James Clavell - Whirlwind

by Whirlwind(Lit)

  "thanks, but i'm perfectly capable," mciver said crisply, then into the mike, "htx closing down." he saw lochart's face and sighed again. "so i'm slightly out of whack, tom. so?"

  "it's not that, mac," lochart said in a rush, "duke's been shot." mciver listened appalled as lochart told him what had happened. "he's in the infirmary now. doc nutt says his lung may be punctured."

  "christ almighty! then put him aboard the 125, go on johnny, get g "

  "he can't, mac," lochart overrode him with the same urgency: "hotshot's held up her departure till after kia's inspection yesterday old duke tried every which way to get her in and out before you arrived but hotshot's a sonofabitch. and that's not all, i think tehran's rumbled us."

  "what?"

  lochart told him about the telexes and the hf calls. "siamaki's been bending hotshot's ear, getting him worked up. i took siamaki's last call duke had gone to the mullah's and he was mad as a sonofabitch. i told him the same as duke and stuffed him off saying you'd call when you got in, but jesus, mac, he knows you and charlie've cleaned out your apartment."

  "all baba! he must've been a plant." mciver's head was reeling. then he noticed the little gold st. christopher that habitually he hung around the magnetic compass when flying. it was a present from genny, a first present, a war present, just after they'd met, he in the raf, she a waaf: "just so you don't get lost, me lad," she had said. "you don't have much of a nose for north."

  he smiled now and blessed her. "first i'll see duke." he could see esvandiary and kia wandering down the line of choppers. "tom, you and jean-luc see if you can chilly kia along, butter the bugger up, flatter the balls off him i'll join you as quick as i can." they went off at once. "freddy, you spread the word that the moment we get the okay for the 125 to leave, everyone's to board fast and quietly. is all the baggage aboard?"

  "yes, but what about siamaki?"

  "i'll worry about that bugger, off you go." mciver hurried away.

  johnny hogg called out after him, "mae, a word in your ear as soon as

  pose."

  the underlying urgency stopped him. "what johnny?"

  "urgent and private from andy: if this weather worsens he may postpone whirlwind from tomorrow till saturday. the wind's changed. it'll be a headwind now instead of a tail "

  "you saying i don't know southeast from northwest?"

  "sorry. andy also said, as you're here he can't give you the overriding yes or no he promised."

  "that's right. ask him to give it to charlie. what else?"

  "the rest can wait. i haven't told the others."

  doc nutt was in the infirmary with starke. starke lay on a cot, arm in a sling, his shoulder heavily bandaged. "hello, mac, you have a good flight?" he said witheringly.

  "don't you start! hi, doc! duke, we'll get you out on the 125."

  "no. there's tomorrow."

  "tomorrow'll take care of tomorrow and meanwhile you're on the 124 125! for christ's sake," mciver said irritably, his relief at having made the flight safely and at seeing starke alive peeled away his control, "don't act like you're deadeye dick at the alamo!"

  "he wasn't at the goddamn alamo," starke slammed back angrily, "and who the hell're you to act like chuck yeager?"

  doc nutt said mildly, "if you both don't slow down, i'll order the two of you bloody enemas."

  abruptly both men laughed and starke gasped as pain rocked him. "for crissake, doc, don't make me laugh..." and mciver said, "duke, kia insisted i accompany him. i couldn't tell him to push off."

  "sure." starke grunted. "how was it?"

  "grand."

  "what about the wind?"

  "it's not a plus for tomorrow," mciver said carefully. "it can change back again just as quickly."

  "if it stays this way it's a thirty-knot headwind or worse and we can't make it across the gulf. there's no way we can carry enough fu "

  "yes. doc, what's the poop?"

  "duke should be x-rayed as soon as possible. shoulder blade's shattered and there's some tendon and muscle damage, wound's clean. there might be a splinter or two in the left lung, he's lost a pint or so, but all in all he's been very bloody lucky."

  "i feel okay, doc, i'm mobile," starke said. "one day won't make that amount of difference. i can still go along tomorrow."

  "sorry, old top, but you're shook. bullets do that. you may not feel it now but in an hour or two you will, guaranteed." doc nutt was very glad he was leaving with the 125 today. don't want to cope anymore, he told himself. don't want to see any more fine young bodies bullet- torn and mutilated. i've had it. yes, but i'll have to stick to it for a few more days, there're going to be others to patch up because whirlwind's just not going to work. it's not,

  feel it in my bones. "sorry, but you'd be a hazard on any op. even a little one."

  "duke," mciver said, "it's best you go at once. tom, you take one no need for jean-luc to stay."

  "and what the hell you figure on doing?"

  mciver beamed. "me, i'll be a passenger. meanwhile, i'm just bloody kia's very private bloody pilot."

  in the tower: 4:50 p.m. "i repeat, mr. siamaki," mciver said tightly into the mike, "there's a special conference in al sh "

  "and i repeat, why wasn't i informed at once?" the voice over the loudspeaker was shrill and irritated.

  mciver's knuckles were white from the grip on the mike's stem, and he was being watched intently by a green band and wazari whose face was still swollen from the beating zataki had given him. "i repeat, agha siamaki," he said, his voice tidy, "captains pettikin and lane were needed for an urgent conference in al shargaz and there was no time to inform you."

