lines to Tehran are busyit's very difficult to get dumo.
"Could we come back later?"
..Okay. I I
They drove out of the town in the dark. After a few minutes they stopped at
a gate in a fence. The moonlight showed the distant outline of what might
have been a darn.
There was a long delay while keys to the gate were found, then they drove
in. They found themselves in a small park
ON WINGS OF EAGLES 329
surrounding an ornate, modem two-story building made of white granite. "This
is one of the Shah's palaces," the interpreter explained. "He has used it
only once, when he opened the power station. Tonight we will use it. "
They went inside. The place was cozily warm. The interpreter said
indignantly: "The heating has been on for three years just in case the Shah
should decide to drop by."
They all went upstairs and looked at their quarters. There was a luxurious
royal suite with an enormous fancy bathroom, then along the corridor were
smaller rooms, each containing two single beds and a bathroom, presumably
for the Shah's bodyguard. Under each bed was a pair of slippers.
The Americans moved into the guards' rooms and the revolutionary Kurds took
over the Shah's suite. One of them decided to take a bath: the Americans
could hear him splashing about, hooting, and hollering. After a while he
came out. He was the biggest and burliest of them, and he had put on one of
the Shah's fancy bathrobes. He came mincing down the corridor while his
colleagues fell about laughing. He went up to Gayden and said in heavily
accented English: "Complete gentleman." Gayden broke UP-
Coburn said to Simons: "What's the routine for tomorrow?"
"They want to escort us to Rezaiyeh and hand us over to the head man
there," said Simons. "It'll help to have them with us if we meet any more
roadblocks. But when we get to Rezaiyeh, we may be able to persuade them to
take us to the professor's house instead of the head man."
Coburn nodded. "Okay."
Rashid looked worried. "These are bad people," he whispered. "Don't trust
them. We've got to get out of here."
Coburn was not sure he trusted the Kurds, but he was quite certain there
would be trouble if the Americans tried to leave now.
He noticed that one of the guards had a G3 rifle. "Hey, that's a real neat
firearm," he said.
The guard smiled and seemed to understand.
"I've never seen one before," Coburn said. "How do you load it?"
"Load ... so," said the guard, and showed him.
They sat down and the guard explained the rifle. He spoke enough English to
make himself understood with the help of gestures.
330 Ken Folleu
After a while Coburn realized that he was now holding the rifle.
He started to relax.
The others wanted to take showers, but Gayden went first and used all the
hot water. Paul took a cold shower: he had sure as hell got used to cold
showers lately.
They learned a little about their interpreter. He was studying in Europe
and had been home on holiday when the revolution caught him and prevented
his going back: that was how come he knew the airport was closed.
At midnight Coburn asked him: "Can we try to place that call againT I
. 'Okay.
One of the guards escorted Coburn back into town. They went to the post
office, which was still open. However, there were no lines to Tehran.
Coburn waited until two o'clock in the morning, then gave up.
When he returned to the palace beside the dam, everyone was fast asleep.
He went to bed. At least they were all still alive. That was enough to be
thankful for. Nobody knew what was between them and the border. He would
worry about that tomorrow.
TwELvE
"Wake up, Coburn, let's move, let's go!"
Simons's gravelly voice penetrated Coburn's slumber and he opened his eyes,
thinking: Where am P
In the Shah's palace at Mahabad.
Oh, shit.
He got up.
Simons was getting the Dirty Team ready to go, but there was no sip of
their guards: Apparently they were all still asleep. The Americans made
plenty of noise, and eventually the Kurds emerged from the royal suite.
Simons said to Rashid: "Tell them we have to go, we9re in a hurry, our
friends are waiting at the border for us - "
Rashid told diem, then said: "We have to wait."
Simons did not like this. "What for?"
"They all want to take showers."
Keane Taylor said: "I don't see the urgency-most of them haven't taken a
shower in a year or two, you'd think they could wait another day."
Simons contained his impatience for half an hour, then told Rashid to tell
the guards again that the team had to hurry.
"We have to see the Shah's bathroom," Rashid said.
"Goddammit, we've seen it," said Simons. "What's the delay?"
Everyone trooped into the royal suite and dutifully exclaimed at the
shameful luxury of an unused palace; and still the guards would not move
out.
Coburn wondered what was happening. Had they changed their minds about
escorting the Americans to the next town? Had
331
332 Ken Follett
Bolourian checked up on EDS during the night? Simons would not be kept here
much longer . . .
Finally the young interpreter showed up, and it turned out the guards had
been waiting for him. The plan was unchanged: a group of Kurds would go
with the Americans on the next leg of their journey.
