The Importance of Chemistry

By Mary S. Sheppard

Uranium can be enriched for peaceful purposed, like in the case of nuclear power, but by running the centrifuges just a little longer and adding just a little more chemicals, the result is enriched material that can be used to make a dirty bomb.

Matt, an MI5 agent, is trying to find the centrifuges and destroy them before someone uses them. His path crosses with Sam and the people he is following happen to be friends of Sam’s sister. As Sam tries to get her sister back, Matt and Sam connect.
It is more than a chemical attraction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary S. Sheppard
• Release date: Jun 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005998127

Mary S. Sheppard

In my new series Samantha Keene, energy analyst extraordinaire, lead a pretty much run of the mill existence. There is always work, family and more work, but when she takes a vacation to the U.K. she is suddenly plunged into a different world, one filled with spies, intrigue, and romance and so the limited series starts.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Early April - Natanz, Iran

He stepped out of his car and the blast of hot air hit him. It might of shocked others, but not him, he was used to it. He took a deep breath taking the heat into his lungs as he surveyed the view. It was beautiful, he sighed, and he would never get tired of looking at the building and what it meant for his country.

The building was reflected onto his Ray-Bans and as he walked towards it, he could almost feel the power of the thousand centrifuges spinning inside, enrichening the uranium.

It didn’t matter that the enemies in the West knew the location of this massive building. It would take more than a few bombs to destroy the partly submerged reinforced concrete structure, and first they would have to get through the country’s air defenses and those were not trivial. The building gave his country options for a brighter future. He headed inside, smiling with pride.

Ahmad Youssef was on his way to see the manager of the facility. The manager sent him weekly detailed reports, but sometimes Ahmad liked to drop in unannounced, just to give the personal touch and also to remind them that he was keeping an eye on things. The manager’s powers of perception were not as good as his, and sometimes he missed the obvious, things that were happening around him.

Ahmad walked past the group of conference rooms. All the doors were closed, but each door had a small window through which one could see inside. He peeked inside each one as he walked. In the first room some engineers were energetically pointing at a white board covered with various equations and figures; the discussion was lively. The next rooms were empty, but in the last room two men were engaged in serious conversation. They were focused on each other intently and did not see him peek through the window.

Ahmad continued along the hallway until he came to the door with the long title, Director of Alternative Nonrenewal Energies. Underneath it, in smaller print, the was the name of the temporary holder of the title: Payam Ovadand.

Ahmad opened the door and briskly walked past the secretary nodding in her direction as she quickly stood up and greeted him respectfully. She had learned it was useless to try to detain him. Even if her boss was busy, he would drop everything to be available for Ahmad.

This time the manager was not busy and he rose up immediately to greet Ahmad. Good morning, sir.

A good morning to you, too, said Ahmad as he sat down.

I hope you had a good commute out here?

Ahmad nodded and asked about the latest report.

I have it right here, said Payam, and he brought a copy over to him.

Ahmad took the file. Good he thought, the man was prepared this time. Continue.

Payam flipped through the pages, highlighting the important points. When he finished he waited for Ahmad’s reaction.

The manager had presented his report well, thought Ahmad. It was an improvement from the first time when Payam had stumbled on the words taking twice as long to make sense. He seemed less fearful about his well-being and that gave him more confidence and the report was better. It’s like Ahmad had told his boss, fear didn’t always make the most productive workers. Well done, said Ahmad.

Payam opened his eyes wide hearing the compliment and bowed, trying to hide his pleasure.

Ahmad asked him about the meetings in the conference rooms. The manager beamed as he described the work of the young engineers. As you know, we are replacing the current aluminum rotors with maraging steel. Carbon fiber was our first choice, but that is too expensive, so the engineers are redesigning the centrifuges to extract higher speeds with what we have. He stopped suddenly and looked at Ahmad. I can explain about the technical terms… he added, distressed.

Ahmad waved his hand dismissively. No need. Ahmad knew about the project to convert the rotors. He always made it a point to learn enough to do his job. In this system, the heavier uranium hung to the walls of the centrifuge while the slightly enriched and lighter uranium was moved or cascaded to the next centrifuge to be further purified. The enriched product was what could be used to power nuclear reactors. A bit more purification yielded material that could be used in nuclear weapons. I know a ten percent increase in velocity should give you more than a thirty-five percent increase in separation of natural uranium.

