email us

NamehNegar Persian word processor

Puma jersey

Iranian books


Fly to Iran

US Transcom
US Transcom

Iranian books

Sehaty Foreign Exchange

Advertise with The Iranian

Cover story

 Write for The Iranian

Conspiracy at Desert One
A novel

By Bernace Charles
The Iranian

Chapter Thirty-Five

Jerusalem, 1998

David Rice walked in The Old City. It was nine P.M. as David moved down Christian Street. He did so from the direction of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Now, the street was empty as though all slipped behind its walls. The doors of the shops and cafes sat sealed behind locked, metal doors.

Rice stood before the house belonging to Laleh Sanders. Gazing in both directions knowing no one was on the street, he lifted over the wall and dropped into the inside courtyard. He managed past Roya's scooter and bicycle, climbed the outside stairs, and stood at the door. Soon, he picked the lock and slipped inside. Inside, he stood in absolute quiet. After allowing his eyes to collect starlight through windows he moved toward a door, walked a short hallway, and focused his eyes on the dark form of a bed. The bed was empty. He left the room, stepped down the hall to a second door, and pushed open the door of Roya's bedroom. Someone had shut the shutter and there wasn't enough light to see the bed. Feeling for a light switch he turned it on and as quickly turned it off. Going back down the hall he turned the light on in the first bedroom and knew Laleh and her daughter weren't there.

Returning to the kitchen, David turned on the light. As he turned to the table, he saw the novels written by Wes Walker. Knowing Walker reached Laleh before him, David brushed the books to the floor in a crash. He heard a foot strike the iron door of the courtyard as someone climbed over the street wall. He moved back from the door and pressed against the kitchen wall.


Lewis opened the door. He said, "Roya, are you back? I thought the man might have killed you." With these words, Lewis found himself at the end of a Biretta pistol.

David Rice said, "Close the door and sit." Rice waved Lewis to the near chair at the kitchen table and asked, "Where are they?"

Lewis stared at the man he thought to be code-named The Raven. He said, "You're too late. They're gone."


"I don't know. If I did, I wouldn't tell you."

David asked, "Where did they go?"

Lewis studied the man. He said, "You've come to kill them. You're too late. The mother died two days ago. The daughter has left the country."

"To where?"

"I don't know."

David believed the boy. He knew it would have been better for him if he didn't. He said, "Stand up and walk to the bedroom."

Lewis did as ordered and knowing the American was probably going to kill him. Pushing Lewis into Laleh's bedroom, David said, "Lay on the bed. Face down." After Lewis did, he moved the urn holding the mother's ashes and thought of how those killed in the death camps of Nazi Germany had simply followed orders. Now, he was doing so, and knowing it somehow didn't matter. As his thoughts turned to Roya, he felt a pillow pressed against his skull and the hard steel of the pistol buried within it. The room filled with a muffled sound. >>> Go to Chapter Thirty-Six

Your feedback is important to us.

* Back to "Conspiracy at Desert One" main index

Comment for The Iranian letters section
Comment to the writer Bernace Charles

 Send flowers

Copyright © Abadan Publishing Co. All Rights Reserved. May not be duplicated or distributed in any form

 MIS Internet Services

Web Site Design by
Multimedia Internet Services, Inc

 GPG Internet server

Internet server by
Global Publishing Group.