there was an even bigger silence. seladi went red in the face. "you will prepare to leave. now."
lochart said to valik, "on the way to isfahan i told you i wouldn't be flying the last leg. i'm not flying you onward. ali can do that he's fully qualified."
"but you're as wanted as any of us now," valik said, astonished with his stupidity. "of course you will fly the last leg."
"no, no i won't. i'll backpack out of here of course you can't waste time
landing me somewhere. ali can fly you he's been based in this area and knows the radar. just leave me a rifle and i'll head for bandar delam. okay?"
the others stared from lochart to seladi and valik. waiting.
valik thought through this new problem. so did seladi. both men came to the same conclusion: insha'allah! lochart had chosen to stay and therefore lochart had chosen the consequences. "very well," valik said calmly. "all will fly us." he smiled and then because he respected lochart as a pilot, he added quickly, "as we're a very democratic people, i suggest we put it to a vote iraq or kuwait?"
"kuwait," annoush said at once, and the others echoed her before seladi could interrupt.
good, valik thought, i allowed myself to be overruled because seladi claimed to know the chief of police in baghdad and said that safe passage for me and my family and him would be no more than $20,000 in u.s. notes which would be immeasurably cheaper than kuwait how much the others will have to pay will be up to them; i hope they have money with them or the means to get enough quickly. "of course you agree, excellency uncle? kuwait. thank you, captain. perhaps you'll tell ali he'll be flying us he's down by the lake."
"sure. i'll just get my gear. you'll leave me a rifle?"
"of course."
lochart went to the shed and disappeared inside.
seladi said, "some of you get the chopper out and we'll be off." they went to obey him. lochart came out, put his flight bag and carry bag beside the door and walked down the path toward the lake. seladi watched him go, then impatiently walked over to the 212.
valik saw his wife watching him. "yes, annoush?"
"what's planned for captain lochart?" she asked softly though they could not be overheard.
"he's... you heard him. he refuses to fly us and wants to stay. he'll walk out."
"i know how your mind works, my dear. are you going to have him killed?" there was a nice smile on her face. "murdered?"
"murder would be the wrong word." his mouth smiled. "i'm sure you'd agree lochart represents a great danger now. he knows us all, all our names all our families will suffer when he's caught and tortured and sentenced. it's the will of god. he made the choice. seladi wanted it done anyway a military decision i said no, that he should fly us onward."
"to be a sacrifice in kuwait, or baghdad?"
"seladi gave orders to ali, i didn't. lochart's marked, poor man. it's tragic, but necessary. you agree, don't you?"
"no, my dear, i'm sorry but i don't. so if he's hurt, or touched here, there
will be many who live to regret it." annoush's smile did not change. "you as well, my dear."
his face flushed. behind him men had pulled the 212 into the open and now they were loading her. he dropped his voice. "didn't you hear me, annoush, he's a threat! he's not one of us, jared barely tolerates him and i promise you he's a great danger to us, to those we've left behind your family as well as mine."
"didn't you hear me, husband? i promise you i know only too well the dangers, but if he's killed here murdered you will be killed too."
"don't be ridiculous!"
"sometime you will sleep and you will not awaken. it will be the will of god." the smile never changed nor the gentleness of her voice.
valik hesitated, then his face closed and he hurried down the path. the children barreled out of the house toward her and she said kindly, "wait here, my darlings, i'll be back in a moment."
esplanaded over the lake on stilts was an open-sided barbecue area and bar under a neat overhang, with a few steps that went down into the water for skiers, or for the motorboat that was tied up in its shelter nearby.
lochart was on the water's edge, his hands up.
ali had the automatic levered. his orders from seladi had been clear: go to the lake and wait. we will either call you back or send the pilot to find you. if the pilot comes looking for you, kill him and return at once.
he had hated the order bombarding or attacking revolutionaries or mutineers from a chopper gunship was not murder as this was murder. his face was ashen, he had never killed before and he asked god's pardon, but an order was an order. "sorry," he said, hardly able to talk and began to pull the trigger.
at that instant lochart's legs seemed to collapse and he twisted over the side into the water. automatically, ali followed the movement, aimed for the center of the back as though at target practice, knowing he could never miss at this range. fire!
"stop!"
the fraction of a second he had hesitated was enough time for his brain to hear the order and obey it thankfully. with shuddering relief, he felt his finger release the pressure on the trigger. valik rushed up to him and both of them peered into the water, murky here in the shade and quite deep. they waited. lochart did not appear.
"perhaps he's under the floor or under the raft," ali said, wiping the sweat off his face and hands, and thanking god that the pilot's blood was not on his soul.
