.”
“Yeah, you just help fund and train Hezbollah suicide bombers so they can blow themselves up in supermarkets and kill pregnant women.” With a sarcastic sneer Rapp added, “That’s much better.”
Kennedy looked at Rapp and cleared her throat. It was a signal for him to back off. She then looked at Ashani and said, “It is my hope that this experience will serve as a lesson that our two countries need to open relations. The lack of communications only allows the zealots to advance their ideas.”
“I agree,” Ashani responded.
Rapp made a face like he might get sick.
“Now, why did you travel all this way?” Kennedy asked in a congenial voice.
“The short answer…Imad Mukhtar.”
“What about him?” Rapp said.
“He is back in Lebanon.” Ashani placed a thick manila envelope on the glass table and slid it toward Kennedy. “I have prepared a dossier for you.”
Kennedy opened the package and began flipping through the pages. “This is a lot of information.” She looked at him with her searching eyes and asked, “Why?”
“Because he wants us to clean up his mess,” Rapp said.
Kennedy help up her hand, signaling to Rapp that she would like him to butt out for a minute. “Why?”
“Ayatollah Najar has asked the senior leadership of Hezbollah to arrest Mukhtar and send him to Tehran. They have assured him that they would put their full resources behind it.”
“Let me guess,” said Rapp, “they’re not putting a lot of effort into finding him.”
“They are putting no effort into finding him. They are putting all their effort into hiding him.”
“Where?” Rapp asked.
“North of Tripoli.”
“Lebanon?”
“Yes.” Ashani pointed to the file in Kennedy’s hands. “It is all in there. Bank records, known associates, et cetera…”
“There’s a lot more than that in here,” Kennedy said.
Ashani shrugged sheepishly.
Kennedy studied his face for a moment and in search of a more full answer, repeated her question. “Why?”
“Only one other person in my country knows about my trip to see you. That person and I agree that Iran’s future would be better served if we were to cut our ties with Hezbollah.”
“And by giving this to us you hope to accomplish…what?”
Ashani thought about his answer carefully and then said, “I think it will help us close a very ugly chapter in our shared history, and hopefully give you personally a sense of justice.”
Kennedy considered the thick file for a moment and said, “Thank you.”
