undisturbed. The moon came out from the clouds again. No movement anywhere. He glanced at his watch. It was 4:23.
He looked at the sky, no sign of any dawn yet. At dawn he had to leave, not to the north face of Sabalan but to other radar sites farther west. Cimtarga had told him that the CIA still operated certain sites nearer the Turkish border but that today the Khomeini government had ordered them closed, evacuated, and left intact. “They’ll never do that,” Erikki had said. “Never.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Cimtarga had laughed. “The moment we get orders, you and I will just fly there with my ‘tribesmen’ and hurry them up….” Matyer! And matyer Johnny Brighteyes arriving to complicate our lives. Even so, thank all gods for the warning he brought. What’s Abdollah planning for Azadeh? I should kill that old swine and have done with it. Yes, but I can’t, I swore by the ancient gods an oath that may not be broken, not to touch her father - as he himself swore by the One God not to hinder us though he’ll find a way to break that oath. Can I do the same? No. An oath is an oath. Like the one you swore to her that you could live happily with her, knowing about him - him - didn’t you? His mind blackened and he was glad of the darkness.
So the KGB plan to kidnap me. If it’s a real plan I’m done for. Azadeh? What’s that devil Abdollah planning for her now? And now this Johnny arrives to harass us all - I never thought he’d be so good-looking and tough and no man to mix with, him with that sodding great knife, killing knife… “Come back to bed, Erikki,” she said. “It’s very cold, isn’t it?” He nodded and followed and got in his side, greatly troubled. When they were back under the great quilt, she snuggled against him. Not enough to provoke a reaction but just enough to appear normal and untouched. “How extraordinary to find it was him, Erikki! John Ross - in the street I certainly wouldn’t have recognized him. Oh, that was such a long time ago, I’d forgotten all about him. I’m so pleased you married me, Erikki,” she said, her voice calm and loving, sure that his mind was grinding her long-lost love to dust. “I feel so safe with you - if it hadn’t been for you I would have died of fright.” She said it as though expecting an answer. But I don’t expect one, my darling, she thought contentedly and sighed. He heard her sigh and wondered what it meant, feeling her warmth against him, loathing the rage that possessed him. Was it because she’s sorry she had smiled at her lover as she did? Or is she furious with me - she must have seen my jealousy. Or is she saddened that I have forgotten my oath, or is she hating me because I hate that man? I swear I’ll exorcise him from her….
Ah, Johnny Brighteyes, she was thinking, what ecstasy I enjoyed in your arms, even the first time when it was supposed to hurt, but it never did. Just a pain that became a burning that became a melting that tore away life and gave life back to me again, better than before, oh, how so much better than before! And then Erikki…
It was much warmer now under the quilt. Her hand went across his loins. She felt him move slightly and she hid her smile, sure that her warmth was reaching him now, so easy to warm him further. But unwise. Very unwise, for then she knew he would only take her with Johnny in the forefront of his mind, taking her to spite Johnny and not to love her - perhaps even thinking that in her acquiescence she was feeling guilty and was trying to make up for her guilt. Oh, no, my love, I’m not a foolish child, you’re the guilty one, not me. And though you’d be stronger than usual and more rough, which would normally increase my pleasure, this time it would not, for,‘like it or not, I would resist even more than you, aware of my other love. So, my darling, it is ten thousand times better to wait. Until the dawn. By then, my darling, if I’m lucky you will have persuaded yourself that you are wrong to hate and be jealous and you will be my Erikki again. And if you haven’t? Then I will begin again - there are ten thousand ways to heal my man. “I love you, Erikki,” she said and kissed the cloth that covered his chest, turned over, and settled her back against him and went into sleep, smiling.
Chapter 35
AT KOWISS AIR BASE: 8:11 A.M. Freddy Ayre bunched his fists. “No, by God! You heard McIver’s orders: If Starke’s not back by dawn all flights are grounded. It’s past eight o’clock and Starke’s not back so all fl - ” “You will obey my flight orders!” Esvandiary, the IranOil manager, shouted at him, his voice echoing around the S-G base. “I’ve ordered you to deliver a new mud tank and pipe under Guerney’s contract to Rig Si - ” “No flying until Captain Starke’s back!” Ayre snarled. They were on the flight line near the three 212s that Esvandiary had scheduled for today’s operations, the three pilots geared and ready since dawn, the rest of the expats watching in varying degrees of nervousness or anger. Around them were a truckload of hostile Green Bands and servicemen from the base who had just arrived with Esvandiary. Four of Zataki’s men squatted near the choppers but none of them had moved since the quarrel had eruptcd though all of them were watching closely. “All flights are grounded!” Ayre repeated. Furiously Esvandiary called out in Farsi, “These foreigners refuse to obey legitimate orders of IranOil.” A mutter of anger went through his supporters, guns covered the expats, and he stabbed a finger at Ayre. “They need an example!”
