"hong kong." robert armstrong nodded politely and walked out, tall and gaunt. they saw him go through the office and take the door that led to the hangar and the back door to the s-g parking lot where he had left his nondescript car mciver's car was parked in front.
"almost as though he's been here before," mciver said thoughtfully.
"hong kong? don't remember him at all. do you?"
"no." mciver frowned. "i'll ask gen, she has a good memory for names."
"i'm not sure i like or trust robert bloody armstrong, whatever talbot says."
at noon they had gone to see talbot to find out the who and the why of armstrong. all george talbot would say was, "oh, he's rather decent really, and we'd, er, we'd appreciate your giving him a lift, and er, not asking too many questions. you'll stay for lunch, of course? we've still some rather good dover sole, fresh frozen, plenty of caviar or smoked salmon if you wish, a couple of la doucette '76 on ice or bangers and mash with the house claret which i'd highly recommend if you prefer. chocolate pudding or sherry trifle, and we've still half of a fairly decent stilton. the whole world may be on fire, but at least we can watch it burn like gentlemen. how about a pink gin before lunch?"
lunch had been very good. talbot had said that bakhtiar's leaving the field for bazargan and khomeini might avert most trouble. "now that there's no chance of a coup, things should get back to normal, eventually."
"when do you think's 'eventually'?"
"when 'they,' whoever 'they' are, run out of ammunition. but, my dear old boy, whatever i think really doesn't matter. it's what khomeini thinks that matters, and only god knows what khomeini thinks."
gavallan remembered the shrill cackle of laughter that talbot had let out at his own joke and smiled.
"what?" mciver asked.
"i was just remembering talbot at lunch."
the car was still a hundred yards away. "talbot's hiding a mountain of secrets. what do you think armstrong wants to 'chat' about?"
"probably to divert us some more after all, mac, we did go to the embassy to enquire about him. curious! usually i don't forget... hong kong? seem to associate him with the races at happy valley. it'll come back to me. i'll say one thing for him, he's punctual. i told him five o'clock and he was here even though he seemed to come out of the woodwork." gavallan's eyes twinkled under his heavy eyebrows, then went back to the incoming car that was drawing up outside. "sure as god made scotland he didn't want to meet our friendly komiteh. i wonder why?"
the komiteh consisted of two armed youths, a mullah not the same as yesterday and sabolir, the perspiring senior immigration official, still very nervous.
"good evening, excellencies," mciver said, his nostrils rebelling against their invading smell of stale sweat. "would you care for tea?"
"no, no, thank you," sabolir said. he was still very much on his guard, though he tried to hide it under a mask of arrogance. he sat down in the best chair. "we have new regulations for you."
"oh?" mciver had had dealings with him over a couple of years, and had provided an occasional case of whisky, fi11-ups of gasoline, and, from time to time, free air travel and accommodation for him and his family on several summer vacations to caspian resorts: "we booked rooms for some of our executives and they can't use the space, dear mr. sabolir. it's a pity to waste the space, isn't it?" once he had arranged a week's trip for two to dubai. the girl had been young and very beautiful, and at sabolir's blunt suggestion was put on the s-g books as an iranian expert. "what can we do for you?"
to their surprise sabolir took out gavallan's passport and the previous clearance paper and put them on the desk: "here are your passport and papers, er, approved," he said, his voice automatically oily with officialdom. "the imam has ordered normal operations to begin at once. the, er, the islamic state of iran is back to normal and the airport will reopen in, er, three days, for normal, preagreed traffic. you are to come back to normal now."
"we begin training the iranian air force again?" mciver asked, hard put to keep the glee out of his voice, for this was a very big contract and very profitable.
sabolir hesitated. "yes, i presume y "
"no," the mullah said firmly in good english. "no not until the imam or the revolutionary komiteh agrees. i will see that you have a firm answer. i
do not think this part of your operation will begin yet. meanwhile your normal business spares to your bases and their contract flights to assist iranoil resume oil production, or iran-timber and so on provided the flights are approved in advance, may begin the day after tomorrow."
"excellent," gavallan said, and mclver echoed him.
"replacement flight crews and oil rig crews, in and out if approved in advance and provided their papers are in order," the mullah continued, "will resume the day after tomorrow. oil production is to be a priority. an islamic guard will accompany every internal flight."
"if requested in advance, and the man is on time for the flight. but not armed," mclver said politely, preparing for the inevitable clash.
"armed islamic guards will be carried for your protection to prevent hijacking by enemies of the state!" the mullah said sharply.
"we will be very pleased to cooperate, excellency," gavallan interrupted calmly, "very pleased indeed, but i'm sure you won't wish to endanger life or jeopardize the islamic state. i formally ask you to ask the imam to agree to no guns whatever clearly you have immediate access to his presence. meanwhile all our aircraft are grounded until i have clearance, or clearance from my government."
"you will not ground flights and you will become normal!" the mullah was very angry.