Payam looked at him with respect. Yes, that is correct. We also are constantly fighting corrosion…

Yes, I know about that, interrupted Ahmad. He didn’t come to get a lecture on centrifuge systems. I am sure you and your engineers will make the best decisions for the facility. What about the other meeting?

Payam looked confused and then looked at his computer screen. I have the conference room schedule here. Oh yes. Omar Al-Fulani and his cousin Faraz Yaheer. They are of no consequence. They reserve a conference room on occasion, probably to discuss family matters. I think one of their sisters is getting married.

Omar Al-Fulani? Is that the son of Bezerra Al-Fulani?

Yes. But he is not like his father. Omar does not have the passion or drive or …, he paused.

Yes? Ahmad urged him on.

I mean, it is a blessing to not have drive if you don’t have the intellect.

That is true, Ahmad reflected. Still, it was interesting to see those two in such a deep discussion, and the Al-Fulani family was very wealthy. He made a mental note to keep an eye on them.

Chapter 2

A week later, when Omar Al-Fulani arrived at work, he went directly to the centrifuge room. He stood at the top of the stairway searching for his cousin. A person dressed in a white protective suit walked on a catwalk right below him, but he wasn’t sure it was Faraz. There was no point in calling him since his voice would be drowned out by the sound coming from the spinning centrifuges.

Just then the person on the catwalk turned and looked up. It was Faraz. Omar waved at him, signaling he should follow him inside.

Omar found an empty conference room and went inside. He had not reserved the room but knew that no one would use it for a while. He also knew it would take some time for Faraz to get out of the protective attire, but it couldn’t be helped. This was the only time he had available, and they had to make a decision.

Omar paced around the room while he waited and stopped at the window. He could see his reflection and used it to adjust his tie. He looked professional. He was taller than the average Iranian man and his mother had told him he had the elegant bone structure of the ancient Persians. His cousin was quite different. Faraz was shorter, almost stocky, and his skin and hair were several shades darker. Only Faraz’s big dark brown eyes were similar to his, but it would have been difficult to tell they were related.

Half an hour later, Faraz met him in the conference room.

Great to see you, Cousin, Faraz hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

It’s good to be back, replied Omar.

And, it went well?

You know how it went.

Oh, so you were not able to fix it?

Not for that customer, Omar sighed. We blew it with him. The sample had traces of radioactivity and he had brought a Geiger counter. After that, I decided I would just show the drawings of the system.

Yes, you mentioned you were going to do that.

The good news is that one of the other customers was very interested. Of course, they want to see some samples and a demonstration. I won’t be able to travel again so soon.

Luckily the first shipment already arrived in London and Rick can show some of those pieces to customers.

Yes, Rick will have to do it. Omar hated to depend so much on Rick; he wasn’t family. But Rick had a house in London, and they were using his house for storage. It was best to get the centrifuges out of the country as soon as possible and London had its advantages.

The second group of centrifuges is ready to go, said Faraz. If the customer agrees to the terms, when does he want the equipment?

August.

Good that is do-able.

He also asked us to help with the assembly, and they also want the instructions be translated.

To what language?

Spanish.

Do we know anyone? asked Faraz.

I’m working on it. You don’t have anyone do you?

Faraz shook his head, No.

Of course, he wouldn’t thought Omar. Faraz was not well connected. Thank goodness Juliet knew of someone.

This customer seems to be well off and motivated, said Omar. I was thinking of offering them a maintenance contract including replacements.

Replacements? Faraz looked worried.

If any part of the hardware fails, which you know happens often, I can replace it at a very good price, but only if the maintenance contract has been signed.

It’s too much Omar. I don’t want to get more involved. How are we going to ship more hardware?

Adding more shouldn’t be a problem for me, and it will mean more money. You have to think big. We didn’t take all this risk to get a few rials.

I don’t know Omar.

Faraz would say something like that, thought Omar. Faraz had not traveled the world and seen all one could get with just a bit of money. Well, he didn’t want him to worry. It is no problem whatsoever. I’ll take care of that. You just have to ship the stuff now and remember to keep everything clean. He stared at Faraz.

