lochart whistled. aryani was the legendary head of the air force who, according to rumor, also had been like captain of the praetorian guard in roman times to the shah, his confidant and married to one of his sisters. he had been killed hang gliding two years ago. "was this where he was killed?"
"yes." ali pointed to the other side of the lake. "they say he got into stillair turbulence and went into those cliffs."
lochart studied him. "'they say'? you don't believe that?"
"no. i'm sure he was assassinated. in the air force most of us're sure."
"you mean his hang glider was sabotaged?"
ali shrugged. "i don't know. perhaps, perhaps not, but he was much too careful and clever a pilot and flier to get into turbulence. aryani would never've flown on a bad day." he went out into the sun. below they could hear the voices and laughter of some of the others, and valik's children playing down by the lake. "he used a speedboat to take off. he'd wear short water skis, then hold on to a long rope attached to the speedboat that'd go charging down the lake and when he was fast enough he'd drop his skis and go airborne and soar up five hundred, a thousand feet, then cast off and spiral down and land within inches of the raft down there."
"he was that good?"
"yeah, he was that good. he was too good, that's why he was murdered."
"by whom?"
"i don't know. if i did, then he or they would have died long ago."
lochart saw the adoration. "you knew him, then?"
"i was his aide, one of his aides, for a year. he was easily the most wonderful man i have ever known the best general, the best pilot, best sportsman, skier everything. if he had been alive now the shah would never have been trapped by foreigners or snared by our archenemy carter, the shah'd never have left, iran would never have been allowed to slide into the abyss, and the generals would never have been allowed to betray us." ali abbasi's face twisted with anger. "it's impossible to conceive that we could be so betrayed with him alive."
"then who killed him? khomeini's followers?"
"no, not three years ago. he was a famous nationalist, shiite, though a modern. who? tudeh, fedayeen or any fanatic of the right, left, or center who wanted iran weakened." ali looked at him, dark eyes in a chiseled face. "there are even those who say people in high places feared his growing power and popularity."
lochart blinked. "you mean the shah might have ordered his death?"
"no. no, of course not, but he was a threat to those who misguided the shah. he was farrnandeh, a commander of the people. he was a threat al! over: to british interests, because he supported prime minister mossadegh who nationalized anglo-iranian oil, he supported the shah and opec when they quadrupled the cost of oil. he was pro-israel though not anti-arab, so a threat to the plo and yasir arafat. he could have been considered a threat to american interests to any or all of the seven sisters because he didn't give a good goddamn for them or anyone. anyone. for above all he was a patriot." ali's eyes had a strange look to them. "assassination is an ancient art in iran. wasn't ibn-al-sabbah one of us?" his mouth smiled, his eyes didn't. "we're different here."
"sorry ibn-al-sabbah?"
"the old man of the mountains, hassan ibn-al-sabbah, the isma'in religious leader who invented the assassins in the eleventh century, and their cult of political assassination."
"oh, sure, sorry i wasn't thinking. wasn't he supposed to be a friend of omar khayyam?"
"some legends say so." ali's face was etched. "aryan) was murdered, by whom, no one knows. yet." together they pulled the shed door closed.
"what now?" lochart asked.
"now we wait. then we'll go on." into exile ali thought. never mind, it will only be temporary and at least i know where i'm going, not like the shah, poor man, who's an outcast. i can go to the states.
only he and his parents knew that he had a u.s. passport. goddamn, he thought, how clever of dad: "you never know, my son, what god has in store," his father had said gravely. "i advise you to apply for a passport while you can. dynasties never last, only family. shahs come and go, shahs feed off each other, and the two pahlavis together are only fifty-four-year highnesses imperial majesties! what was reza khan before he crowned himself king of kings? a soldier-adventurer, the son of illiterate villagers from mazandaran near the caspian."
"but surely, father, reza khan was a special man. without him and mohammed reza shah, we'd still be slaves of the british."
"the pahlavis were of use to us, my son, yes. in many ways. but reza
shah failed, he failed himself and failed us by stupidly believing the germans would win the war and tried to support the axis and so gave the occupying british an excuse to depose him and exile him."
"but, father, mohammed shah can't fail! he's stronger than his father ever was. our armed forces are the envy of the world. we've more airplanes than britain, more tanks than germany, more money than croesus, america's our ally, we're the biggest military power and policeman of the middle and near east, and the leaders of the outside kowtow to him even brezhnev."
"yes. but we do not yet know what is the will of god. get the passport."
"but a u.s. passport could be very dangerous, you know how it's said almost everything goes through savak to the shah! what if he heard, or general aryani heard? that'd ruin me in the air force?"
"why should it for of course you would tell them proudly you just got the passport, and kept it secret, against the day you could put it to use for the good of the pahlavis. eh?"
"of course!"
