After four laps, he lifted himself out of the water. A steward held a robe for him, and he slipped it on before padding barefoot to the elevator, where an operator punched a button lowering them three levels. When the doors opened, he stepped into his master suite. With a sleeping area, a large sitting room, and a mini theater, this one room took up much of the yacht’s center deck. Walking past his oversized king bed, he entered the en suite, where he stripped off his swim trunks, stepped into the shower, and let the multiple heads wash the chlorine from his skin.

When he stepped out, he paused to admire his body in the full-length mirror. Despite having reached his mid-fifties, he was still fit with just the faintest outline of the six-pack of his youth still on his abdomen. Rather than submit to the vanity of hair coloring, though, he’d let the beginnings of gray sow themselves through his full head of hair. And although the skin on his clean-shaven face was dark and tight after years spent outside overseeing his oil fields, he still could pass for a man a decade younger.

Going to his closet, he lifted a pair of white linen pants off a hanger, then grabbed a light-blue cotton shirt. After dressing, he slipped on a pair of boat shoes, leaving his socks in the drawer, and made his way to the upper deck for breakfast. He had 24 crew on board this boat, and for now, they were all there to serve just two people—him and one other.

When he exited the elevator, he saw his guest sitting at a table with a flute that held orange juice, no doubt mixed with champagne—their usual. Spread out in front of him sat bowls of fresh fruit and baskets of pastries.

Saad had heard the helicopter land on the forward helipad late last night, but he hadn’t come out of his suite to greet the man. Even though the general was his friend, he’d instructed his head steward to direct him to a guest suite and let him know the master of this yacht would meet him at breakfast the next morning. A certain decorum was important for everyone to remember who was who in the overall hierarchy.

The man noticed Saad coming toward him and quickly stood. “Good morning, my friend.”

Seeing the general in shorts and a flowered shirt buttoned only halfway up, it was hard for Saad to picture him receiving the salutes of battle-hardened soldiers of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.

“General Mousavi, I am glad to see you have arrived safely.” He shook the man’s proffered hand. “Welcome back to the Ibn Tamiyyah.”