"yes." valik was also sweating, but mostly with fear. he had never seen that look on his wife's face before, the smile that promised a death in the night.
it's her vile ancestors, he thought. she's qajar, her lineage qajars who could happily blind or murder rivals to the throne or children of rivals didn't only one qajar shah in their 146-year dynasty relinquish his throne through natural death? valik looked around, saw her standing up at the head of the path, then turned back to ali. "give me your gun."
shakily valik put the gun down on the rough wooden planking, and called out: "lochart, i've left you a gun. this was all a mistake. the captain was mistaken."
"but, general "
"go up to the chopper," valik ordered loudly. "seladi's a fool he should never have given you orders to kill this poor man. we leave at once and we go to kuwait not baghdad. ali, go and start the aircraft!"
ali left. as he passed annoush he eyed her curiously, then hurried onward. she walked down and joined valik.
"you saw?" he asked.
"yes."
they waited. no sound here, no tide to lap the pilings. it was beautiful and calm, the surface of the lake glassy and windless. "i... i pray he's hiding somewhere," she said, a great void in her soul, but now time to heal the breach. "i'm glad his blood's not on our hands. seladi's a monster."
"we'd better go back." they were quite hidden from the chopper and the house. he took out his automatic and fired it once into the ground nearby. "for seladi. i, er, think i hit lochart when... when he surfaced. eh?"
she took his arm. "you're a wise and good man." they walked back up the rise, arm in arm. "without you, your cleverness and courage, we would never have escaped isfahan. but exile? wh "
"temporary exile," he said jovially, filled with relief that the vile moment between them had passed. "then we'll come home again."
"that would be wonderful," she said, forcing herself to believe it. i've got to or i'll go mad. i've got to for the children! "i'm glad you chose kuwait i never liked baghdad, and those iraqis, ugh!" her eyes still had shadows in them. "what lochart said about waiting till after dark was wrong?"
"there's an air base within a few miles. we could have been seen on radar, annoush, or by spotters in the hills. seladi's right in that the base will send a patrol after us." they topped the rise. the children were waiting for them in the cabin doorway, everyone else aboard. they quickened their pace. "kuwait's much safer. i'd already decided to overrule that pompous fool seladi he's never to be trusted."
in minutes they were airborne, heading northward over the rim of thes
e hills, skirting the crags, hugging the ground to avoid the nearby danger from the air
base. ali abassi was a good pilot and knew the area well. once over the rim and down into the valley he turned west and scurried through a pass to avoid the outer perimeter of the airfield, the iraqi border some fifty miles farther ahead. snow covered the heights of the mountains far above them and parts of the slopes, though the floor of some valleys were green, here and there, among the rocky wilderness. they thundered over an unexpected and unknown village, then curled almost due south, again following the water course, paralleling the border that was far to their right. the whole flight would take barely two hours, depending on the winds, and the winds were favorable.
those in the cabin near the windows happily watched the land rushing past, the two children given the best positions, the major holding jalal, valik, his daughter beside annoush. everyone was content, a few praying silently. sunset was not far off and would be good, red-tinged clouds "red sky at night, shepherds' delight," annoush crooned to setarem in english and, up front, the engines sounded good with all needles in the green.
ali was glad to be flying, glad that he had not killed lochart who had stood there in front of him, saying nothing, not begging for his life or saying prayers, just standing there with his hands up, waiting. i'm sure he's safe under the pilings, thanks be to god..
he took a quick glance at the map, refreshing his memory. but he did not really need to, he had spent many good years here, flying the passes. soon he would come down out of the mountains into the marsh plains of the tigris and euphrates, staying at ground level, skirting dezful, then ahwaz and khorramshahr, then stab across the shatt-al-arab estuary and the border, into kuwait and freedom.
ahead was the ridge with the dominating peak that he had been expecting and he swung upward out of the valley to swoop down into the next, the joy of flying possessing him. then
"hbc, climb to a thousand feet and reduce speed!" filled his headphones and brain. he had been airborne barely six minutes.
the order had been in farsi and it was repeated in english and then in farsi and again in english, and all the while he kept her low, desperately trying to get his head working.
"chopper hbc, you're illegal, climb out of the valley and reduce speed."
ali abbasi peered upward, searching the sky, but he saw no airplane. the valley floor was tearing past. ahead was another rim and then there'd be a succession of rims and valleys that led down to the plains. westward the iraqi border was forty-odd miles away twenty minutes.