I made a mistake, Faraz returned the glare. It won’t happen again. I didn’t know they were so picky on the equipment.

They are picky. They pay us to be picky and…

I won’t do it again, I already said it, Faraz interrupted. Did you visit Juliet?

I did.

Faraz gave him a smirk. I knew you would, she’s beautiful but she could affect our mission.

Faraz knew nothing. She’s helping us. The business needs her as much as it needs either one of us.

Sure. I remember being single and having needs.

It just didn’t make any sense that Faraz said things to antagonize him, but he took a deep breath. He still needed Faraz. We are doing well here, and you know the benefits will come.

Faraz nodded his head slowly. Yes, they should.

I’ll talk to you next week, said Omar.

Faraz left room. Omar waited a moment and followed him out. He almost ran into his boss.

Hello, Omar, said Payam Ovad.

Hello, sir.

Were you using the conference room again?

Just briefly sir. I was talking to my cousin Faraz.

Hmm, Faraz again, said Payam. Ahmad Youssef from the Iranian Ministry of Intelligence and National Security was here checking on things last week.

That’s not unusual, is it? asked Omar. But what did it have to do with him and his cousin?

No, it’s not unusual, but he saw you and your cousin in the conference room and was wondering about it.

Yes, sir. We were having a meeting. I’m giving him advice on how to be more effective at his job.

Oh, said Payam, looking surprised. I thought it had to do with family business.

No, sir, I wouldn’t do that during business hours.

Right, that’s good, nodded Payam. You must be having a good influence on Faraz. He is doing very well at his job.

Thank you, sir, said Omar.

Well, continue with that, then.

As Omar returned to his cubicle, he was aware the boss had not mentioned anything about his own good work. Of course not. How could he even know what Omar did if he rarely talked to him? Well, he was not doing this job for compliments. This job allowed him to do the other job, and there was no better place to acquire centrifuge hardware.

His thoughts turned to Faraz. Maybe he was reading too much into Faraz’s attitude. He had to admit that it was probably difficult being in Faraz’s shoes, having to respond to everyone’s requests; but those were the shoes he was born into, and there was nothing Omar could do about that. Soon it would be better for both. Omar would be independently wealthy, and Faraz would also be richer.

Chapter 3

London - late April

The rain pounded the car as Matt Alexander looked out through the window. Somewhere out there, beyond where he could see clearly, was a yacht anchored to the dock, but there had been no activity in the last few hours.

The passenger door of the car suddenly swung open, and Harry ducked in. He was carrying two hot coffees and he handed one to Matt. Here’s your coffee. Let me get your change. He reached into his pocket.

Never mind that. It was my turn to buy coffee.

Harry looked at him and continued to dig the change out of his pocket.

Come on, you went out in this weather to get the coffee. Please, it’s my treat.

Okay, said Harry, but it doesn’t mean I can’t pay for my own.

Matt looked at Harry, surprised. Where did that comment come from?

Harry shrugged and sipped his coffee, looking straight ahead.

Matt also looked forward and took a gulp.

Any sign of Mr. Z or the other guys? asked Harry.

Mr. Z was what they had taken to calling their suspect since his real name was hard to pronounce. Nothing. They’ve probably gone to bed like we should have.

So, have you figured out why they’re using the yacht? Isn’t it registered to Bezerra Al-Fulani? Do we think he is also involved?

Not that we know. Bezerra’s businesses seem to be above board. The guy that met Mr. Z tonight is Rick Salmon. He’s a friend of Omar, Bezerra’s son. That’s probably how he gained access to the yacht.

So, the son may be involved with this money laundering scheme.

Matt nodded. Maybe.

As they watched, the few remaining lights on the yacht went off.

That settles it. We’re done for the night, said Matt.

Sneaky bastards. I know that they’re up to no good in there, and eventually we’re going to get them. I know we will.

Harry would say stuff like that, thought Matt. He wasn’t that much older than Matt, but he had some different ideas. Matt started the car. It’s just going to take time. Where should I drop you?

My mum’s.

Matt pulled out onto the empty street. They drove with only the sound of the wipers swishing back and forth and the occasional splashing of the tires hitting puddles.