  "why? i'm here in tehran. why wasn't the office informed, where are their exit permits? where?"

  mciver pretended to be slightly exasperated. "i already told you, agha, there was no time phones in tehran aren't working and i cleared their exits with the komiteh at the airport, personally with his excellency the mullah in charge." the green band yawned, bored, non-english- speaking, and noisily cleared his throat. "now if you'll excu "

  "but you and captain pettikin have removed your valuables from your apartment. is that so?"

  "merely a precaution to remove temptation from vile mujhadin and fedayeen burglars and bandits while we're away," mciver said airily, very conscious of wazari's attention and sure that the tower at the air base was monitoring this conversation. "now if you'll excuse me, minister kia requires my presence!"

  "ah, minister kia, ah, yes!" siamaki's irritability softened a little. "what, er, what time do you both arrive back in tehran tomorrow?"

  "depending on the winds..." mciver's eyes almost crossed as he had a sudden, almost overwhelming, desire to blurt out about whirlwind. i must be going potty, he thought. with an effort he concentrated. "depending on minister kia, the winds, and refueling, sometime in the afternoon."

  "i will be waiting for you; i may even meet you at the airport if we know your eta; there are checks to be signed and many rearrangements to be discussed. please give minister kia my best wishes and wish him a pleasant stay in kowiss. salaam." the transmission clicked off. mciver sighed, put the mike

  down. "sergeant, while i'm here i'd like to call bandar delam and lengeh."

  "i'll have to ask base," wazari said.

  "go ahead." mciver looked out the window. the weather was deteriorating, the southeaster crackling the wind sock and the stays of the radio mast. thirty knots, gusting to thirty-five on the counter. too much, he thought. the upended mud tank that had crashed through the roof was only a few yards away. he could see hogg and jones patiently waiting in the 125 cockpit, the cabin door invitingly open. through the other window he saw kia and esvandiary had finished their inspection and were heading this way, toward the offices directly below. idly he saw that a connector on the main roof aerial was loose, then noticed the wire almost free. "sergeant, you'd better fix that right smartly, you could lose all transmission."

  "jesus, sure, thanks." wazari got up, sto
pped. over the loudspeaker came: "this is kowiss tower. request to call bandar delam and lengeh approved." he acknowledged, switched frequencies, and made the call.

  "this's bandar delam, go ahead kowiss." mciver's heart picked up, recognizing rudi lutz's voice.

  wazari handed the mike to mciver, his eyes outside on the faulty connection. "sonofabitch," he muttered, picked up some tools, opened the door onto the roof, and went out. he was still within easy hearing distance. the green band yawned, watching disinterestedly.

  "hello, captain lutz, mciver. i'm overnighting here," mciver said matter of-factly, choosing the words very carefully. "had to escort a vip, minister kia, from tehran. how're things at bandar delam?"

  "we're five by five but if..." the voice stopped. mciver had heard the inrush of breath and concern, quickly bottled. he glanced at wazari who was squatting beside the connector. "how long... how long're you staying, mac?" rudi asked.

  "i'll be enroute tomorrow as planned. providing the weather holds," he added carefully.

  "understand. no sweat."

  "no sweat. all systems go for a long and happy year. how about you?"

  another pause. "everything five by five. all systems go for a long and happy year and vive the imarn!"

  "quite right. reason for the call is that hq aberdeen urgently wants information about your 'updated impress file.'" this was code for whirlwind's preparations. "is it ready?"

  "yes, yes, it is. where should i send it?" code for: do we still head for al shargaz?

  "gavallan's in al shargaz on an inspection trip so send it there it's important you make a special effort and get it there quickly. i heard in tehran

  there was a ba flight going into abadan tomorrow. get it on that flight for al shargaz tomorrow, all right?"

  "loud and clear. i've been working on the details all day."

  "excellent. how's your crew change situation?"

  "great. outgoing crew've gone, incoming replacements due saturday, sunday at the latest. everything's prepared for their arrival. i'll be on the next crew change."

  "good, i'm here if you want me. how's your weather?"

  a pause. "stormy. it's raining now. we've a southeaster."

  "same here. no sweat."

  "by the way, siamaki called numir, our iranoil manager, a couple of times."

  "what about?" mciver said.

  "just checking on the base, numir said."

  "good," mciver said carefully. "glad he's interested in our operations. i'll call tomorrow, everything's routine. happy landings."

  "you too, thanks for calling."

  mciver signed off cursing siamaki. nosy bloody bastard! he looked outside. wazari still had his back to him, kneeling beside the base of the aerial, near the skylight of the office below, totally concentrated, so he left him to it and made the call to lengeh.

  scragger was quickly on the other end. "hello, sport. yes, we heard you were on the routine side trip escorting a vip andy called from al shargaz. what's the poop?"

