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“If I had known you’d moved into this beautiful place, I would have planned on staying longer.”
“You are welcome to stay as long as you like.” Massoud took Rapp’s hand with both of his and smiled warmly. “I can’t thank you enough for what your country has done for the Kurdish peoples.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for your loyalty and support.”
“You are welcome.” Massoud looked over Rapp’s shoulder and said, “Hello, Rob. How are you, my friend?”
“I am good, Massoud. And how is your family?”
“Good. Thank you for asking. Although every time this one comes around I have to lock up my daughters.” Massoud looked at Stilwell. “They all swoon over him.”
Ridley shook Massoud’s hand. “I can have him castrated if you would like.”
“Yes, castration.” Massoud laughed heartily. “That would be very nice.”
After the laughing died down, Rapp introduced Dumond, and then Massoud led them through the house. He stopped several times to discuss artwork that he had purchased and pieces he was hoping to get his hands on. The place looked more like a small palace than a house. The interior walls were constructed of limestone blocks. The main staircase with its black iron banister dominated the left side of the entry hall. Antique tapestries and oil paintings covered the walls. They made it out onto the veranda just in time to see the sun floating on the western horizon. The entire city of Mosul lay before them with the long shadows of evening stretching toward them.
Indoor furniture and rugs had been moved outside and were waiting for them along with two butlers. Drinks were served and then appetizers. They all sat and Massoud worked his way around the group offering each guest a cigar from his humidor. As the sun went down, heat lamps were set up and ignited. After everyone had lit up, Massoud settled into his oversized chair and looked at Rapp with a devilish smile.
“You are aware of my hatred and disdain for that little peacock Amatullah.”
“Yes, I am,” Rapp replied.
“And you know I would love nothing more than to see him embarrassed.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Then I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Tell me more about your plans.”
Rapp set down his scotch and took a long pull off his Monte-cristo cigar. “I want you to think this through because there could be reprisals.”
Massoud grunted with disdain as he shook his head. “I am not afraid of the Iranian government or their cowardly Badr Brigades.”
“You know their history as well as anyone. They are not afraid to assassinate their enemies.”
“And I am not afraid to strike back. If what Stan has told me is true,” Massoud gestured at Stilwell, “and you have a chance to really embarrass that little bastard, to catch him in one of his lies, then I want to be involved.”
“What about the MEK and PMOI? Do you need to speak to them before you agree to this?”
“I could speak for the PMOI, but I won’t. The MEK I can and will speak for, and if I am right about what you would like to accomplish, the MEK is more believable.”
“I agree.”
“We will support any attempt to create instability within Amatullah’s administration.”
“Compensation?” Rapp queried.
Massoud adopted an uncomfortable expression and shifted in his oversized chair. “You have been very good to us.”
“And you to us,” Rapp replied.
“There might be some dealings you could help me with, but I don’t want to make this about that. We are
allies. We will both benefit from this.”
“True.”
“Now tell me of your plan. I am very interested to hear more details.”