Conspiracy at Desert One
A novel
By Bernace Charles
The Iranian
Chapter Twenty-Two
December 1979
Istanbul
The day was cool. Laleh came down to the hotel lobby and walked to the
desk. There, she asked, "Do I have mail?" Laleh wore a denim
dress, her leather bomber jacket, and comfortable hiking boots. A white
scarf covered her dark hair.
A portly, mustached Turk in a tailored uniform attempted to uphold the
last vestige of a hotel once known for its elegance. He turned to the mail
slots. He turned back, grinned, and said, "Yes, Miss, there is a postcard."
Laleh took the card and crossed the hotel lobby to sit on a broad, aged
sofa. As she read the card, she recognized key words memorized before leaving
America. Men practiced the rescue operation. Laleh's thoughts drifted back
to the day Fred Southgate returned to her, two months after she received
official notice that Allen was missing and presumed dead. The V.C. had
shot down Allen's plane on a flight out of Thailand. Pushing the memory
away, Laleh stood, slipped the card into her jacket pocket, and set off
to photograph the Kariye Museum. Reaching the street, she hailed a taxi,
soon heading toward the Golden Horn, crossing the Ataturk Bridge, and turning
north. Neither the sight of the Golden Horn nor the drive to its west was
foremost in Laleh's thoughts.
The cab stopped before the museum. As she entered the building, the
past conquered her and they returned to the day Fred Southgate returned
to her from Southeast Asia. >>>
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