"open your eyes to the ways of the world, my son the promises of kings have no value, they can plead expedience. if this shah or the next, or even your great general has to choose between your life and something of more value to them, which would they choose? put no trust in princes, or generals, or politicians, they will sell you, your family, and your heritage for a pinch of salt to put on a plate of rice they won't even bother to taste..."
and oh how true! carter sold us out and his generals, then the shah and his generals, and our generals did the same to us. but how could they be so stupid as to assassinate themselves? he asked himself, shuddering at the thought of how close he had been to death in isfahan. they must have all gone mad!
"it's cold in the shade," lochart said.
"yes, yes, it is." all looked back at him and shook off his anxiety. generals are all the same. my father was right. even these two bastards valik or seladi, they'd have sold us all if need be, still will. they need me because i'm the only one who can fly them apart from this poor fool who doesn't know he's in dead trouble. "get rid of this lochart," seladi had said. "why take him to safety? he would have left us at isfahan, why not leave him here? dead. we can't leave him alive, he knows us all and he'd betray us all."
"no, excellency uncle," valik had said. "he's more use as a gift to the kuwaitis, or iraqis, they can jail him or extradite him. it was he who stole an iranian helicopter and agreed for money to fly us out. didn't he?"
"yes. even so, he can still give our names to the revolutionaries."
"by that time we will all be safe and our families safe."
"i say dispose of him he would have sacrificed us. dispose of him and we will go to baghdad, not kuwait."
"please, excellency, reconsider. lochart is the more experienced pilot..." all glanced at his watch. just thirty minutes to takeoff. he saw lochart glance at the house where valik, seladi were. i wonder who won, valik or seladi? is it the inside of a kuwaiti or iraqi jail for this poor joker, or a bullet in the head? i wonder if they'll bury him after they shoot him or just leave him to the vultures.
"what's the matter?" lochart asked.
"nothing. nothing, captain, just thinking how lucky we were to escape isfahan."
"yes, i still think i owe you my life." lochart was certain that if ali and the major hadn't released him he would have ended up before a komiteh kangaroo court. and if he was caught now? the same. he had not allowed his mind to think about sharazad or tehran or
to make a plan. that comes later, he told himself again. once you see how this turns out and where you end up.
where're they planning to go? kuwait? or maybe just a quick stab over the border into iraq? iraq's usually hostile to iranians so that might be dicey for them. kuwait's an easy flight from here and most kuwaitis are sunni and therefore anti-khomeini. against that, to get there, you have to sneak through a lot of sensitive airspace, iranian and iraqi, both nervous, jumpy, and triggerhappy. within fifty miles there must be twenty iranian air bases, fighter operational, with planes gassed up and dozens of petrified pilots anxious to prove loyalty to the new regime.
and what about your promise to mciver not to fly them the last leg?
because of isfahan you're marked now there's no way the revs will have forgotten your name or the registration of the airplane. did you see anyone write your name down? no, i don't think so. even so, you'd better get out while you can, you're implicated in an escape, men were killed at isfahan whichever way you stack it you're marked.
what about sharazad? i can't leave her.
you may have to. she's safe in tehran.
what if they come looking for you and sharazad answers the door and they take her away in place of you?
"i could use a cold drink," he said, his mouth suddenly dry. "you think they have a coke or something?"
"i'll go see." they both looked off as valik's children came bounding up the path from the lake, annoush close behind them.
"ah," she said to them with her happy smile, but dark shadows around her eyes, "it is a wonderful day, isn't it? we're so lucky."
"yes," both said and wondered how such a woman could marry such a man. she was very good to look at and as beautiful a mother as could be.
"captain abbasi, where's my husband?"
"in the house, highness, with the others," ali said. "may i escort you, i was just going there?"
"would you find him for me, please, and ask him to join me?"
ali did not wish to leave her alone with lochart, for she had been present when valik and seladi had told him of their plans, asking his advice about their destination though not about lochart's elimination, that had come later. "i wouldn't want to disturb the general by myself, highness, perhaps we could go together."
"you will please find him for me." she was as imperious as the general, though kindly and without insult.
ali shrugged. insha'allah, he thought, and went off. when they were quite alone, her two children running around the shed, playing hide- and-seek, annoush touched lochart gently. "i haven't thanked you for our lives, tommy."
lochart was startled. this was the first time she had ever called him by his first name he had always been
"captain lochart" or "my cousin-in-law" or
"his excellency, the husband of sharazad." "i was glad to help."
"i know that you and dear old mac did it for the children and me don't look so surprised, my dear, i know my husband's strengths and... and his weaknesses what wife doesn't?" tears brimmed in her eyes. "i know what this means for you too you've jeopardised your life, sharazad's, your future in iran, perhaps your company."