Simons said: "We have friends in Rezaiyeh-we'd like to be taken to their
house, rather than go see the head man of the town. "
"It's not safe," said the interpreter. "The fighting is heavy north of
here--4he city of Tabriz is still in the hands of the Shah's supporters. I
must hand you over to people who can protect you."
"All right, but can we leave now?"
"Sure. 11
They left.
They drove into the town and were ordered to stop outside a house. The
interpreter went in. They all waited. Somebody bought bread and cream
cheese for breakfast. Coburn got out of his car and went to Simons's.
"What's happening now?"
"This is the mullah's house," Rashid explained. "He is writing a letter to
the mullah of Rezaiyeh, about us. "
It was about an hour before the interpreter came out with the promised
letter.
Next they drove to the police station, and there they saw their escort
vehicle: a big white ambulance with a flashing red light on top, its
windows knocked out, and some kind of identification scrawled on its side
in Farsi with red magic marker, presumably saying "Mahabad Revolutionary
Committee" or something similar. It was full of gun-toting Kurds.
So much for traveling inconspicuously.
At last they got on the road, the ambulance leading the way.
Simons was anxious about Dadgar. Clearly no one in Mahabad had been alerted
to look out for Paul and Bill, but Rezaiyeh was a much bigger town. Simons
did not know whether Dadgar's authority extended into the countryside: all
he knew was that so far Dadgar had always surprised eve
ryone by his
dedication and his ability to persist through changes of government. Simons
wished the team did not have to be taken before the Rezaiyeh authorities.
"We have good friends in Rezaiyeh," he told the young
ON WINGS OF EAGLES 333
interpreter. "If you could take us to their house, we'd be very safe there."
"Oh, no," said the interpreter. "if I disobey orders and you get hurt,
there will be hell to pay."
Simons gave up. It was clear they were as much prisoners as guests of the
Kurds. The revolution in Mahabad was characterized by Communist discipline
rather than Islamic anarchy, and the only way to get rid of the escort
would be by violence. Simons was not yet ready to start a fight.
Just outside the town, the ambulance pulled off the road and stopped at a
little caft.
"Why am we stopping?" Simons said.
"Breakfast," said the interpreter.
"We don't need breakfast," Simons said forcefully.
"But-"
"We don't need breakfast!"
The interpreter shrugged, and shouted something to the Kurds getting out of
the ambulance. They got back in and the convoy drove on.
They reached the outskirts of Rezaiyeh late in the morning.
Their way was barred by the inevitable roadblock. This one was a serious,
military-style affair of parked vehicles, sandbags, and barbed wire. The
convoy slowed, and an armed guard waved them off the road and into the
forecourt of a filling station that had been turned into a command post.
The approach road was well covered by machine guns in the filling-station
building.
T"he ambulance failed to stop soon enough and ran right into the
barbed-wire fence.
The two Range Rovers pulled up in an orderly fashion.
The ambulance was immediately surrounded by guards, and an argument
started. Rashid and the interpreter went over to join in. The Rezaiyeh
revolutionaries did not automatically assume that the Mahabad
revolutionaries were on their side. The Rezaiyeh men were Azerbaijainis,
not Kurds, and the argument took place in Turkish as well as Farsi.
The Kurds were being ordered to turn in their weapons, it seemed, and they
were refusing angrily. The interpreter was showing the note from the
Mahabad mullah. Nobody was taking much notice of Rashid, who was suddenly
an outsider.
Eventually the interpreter and Rashid came back to the cars. "We're going
to take you to a hotel," said the interpreter, "then I will go and see the
mullah. "
334 Ken Follett
The ambulance was all tangled up in the barbed-wire fence, and had to be
extricated before they could go. Guards from the roadblock escorted them
into the town.
It was a large town by the standards of the Iranian provinces. It had
plenty of concrete and stone buildings and a few paved roads. The convoy
pulled up in a main street. Distant shouting could be heard. Rashid and the
interpreter went into a buildingpresumably a hotel--and the others waited.
Coburn felt optimistic. You didn't put prisoners into a hotel before
shooting them. This was just administrative hassle.
Tle distant shouting grew louder, and a crowd appeared at the end of the
street.
In the rear car Coburn said: "What the hell is this?"
The Kurds jumped out of their ambulance and surrounded the two Range
Rovers, forming a wedge in front of the lead car. One of them pointed to
Coburn's door and made a motion like turriing a key. "Lock the doors,"
Coburn said to the others.
The crowd came closer. It was some kind of street parade, Coburn realized.
At the head of the procession were a number of army officers in tattered
uniforms. One of them was in tears. "You know what I think?" said Coburn.
"The army just surrendered, and they're running the officers down Main
Street. "
The vengeful crowd surged around the vehicles, jostling the Kurdish guards
and looking through the windows with hostile glares. The Kurds stood their
ground and tried to push the crowds away from the cars. It looked as though
it would turn into a fight at any moment. -Tbis is getting ugly," said
Gayden. Coburn kept an eye on the car in front, wondering what Simons would
do.
