Majid Azari ran a hand through his close-cropped hair as he watched the man with silver eyes talk on the phone. Many men in his position wouldn’t tolerate the interruption, even for a second. But this man intrigued Azari. There was more than a hint of fear there, too. For all Azari’s power, and the fear he commanded in others, there was something about the robed man he couldn’t put his finger on. There was a silent power to him.