  "routine. everything's as planned. hq aberdeen needs information of your 'updated impress file.' is it ready?"

  "ready as she'll ever be. where should i send it?"

  "al shargaz, that's easiest for you. can you get it over tomorrow?"

  "gotcha, old sport, i'll plan on it. how's your weather?"

  "southeasterly, thirty to thirty-five knots. johnny said it might lighten tomorrow. you?"

  "about the same. let's hope she dies down. no problem for us."

  "good. i'll call tomorrow. happy landings."

  "same to you. by the way, how's lulu?"

  mciver cursed under his breath, because in the excitement of the change of plan, having to escort kia, he had totally forgotten his pledge to his car to save her from a fate worse than. he had just left her in one of the hangars as a further indication to the staff there he was returning tomorrow. "she's fine," he said. "how's your medical?"

  "fine. how's yours, old sport?"

  "see you soon, scrag." wryly mciver clicked off the sender. now he was very tired. he stretched and got up, noticed that the green band had gone and

  wazari was standing at the doorway from the roof, his face strange. "what's the matter?"

  "i... nothing, captain." the young man closed the door, chilled, was startled to see the tower empty but for the two of them. "where's the green band?"

  "i don't know." quickly wazari checked the stairwell, then turned on him and dropped his voice: "what's going on, captain?"

  mciver's fatigue left him. "i don't understand."

  "all those calls from siamaki, telexes, guys leaving tehran without permits, all the guys leaving here, spares going out, sneaked out." he jerked a thumb at the skylight. "minister arriving all of a sudden."

  "crews need replacements, spares become redundant. thanks for your help." mciver began to walk around him but wazari stood in his way.

  "something's mighty goddamn crazy! you can't tell me th " he stopped, footsteps approaching from downstairs. "listen, captain," he whispered urgently, "i'm on your side, i've a deal with your captain ayre, he's gonna help me..."

  the green band came stomping up the stairs into the room, said something in farsi to wazari, whose eyes widened.

  "what did he say?" mciver asked.

  "esvandiary wants you below." wazari smiled sardonically, then went back out onto the roof again and squatted beside the connector, fiddling with it.

  in esvandiary's office: 5:40 p.m. tom lochart was frozen with rage, and so was mciver. "but our exit permits are valid and we've clearance to send personnel out today, right now!"

  "with minister kia's approval the permits're held up until the replacements arrive," esvandiary said curtly. he sat behind the desk, kia beside him, lochart and mciver standing in front of him. on the desk was the pile of permits and passports. it was nearing sunset now. "agha siamaki agrees too."

  "quite correct." kia was amused and pleased at their discomfiture. damned foreigners. "no need for all this urgency, captain. much better to do things in an orderly fashion, much better."

  "the flight is orderly, minister kia," mciver said tight-lipped. "we've the permits. i insist the plane leaves as planned!"

  "this is iran, not england." esvandiary sneered. "even there i doubt if you could insist on anything." he was very pleased with himself. minister kia had been delighted with his pishkesh the revenue from a future oil well and had at once offered him a seat on the ihc board. then, to his vast amusement, kia had explained that exit permits should have fees attached to them: let the foreigners sweat, the minister had added. by saturday they will be most anxious

  of their own accord to press on you say three hundred u.s. dollars in cash, per head. "as the minister says," he said importantly, "we should be orderly. now i'm busy, good aftern "

  the door swung open and now starke was in the small office, his face blotchy, his good fist bunched, left arm in a sling. "what the hell's with you, esvandiary? you can't cancel the permits!"

  mciver burst out, "for god's sake, duke, you shouldn't be here!"

  "the permits're postponed, not canceled. postponed!" esvandiary's face contorted. "and how many times do i have to tell you ill-mannered people to knock? knock! this isn't your office, it's mine, i run this base, you don't, and minister kia and i are having a meeting that you've all interrupted! now get out, get out the lot of you!" he turned to kia as though the two of them were alone and said in farsi in a new voice, "minister, i do apologize for all of this, you see what i have to deal with. i strongly recommend we nationalize all foreign airplanes and use our own p "

  starke's jaw jutted. he bunched his fist. "listen you sonofabitch."

  "get out!" esvandiary reached into his drawer where there was an automatic. but he never pulled it out. the mullah hussain came through the door, green bands behind him. a sudden silence pervaded the room.

  "in the name of god, what's going on here?" hussain said in english, cold hard eyes on esvandiary and kia. at once esvan
diary got up and began to explain, speaking farsi, starke cut in with their side, and soon both men were getting louder and louder. impatiently hussain held up his hand. "first you, agha esvandiary. please speak farsi so my komiteh can understand." he listened impassively to the long-winded farsi address, his four green bands crowding the door. then he motioned to starke. "captain?"

  starke was carefully brief and blunt.

  hussain nodded at kia. "now you, excellency minister. may i see your authority to override kowissi authority and exit permits?"

  "override, excellency mullah? postpone? not i," kia said easily. "i'm merely a servant of the imam, god's peace upon him, and of his personally appointed prime minister and his government."