Coburn saw the snout of a gun aimed at the window on the driver's side.
"Paul, don't look now, but someone's pointing a gun at your head."
6 11
'Jesus ...
Coburn could imagine what would happen next: The mob would start rocking
the cars, then they would turn them over . . .
Then, suddenly, it ended. The defeated soldiers were the main attraction,
and as they passed on, the crowd followed. Coburn relaxed. Paul said: "For
a minute there . . . "
Rashid and the interpreter came out of the hotel. Rashid said: 1611ey don't
want to know about a bunch of Americans going into their hotel--4hey won't
take the risk." Coburn took that to mean that feelings were running so high
in the town that the
ON WINGS OF EAGLES 335
hotel could get burned by the mob for taking in foreigners. "We have to go
to revolutionary headquarters. "
They drove on. There was feverish activity in the streets: lines of pickup
trucks of all shapes and sizes were being loaded with supplies, presumably
for the revolutionaries still fighting in Tabriz. The convoy stopped at
what appeared to be a school. There was a huge, noisy crowd outside the
courtyard, apparently waiting to get in. After an argument, the Kurds
persuaded the gate sentry to admit the ambulance and the two Range Rovers.
The crowd reacted angrily when the foreigners went in. Coburn breathed a
sigh of relief as the courtyard gate closed behind him.
They got out of the can. The courtyard was crammed with shot-up
automobiles. A mullah was standing on a stack of rifle crates conducting a
noisy and passionate ceremony with a crowd of men. Rashid said: "He is
swearing in fresh troops to go to Tabriz and fight for the revolution. "
The guards led the Americans toward the school building on one side of the
courtyard. A man came down the steps and started yelling at them angrily,
pointing at the Kurds. "They must not go into the building armed," Rashid
translatedL
Coburn could tell the Kurds were getting jumpy: to their surprise, they
found themselves in hostile territory. They produced the note from the
Mahabad mullah. There was more argument.
Eventually Rashid said: "You all wait here. I'm going inside to talk to the
leader of the revolutionary committee.- He went up the steps and
disappeared.
Paul and Gayden lit cigarettes. Paul felt scared and dejected. These people
were bound to call Tehran, he felt, and find out all about him. Getting
sent back to jail might be the least of his worries now. He said to Gayden:
"I really appreciate what you've done for me, but it's a shame, I think
we've had it."
Coburn was more worried about the mob outside the gate. In here at least
someone was trying to maintain order. Out there was a wolf pack. What if
they persuaded some goofy guard to open the gate? It would be
a lynch mob.
In Tehran a fellow--aii Iranian-who had done something to anger a crowd had
been literally pulled apart, his arms and legs torn off by people who were
just crazed, hysterical.
The guards jerked their weapons, indicating that the Americans should move
to one side of the courtyard and stand against a wall. They obeyed, feeling
vulnerable. Coburn looked at the
336 Ken Follett
wall. It had bullet holes in it. Paul had seen them, too, and his face was
white. "My God," he said. "I think we bought the farm. I I
Rashid asked himself. What will be the psychology of the leader of the
revolutionary committee?
He has a million things to do, Rashid thought. He has just taken control of
this town, and he has never been in power before. He must deal with the
officers of the defeated army, he must round up suspected SAVAK agents and
interrogate them, he must get the town running normally, he must guard
against a counterrevolution, and he must send troops to fight in Tabriz.
All he wants to do, Rashid concluded, is cross things off his list.
He has no time or sympathy for fleeing Americans. If he must make a
decision, he will simply throw us in jail for the time being, and deal with
us later, at his leisure. Therefore, I must make sure that he does not
decide.
Rashid was shown into a schoolroom. The leader was sitting on the floor. He
was a tall, strong man with the thrill of victory in his face; but he
looked exhausted, confused, and restless.
Rashid's escort said in Farsi: "This man comes from Mahabad with a letter
from the mullah-he has six Americans with him."
Rashid thought of a movie he had seen in which a man got into a guarded
building by flashing his driving license instead of a pass. If you had
enough confidence you could undermine people's suspicions.
"No, I come from the Tehran Revolutionary Cormnittee," Rashid said. "There
are five or six thousand Americans in Tehran, and we have decided to send
them home. The airport is closed, so we will bring them all out this way.
Obviously we must make arrangements and set up procedures for handling all
these people. That is why I am here. But you have many problems to deal
widi--perhaps I should discuss the details with your subordinates.
"Yes," said the leader, and waved them away.
Follett, Ken - On Wings of Eagles.txt Page 44