“Don’t let this tool for the American government fill your head with propaganda and lies!” The man smiled cordially, as if it was simply a joke, though not entirely. His accent was clearly Middle Eastern, though he could have passed easily at a glance for a Caucasian on any small town street in America. His hand fell warmly upon Doug’s shoulder. Doug looked him up and down and couldn’t contain his reaction.
“Ah, I see the Iranian delegation to Shosa industries has arrived as inconspicuous as ever.”
“Laugh, my friend,” the Iranian shot back, motioning to Doug’s Soviet get-up, “America will soon join the other failed relics of the Twentieth Century on the junk heap.”
“Molly, may I introduce my favorite Iranian spy, Ahmed Fallahi. Molly is with the federal Government.” Doug offered a thoroughly sarcastic grin and winked. “You two should talk!”
Fallahi was clearly surprised at the introduction, but didn’t miss a beat. “And all along I thought you were just a nice innocent Turkish girl.”
“Turkish by heritage. American by birth,” she replied, as he offered her his hand with a polite bow. “And I am indeed very nice and very innocent.”
Fallahi gave a cocktail party laugh. “You should really keep better company, my dear. Your friend here loves to invent stories for his readers, and for you, it seems. It is far too boring for him that I am simply with the diplomatic service.” He smirked in Doug’s direction. “Not his fault really. The product of America’s shameful education system, I’m afraid.”
“Interesting that a diplomat would be at a party for an arms dealer,” Doug shot back. “Buying or selling these days?”
“There you see,” Fallahi said to Molly. “The American Press, always for drama over substance.”
“I happen to think Doug is an amazing writer,” Molly defended, sipping her drink.
“Oh, I fully agree,” he replied. “Like your Stephen King or Sydney Sheldon; pure fiction!”
“You’re terrible!” said Molly, touching Doug’s arm reassuringly. She let it linger there, only drawing away when it seemed to make him uncomfortable.
Fallahi relented a bit. “You are right. Actually my good friend here is well respected in my country for his depth and fairness, despite the handicap of his nationality.”
“In that regard,” Doug capitalized fully upon the moment, “care to respond to reports that Iran is aiding the Iraqi insurgency?”
Fallahi frowned at the question, and weighed his answer carefully. “All I can say is what I read in the Western papers, and perhaps some rumors, but I think you will also find American soldiers illegally acting within our territory. Your President has invaded countries to either side of us.”
“So reports of armor piercing Improvised Explosives, reportedly made in Iran, and Iranian operatives in Iraq you would consider retaliation or self defense?”
Doug knew he was bating Fallahi, and was please to provoke the tension building in his brow. Molly could see it as well, and recognized the signs of a person who is trapped. She’d see it in interrogations a hundred times. Fallahi pursed his lips, then forced a smile.
“My country has been exceedingly restrained for these illegal incursions, but every tolerance has its limits.”
“And the operatives working with the insurgency?”
“I am only a diplomat, my friend, but we can also have a significant interest on what happens with our neighbors.”
“Clearly Iraq and Afghanistan were problems that needed to be addressed, and after September Eleventh, well...” said Molly.
“”We in Iran were as shocked and disgusted by the attacks as you, Miss Karaman, and we are no friends to the Taliban or Al Qaeda. It is well known that Mister bin Laden is an enemy of the Iranian State. But imagine if China invaded Mexico with an army of occupation. How would America feel for that, uh?”
Molly nearly took the bait. It would have been nothing to unleash a litany of Iranian violations against the International community, as well as numerous other accusations regurgitated by the Press daily. She might have argued from a point of American exceptionalism, that the United States, by fate or providence had become a force for good in the world. Who was Fallahi to Molly really? Her blood warmed steadily towards a boil, until she noticed the smirk on Doug’s face.
“Oh, you two are terrible!”
Fallahi laughed and excused himself. Doug and Molly watched as he made his way to Shosa, who greeted him as if he and Fallahi were old and dear friends.
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