"perhaps a compromise pending the imam's agreement: your guards have their guns but the captain holds the ammunition during the flight. agreed?"
the mullah hesitated.
gavallan hardened. "the imam ordered all weapons handed in, didn't he?"
"yes. very well, i agree."
"thank you. mac, prepare the paper for his excellency to sign and that takes care of it for all our lads. now, we'll need new flight papers, excellency, the only ones we've got are the older, useless ones from the previous regime. will you give us the necessary authority? you yourself, excellency? clearly you are a man of importance and you know what's going on." he watched as the mullah seemed to grow in stature with the flattery. the man was in his thirties, his beard was greasy and his clothes threadbare. from his accent gavallan had pegged him an ex-british student, one of the thousands of iranians that the shah had sent abroad on grants for western education. "you will of course give us new papers at once, to make us legal with the new era?"
"we, er, we will sign new documents for each of our aircraft, yes." the mullah took some papers from his battered briefcase and put on a pair of old glasses, the lenses thick and one of them cracked. the paper he sought was
at the bottom. "you have in your trust thirteen iranian 212s, seven 206s, and four alouettes in various places, all iranian registry and owned by iran helicopter company that's correct?"
gavallan shook his head. "not exactly. at the moment they're still actually owned by s-g helicopters of aberdeen. iran helicopter company, our joint venture with our iranian partners, doesn't own the aircraft until they're paid for."
the mullah frowned, then brought the paper closer to his eyes. "but the contract giving ownership to iran helicopter, which is an iranian company, is signed, isn't it?"
"yes, but it's subject to payments which are... are in arrears."
"the imam has said all debts will be paid so they will be paid."
"of course, but meanwhile ownership passes on actual payment," gavallan continued carefully, while hoping against hope the tower would grant johnny hogg's clever request for a landing tomorrow. i wonder if this mealymouthed bugger could order a clearance? he asked himself. if khomeini's ordered everything back to normal, it'll go back to normal and i can safely return to london. with any luck i could close the extex contract that covers the new x63s' lease payments by the weekend.
"for months we've been making payments on behalf of ihc on all these aircraft, with interest, banking charges and so on out of our own funds and w "
"islam forbids usury and the paying of interest," the mullah said with a total finality that rocked gavallan and mciver. "banks may not charge interest. none. it is usury."
gavallan glanced at mciver, then uneasily turned his full attention to the mullah. "if banks cannot charge interest, how will business operate internally and externally?"
"according to islamic law. only islamic law. the koran forbids usury." the mullah added distastefully, "what foreign banks do is evil it's because of them iran had many troubles. banks are evil institutions and will not be tolerated. as to iran helicopter company, the islamic revolutionary komiteh has ordered all joint ventures suspended, pending review." the mullah waved the papers. "all these aircraft are iranian, iranian registry, iranian!" again he peered at the paper. "here in tehran you have three 212s, four 206s, and one 47g4 here at the airport, haven't you?"
"they're spread around," mciver told him carefully, "here, doshan tappeh and galeg morghi."
"but they're all here, in tehran?"
mciver had been gauging him while gavallan had been talking, also trying to read upside down what the papers contained. the one in the mullah's hand listed all their airplanes with their registration numbers and was a copy of the
manifest that was kept permanently in the tower, that s-g was obliged to keep permanently up to date. his stomach twisted nastily when he glimpsed ephbc ringed in red lochart's 212 also ep-hfc, pettikin's 206.
"we've one 212 on loan to bandar delam," he said, deciding to play it safe, inwardly cursing valik and hoping that tom lochart was either at bandar delam or safely on the way home. "the resttre here."
"on loan that would be ep ep-hbc?" the mullah said, very pleased with himself. "now, wh " the traffic controller's voice interrupted him: "echotangolimalima, request refused. call isfahan on 118.3 good day."
"quite right good." the mullah nodded, satisfied.
gavallan and mciver cursed inwardly even more, and sabolir, who had been silently watching and listening to the byplay, understanding very clearly how the two men were trying to manipulate the mullah, chortled to himself, carefully avoiding anyone's eyes, staring at the floor for safety. once, a moment ago, when the mullah's attention was elsewhere, he had deftly caught mciver's eye and half smiled at him, encouragingly, pretending friendship, petrified mciver would misconstrue all those previous favors which were only repayment for his smoothing the way of inbound spares and outbound crews. on the radio this morning, a spokesman for the
"islamic revolutionary komiteh" had urged all loyal citizens to denounce anyone who had committed crimes "against islam." during today three of his colleagues had been arrested which had sent a shudder of horror through the whole airport. islamic guards gave no specific reasons, just dragged the men away and put them into evin jail the loathed savak prison where, it was rumored, half a hundred "enemies of islam" had been shot today after summary trials. one of those arrested was one of his own men who had accepted the 10,000 rials and the three 5-gallon cans of gasoline from mciver's storeroom yesterday the man had kept one, and the other two he himself had correctly taken home last night as was his due. oh, god, let them not search my house.
over the hf was johnny hogg, his voice still breezy: "echotangolimalima, thank you. up the revolution and good day." then on their own channel, tersely: "hq confirm."
mciver reached over and switched to their channel. "standby one!" he ordered, deeply conscious of the mullah. "do you thi "
"ah. you talk direct with the aircraft a private channel?"
