The girls were led to a courtyard and executed to chants of "Allaho Akbar, Allaho Akbar." When he is able to speak to his friend Naser, he finds an emaciated shadow who puts his mouth to Kahlili's ear and whispers, "Reza, please get Parveneh and Soheil out of here. I can't watch them being tortured anymore. This is unimaginable hell in here. These bloodthirsty animals raped Parveneh in front of me. They made me watch as they twisted Soheil's ankle around in a circle. How can God allow this? I pray for my death every second."
There are other vicious regimes in the world. There are torture chambers elsewhere, too. But as Michael Ledeen has tirelessly emphasized in a series of books (e.g., "The Iranian Time Bomb"), Iran conceives of itself as a revolutionary world movement, not as the mere government of a single country. Its tendrils extend throughout the world, from Iraq to Lebanon to Latin America to Europe. The mullahs are truly the "terror masters" (another Ledeen title) and in addition to their criminality at home, they are uniquely hostile to the United States.
Kahlili's account includes the celebrations among the Revolutionary Guard when a suicide bomber killed 241 American Marines in Beirut in 1983, and when the Pan Am airliner was brought down over Lockerbie, Scotland. He saw the contempt with which the regime greeted each pathetic new attempt at engagement by American officials.
Kahlili and his family are now safe in the U.S. But as the fate of Sakineh Ashtiani highlights, the mullocracy, still nourished by crazed dogmas, continues its murderous rampage. The question that hangs in the air is this: Kahlili risked torment and death to get the truth to the United States, believing that if we but knew, we would put a stop to it. Why didn't we? There is ignorance, and then there is willful blindness. We cannot claim the former.