"chopper hbc, for the last time, you're illegal, climb out of the valley and reduce speed!"
his brain shouted, you've three choices: obey and die, try to escape, or put down and wait the night and try at first light if you survive their rockets or bullets.
ahead of him to the left he saw trees and the land falling away, the sides of the valley steepening into a ravine, so he cast himself into it, committing them to escape. now his mind was working well. he pulled off his headset, put himself into the hands of god, and felt the better for it. he slowed as he came nearer the end of the ravine, skirted some trees and ducked into another small valley, reduced speed even more, following the streambed cautiously. more trees and outcrops and he sneaked around them.
stay low and slow and save gas and ease your way south, he thought with growing confidence. go nearer the border when you can take your time. they'll never catch you if you use your wits. it'll be dark soon you can lose them in the dark and you know enough about instrument flying to get to kuwait. but how did they spot us? it was almost as though they were waiting. could they have had us on radar going into dez dam watch itttttt!
the trees were heavier here and he stewed around a scattering of them on the mountainside, went closer to the rocks, and climbed for the ridge and the next valley. over it safely and down into the protection of the rocks, eyes searching ahead and above and always for a good spot to put down if an engine failed. he was concentrating and confident and doing his job well. all the instruments were in the safety range. minutes passed and though he searched the sky diligently he saw nothing. at the head of the next valley he put the chopper into a 360 and carefully scanned the sky. nothing overhead.
safe! lost him! insha'allah! he took a deep breath and, very satisfied, turned southward again. over the next ridge. and the next and there ahead were the plains. the two fighters were waiting. they were f14s.
at tehran airport s-g's office: 5:48 p.m. "... you are not permitted to land!" came over the hf, heavily mixed with static gavallan, mciver, and robert armstrong grouped around it, listening intently, the vista through the windows dull and brooding, night near.
the breezy voice of john hogg from the incoming 125 came back again: "tehran control, this is echo tango lima lima, as per yesterday, we have clearance from kish to land an "
"etll, you are not permitted to land!" the traffic controller's voice was raw and frightened and mclver cursed under his breath. "i say again: negative, all civilian air traffic is grounded and all incoming flights canceled until further orders of the imam..." behind his voice they could hear other voices chattering in farsi, a number of mikes open on this frequency. "return to your point of departure!"
"i say again, we have clearance to land from kish radar who passed us to isfahan air traffic controller who confirmed our clearance. long live ayatollah khomeini and the victory of islam i am forty miles south of checkpoint
varamin, expecting runway 29 left. please confirm your ils is functioning. do you have other traffic in your system?"
for a moment farsi voices dominated the tower, then, "negative traffic, etll, negative ils but you are not per " the american english stopped abruptly and an angry, heavily accented voice took over: "not landings! komiteh give orders tehran! kish not tehran isfahan not tehran we give orders tehran. if landings you arrested."
john hogg's happy voice replied at once. "echotangolimalima. understand you don't want us to land, tehran tower, and wish to reject our clearances which i believe is an error according to air traffic regulations standby one please." then at once on their private s-g frequency, mixed with static, came his terse voice, "hq advise!"
immediately mclver switched channels and said into the mike, "three sixty, standby one," meaning circle and wait for a reply. he glanced up at gavallan who was grim-faced. robert armstrong was whistling tonelessly. "we better wave him off if he lands they could throw the book at him and impound her," mclver said.
"with official clearances?" gavallan said. "you told the tower we've the british ambassador's letter approved by bazargan's office "
"but not by bazargan himself, sir," robert armstrong said, "and even then for all practical purposes those buggers in the tower are the law in the tower for the moment. i'd suggest th " he stopped and pointed, his face even grimmer. "look there!" two trucks and a radio control car, with its tall aerial waving, were racing along the boundary road. as they watched, the trucks drove directly onto runway 29 left, parked in the middle of it. armed green bands jumped out taking up defensive positions. the control car continued to head their way.
"shit!" mclver muttered.
"mae, do you think they'll be monitoring our frequency?"
"safer to assume so, andy."
gavallan took the mike. "abort. b repeat b."
"echotangolimalima!" then, on the tower frequency, kind and friendly: "tehran tower: we agree your request to cancel our clearance and formally apply for clearance to land at tomorrow noon to deliver urgent repeat urgent spares required by iranoil, outgoing crew for overdue leave, with immediate turnaround."
mclver grunted. "johnny always was fast on his feet." then to armstrong, "we'll put y "
"standby one, echotangolimalima," from the tower overrode him.
"we'll put you on her passenger list when we can, mr. armstrong. sorry, no joy today. what about your papers'?"
armstrong took his eyes off the approaching car. "i, er, i'd prefer to be a special
ist consultant for s-g, going on leave, if you don't mind. unpaid, of course." he stared back at gavallan. "what's 'b repeat b'?"
"try again tomorrow, same time."
"and if they grant etll's request?"
"then it's tomorrow you'll be a specialist consultant."
"thanks. let's hope it's tomorrow." armstrong looked at the approaching car, and added quickly, "will you be in about ten tonight, mr. gavallan? perhaps i could drop by just to chat, nothing important."
"certainly. i'll expect you. we've met before, haven't we?"
"yes. if i'm not there by ten-fifteen i've been delayed and can't come you know how it is and i'll check in the morning." armstrong began to leave. "thanks."
"all right. where did we meet?"
James Clavell - Whirlwind Page 46