Without warning rough hands grabbed Ayre, and the beating began. One of the pilots, Sandor Petrofl, rushed forward to intervene but he was shoved back, slipped, and was kicked back to the others who were helpless under the guns. “Stop it!” Pop Kelly, the tall captain, shouted out, his face chalky. “Leave Ayre alone, we’ll fly the missions!”
“Good.” Esvandiary told his men to stop. They dragged Ayre to his feet. “Get all flights under way. At once!”
When the flights were airborne he dismissed the expats roughly. “There’ll be no more mutinies against the Islamic state. By God, all orders of IranOil will - will - be obeyed instantly.” Very satisfied with himself that he had put down the mutiny as he had promised the camp commandant, he strode into the main office, down the corridor into Starke’s office that he had commandeered, and stood at the window surveying his domain. He saw two choppers well away now, the third was hovering twenty feet over the mud tank a hundred yards away, waiting for the ground crew to link its skyhook into the big steel ring that topped the hawsers. In front of the office Ayre, surrounded by other expats, was being succored by Doc Nutt. Rotten bastard to give me so much trouble, Esvandiary thought, and glanced at his watch, admiring it. It was a gold Rolex that he had bought on the black market this morning as befitted his increased stature, the money pishkesh from a bazaari who wanted his son to join IranOil. “Do you need anything, Excellency?” Pavoud asked unctuously from the doorway. “May I add my congratulations for the way that you handled the foreigners. For years they’ve all needed a good beating to put them in their places, how wise you were.”
“Yes. From now on the base will run smoothly. The moment there’s a problem, whoever’s in charge will be made an example of. Praise God that son of a dog Zataki leaves in an hour with his thugs for Abadan.”
“That’s one flight that will leave on time, Excellency.” Both men laughed. “Yes. Bring me some tea, Pavoud.” Deliberately Esvandiary left out the normal politeness and noted the man’s humility in-585 crease. He stared out of the window again. Doc Nutt was dabbing a cut over Ayre’s eye. I enjoyed watching Freddy being beaten, he thought. Yes, yes, I did.
In the chill wind Doc Nutt had wrapped a spare parka around Ayre. “You’d better come over to the surgery, laddie,” he said.
“I’m all right,” Ayre said, hurting all over. “Don’t think… don’t think anything’s damaged.”
“Bastards,” someone said. “Freddy, we’d better figure how we’re going to get to hell out of here.”
“It’s me on the first plane out…. I’m not going to risk an - ” They all looked off as the jet engines of the chopper hovering over the mud tank picked up tempo. Getting such a heavy load airborne was tricky - particularly in this wind - but no problem for a professional like Sandor. The hook went in first time and the moment the ground crew had their hands clear, he increased power, the engines screamed at a higher pitch, taking the strain, then chopper and load eased into the sky. The guard in the front seat beside Sandor waved excitedly - as did the one in the cabin. “You’re doing fine, Captain… no sweat,” came into Sander’s headphones from Wazari in their tower, Sandor estimating the distance, gaining height, his hands and feet perfectly coordinated - seeing only Esvandiary at the office window, still maddened by Ayre’s savage beating by many armed men at the orders of a coward. It took him back in time to his childhood in Budapest during the Hungarian Revolution. He had been helpless then - but not now. “You’re okay, HFD, but kinda close.” Wazari’s voice cautioned him. “You’re kinda close, ease south…”
Sandor increased power, moving toward the tower that topped the office building. “Is the load okay?” he asked. “Feels strange.”
“Looks fine, no sweat, but ease south as you climb. Everything five by five… ease south, do you read me?”
“You sure, for crissake? She feels sluggish as all hell….” The needle climbed through a hundred feet. Sander’s face closed and his hand snapped the stick right, at the same time he gave her hard right rudder. At once the chopper reeled sickeningly, the guard in the seat beside him was thrown off balance; he bashed against the door, then grabbed Sandor, trying to steady himself, and tangled with the controls. Again Sandor overcorrected, cursing