"not sharazad's. no, she's perfectly safe. her father, excellency bakravan, will keep her safe until she can get out. of course she's safe." he saw annoush's brown eyes and read behind her eyes and his soul twisted.
"i pray that with all my heart, tommy, and beg god to grant that wish." she dabbed her tears away. "i've never been so sad in all my life. i never knew i could be so sad sad to be running away, sad for that poor soldier dying in the snow, sad for all our families and friends who have to stay, sad because no one's safe in iran anymore. i'm so afraid most of our circle will be persecuted by the mullahs, we've always been what shall i say? too modern and... too progressive. no one's safe here anymore not even khomeini himself."
lochart heard himself say, "insha'allah," but he wasn't listening to her, suddenly petrified that he would never see sharazad again, never be able to get back into iran or her able to get out. "it will be normal again soon, travel permitted and everything okay. of course it will. in a few months, it's got to be. of course it will be normal soon."
"i hope so, tommy, for i love your sharazad and would hate not being able to see her and the little one."
"eh?" he gaped at her.
"oh, but of course you wouldn't know," she said, then brushed the last of her tears away. "it was too soon for you to know. sharazad told me she's sure she's carrying her firstborn."
"but... but, well she..." he stopped helplessly, aghast, at the same time ecstatic. "she can't be!"
"oh, she wasn't sure yet, tommy, but she felt she was. sometimes a woman can tell you feel so different, so very different and so wonderful, so fulfilled," she added, her voice now joyous.
lochart was trying to get his mind working, completely aware that it would be impossible for her to understand the turmoil she was creating in him. god in heaven, he thought, sharazad?
"there are still a few days to be certain," she was saying. "i think it's three or four. let me think. yes, including today, tuesday, four more days to be certain. that would make it the day after, after seeing her father," she said delicately. "you were to see him this holy day, friday, the sixteenth, by your counting, weren't you?"
"yes." lochart said. as if i could forget. "you knew about that?"
"of course." annoush was astonished by his question. "such an extraordinary request from you, and such an important decision would have to be known by all of us. oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if she is with child didn't you tell excellency bakravan you wanted children? i so hope she has been blessed by god for that will surely pass the days and nights happily for her until we can get her out. kuwait's not far. i'm only so sorry she didn't come with us that would have made everything perfect."
"kuwait?"
"yes, but we won't stop there we'll go on to london." again the torment showed. "i don't want to leave our home and friends and... i don't..."
behind her, lochart saw the door of the house open. valik and seladi came out, ali with them. he noticed the three of them wore sidearms now. must have had a cache of weapons here, he thought absently as ali saluted and hurried down the path toward the lake. bursting with glee the two children charged from the back of the shed into valik's arms. he swung the little girl into the air and set her down.
"yes, annoush?" he asked his wife.
"you wanted me and the children to be here exactly at this time."
"yes. please get setarem and lalal ready. we'll be leaving soon." at once the children ran off into the house. "captain, is the chopper ready?"
"yes. yes, it is."
valik glanced back at his wife. "please get ready, my dear."
she smiled and did not move. "i just have to fetch my coat. i'm ready to
leave." the rest of the officers were approaching now. several carried automatic rifles.
lochart tore his mind off sharazad and holy day and four days more and broke the silence. "what's the plan?"
valik said, "baghdad. we'll take off in a few minutes."
"i thought we were going to kuwait," annoush said.
"we've decided to go to baghdad. general seladi thinks it'll be safer than to head south." valik kept watching lochart. "i want to be airborne in ten minutes."
"i'd advise you to wait until two or three in the morning and th "
seladi interrupted coldly. "we could be trapped here. soldiers could ambush us there's an air base nearby, they could send out a patrol. you don't understand military matters. we leave for baghdad at once."
"kuwait's better and safer, but in both places the chopper'll be impounded without an iranian clearance," lochart said.
"perhaps, perhaps not," valik said calmly. "baksheesh and a few connections will make all the difference." you, interloper into my family, he thought benignly, you along with the gift of the 212 will be a sop to satisfy even the iraqis, for we certainly agree you have flown it illegally even the cleara
nce you obtained from tehran was illegal. the iraqis will understand and they won't harm us. most of them hate and fear khomeini and his version of islam. with you, the 212 and a little extra on the side, why should they give me trouble?"
he saw lochart watching him. "yes?"
"i think baghdad's a bad choice."
general seladi said curtly, "we will leave now."
lochart flushed at the rudeness. some of the others shifted nervously. "no doubt you'll leave when the aircraft is ready and the pilot ready. have you flown in these mountains?"
"no... no i haven't, but the 212 has the ceiling and baghdad's where we will go. now!"
"then i wish you luck. i still advise kuwait and waiting, but you do what you want, because i'm not flying you."
James Clavell - Whirlwind Page 45