"company channel, excellency. it's normal practice."
"normal. yes. so ep-hbc is at bandar delam?" the mullah said and read from the paper: "'delivering spares.' is that right?"
"yes," mciver said, praying.
"when is this aircraft due to return?"
mciver could feel the weight of the mullah's attention on him. "i don't know.
i haven't been able to raise bandar delam. as soon as i can, i'll tell you. now, excellency, about clearances for our various flights, do you th "
"ep-hfc. ep-hfc is in tabriz?"
"she's at the small forsha airstrip," mciver said, not feeling very good at all, praying that the madness at the qazvin roadblock had gone unreported and would be forgotten. again he wondered where erikki was he was supposed to have met them at the apartment at three o'clock to come out to the airport but had never appeared.
"forsha airstrip?"
he saw the mullah staring at him and concentrated with an effort. "ep- hfc went to tabriz on saturday to deliver spares and pick up a crew change. she returned last night. she'll be on the new manifest tomorrow."
the mullah was suddenly grim. "but any incoming or outgoing aircraft must be instantly reported. we have no record of any inward clearance yesterday."
"captain pettikin couldn't raise tehran atc yesterday. the military were in charge, i believe. he tried calling all the way inbound." mciver added quickly, "if we're to resume operations, who will authorize our iranoil flights? mr. darius as usual?"
"er, yes, i would think so. but why wasn't its arrival reported today?"
gavallan said with a forced brightness, "i'm very impressed with your efficiency, excellency. it's a pity the military air traffic controllers on duty yesterday don't share it. i can see the new islamic republic will far surpass any western operation. it will be a pleasure to serve our new employers. up the new! may we know your name?"
"i, i'm mohammed tehrani," the man said, diverted again.
"then excellency tehrani, may i ask that you give us the benefit of your authority? if my echo tango lima lima could have your permission to land tomorrow, we could immeasurably improve our efficiency to parallel your own. i can then make sure our company gives the ayatollah khomeini and his personal assistants like yourself the service he and they have a right to expect. the spares etll will carry will put back two more 212s into operation and i can return to london to increase our support for the great revolution. of course, you agree?"
"it's not possible. the komiteh w "
"i'm sure the komiteh would take your advice. oh, i noticed you've had the misfortune to break your glasses. terrible. i can hardly see without mine. perhaps i could have the 125 bring a new pair for your tomorrow from al shargaz?"
the mullah was unsettled. his eyes were very bad. the wish for new glasses, good glasses, almost overpowered him. oh, it would be an unbelievable treasure, a gift from god. surely god has put this thought into the foreigner's
head. "i don't think... i don't know. the komiteh couldn't do what you ask so quickly."
"i know it's difficult, but if you'd intercede for us with your komiteh, surely they'd listen. it would help us immeasurably and we'd be in your debt," gavallan added, using the time-honored phrase that in any language meant, what do you want in exchange? he saw mclver switch to the tower frequency, offer the mike. "you press the button to talk, excellency, if you would honor us with your assistance..."
the mullah tehrani hesitated, not knowing what to do. as he looked at the mike, mciver glanced at sabolir, pointedly.
sabolir understood at once, his reflexes perfect. "of course whatever you decide, excellency tehrani, your komiteh will agree," he said, his voice unctuous. "but tomorrow, tomorrow i understand you are ordered to visit the other airfields, to make sure where and how many civilian helicopters are in your area which is all tehran? yes?"
"those are orders, yes," the mullah agreed. "i and some members of my komiteh have to visit the other airfields tomorrow."
sabolir sighed heavily, pretending disappointment, and mciver had difficulty not laughing so overplayed was the performance. "unfortunately it would not be possible for you to visit them all by car or foot and still be back to supervise, personally, the arrival and immediate turnaround of this single aircraft that has, through no fault of its own, been tu
rned away because of arrogant traffic controllers in kish and isfahan who dared not to consult you first."
"true, true," the mullah agreed. "they were at fault!"
"would 7:00 a.m. suit you, excellency tehrani?" mciver said at once. "we'd be glad to help our airport komiteh. i'll give you my best pilot and you'll be back in plenty of time toer, to supervise the turnaround. how many men would come with you?"
"six..." the mullah said absently, overwhelmed with the idea of being able to complete his orders god's work so conveniently and luxuriously, like a veritable ayatollah. "this... this could be done?"
"of course!" mciver said. "at 7:00 a.m. here. captain, er, chief captain nathaniel lane will have a 212 ready. seven including yourself, and up to seven wives. you of course would fly in the cockpit with the pilot. consider it arranged."
the mullah had only flown twice in his life to england and university and home again, packed into a special, student-charter iran air flight. he beamed and reached for the mike: "at 7:00 a.m."
James Clavell - Whirlwind Page 47