I’m cleaning out the place, said Harry after a while. What do you think of an estate sale?

That sounds like a good idea, said Matt. He had been to Harry’s mother’s place and seen the piles of collectibles she had accumulated through the years. What are you going to do with the house?

The bank owns it. Mum had taken out a second mortgage.

It suddenly occurred to Matt that there might be money issues. That could explain the way Harry was acting. Matt could offer to help, but he had to phrase it delicately. One would think that after all the years they had known each other it would be easy to talk about it, but money issues were never easy.

He remembered the first time he’d met Harry Wilkins; it was six years ago. Matt was stationed in the Middle East and had just completed his first year there.

Harry had gotten off the truck and remarked on the intolerable heat. It was springtime and it was already warm, but Matt knew that the heat was yet to come. Of course, there was no point in giving Harry bad news. It was best to let the new recruits figure it out by themselves, like they had done with him.

In any case their SAS group was scheduled for nighttime missions. The squad had been tasked with destroying mobile Scuds and it was best to do that at night when they could travel through the countryside more easily. When they found the large truck convoys that carried the missiles, they would target them using lasers and call in the aircraft that would destroy them.

Occasionally they came up against troops guarding the convoys. In these close-quarter battles you learned to depend on the others in the team very quickly or you wouldn’t make it.

Once he came back to the United Kingdom, he left the Special Forces and took the job he had now. A year later Harry followed him to MI5, and when he asked Matt for a recommendation, Matt did not hesitate to give one. They had a lot of history together but still it wasn’t easy to talk about some personal things, like money.

So, Harry, Matt started slowly. Are things all right with you?

Harry gave him a sharp look. Why?

Um, I’m just wondering how you’re doing with your mum’s passing.

I’m coping fine. I don’t need time off and I don’t want to take time off if that’s what you’re asking. I want to keep busy.

Right. Matt but didn’t quite agree with that analysis and continued carefully, I’ve heard that it can be very expensive, all the medical care. Hopefully there was insurance to pay…

Matt, Harry interrupted. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you about my mom’s illness and the house. I don’t need your help; I can pay my own family’s bills. In any case, it’s not your damn business. Got it?

Okay, I got it. You don’t have to bite my head off.

Just don’t worry about it.

Chapter 4

London - July

Samantha felt his eyes on her before she saw him. She ordered tea and sandwiches, and as soon as the waiter left, she casually looked around. He was hard to miss. He was sitting a couple of tables away, elegantly dressed in a business suit. He was with someone but kept glancing in her direction. Beautiful dark eyes, a trim beard, and he carried an air of elegance.

Just beyond Mr. Dark-Eyes was another good-looking man. He was reading a newspaper, but just as she glanced at him, he looked up and their eyes connected. Normally she would have looked at away, but she didn’t, and their eyes held for a moment. He was the first to let go, returning to his newspaper.

Interesting, she had felt something there.

Just then her cell phone beeped, saving her from further examination. She looked at the screen, noting several e-mails from work and one looked important enough to open. She answered it quickly and as she pressed send, she looked up and noticed Mr. Dark-Eyes was still staring in her direction. Maybe something was wrong with her. Maybe it was her hair; it had been a long flight. She casually reached up to pat her hair.

A voice interrupted her thoughts. I’m glad you already ordered the tea.

Becca, time you showed up, she said as she stood up to give her sister a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

My flight was delayed a little. I just dropped my suitcase at the front desk and came to join you. She sat down and poured herself a cup. Ooo, look at these lacey doilies, and the sugar cubes are so cute.

Sam smiled. Yeah, and the tea is excellent. She took a good look at her younger sister. Only three years separated them, but as her comments indicated, they were worlds apart. Becca loved all the frilly, girlie things while Sam loved jeans, sports, and until recently had not worn any makeup. Still, on most days, she loved her sister. I’m happy you were able to come on this trip.

You didn’t have to ask me twice. Scotland has been on my places-to-see list for quite a while, said Becca.

How was your flight over?

You know how it is. You just have to put up with the discomfort for seemingly endless hours, but somehow you make it through, she sighed. How was your flight, especially with that last-minute change?

"Yeah, I didn’t get an aisle