victory gained. He had handed him back the knife, but not the automatic. “I’ll keep this as pishkesh. For a year and a day don’t come into my presence armed.”
“Then how can I protect you, Highness?”
“With wisdom.” He had allowed a small measure of the violence he had kept pent up for years to show. “You have to prove yourself. To me. To me alone. What pleased my father won’t necessarily please me. This is a new era, with new opportunities, new dangers. Remember, by God, the blood of my father rests easily in my veins.” The remainder of the day and well into the evening he had received men of importance from Tabriz and Azerbaijan and asked questions of them, about the insurrection and the leftists, the mujhadin, and fedayeen and other factions. Bazaaris had arrived and mullahs and two ayatollahs, local army commanders and his cousin, the chief of police, and he had confirmed the man’s appointment. All of them had brought suitable pishkesh. And so they should, he thought, very satisfied, remembering their contempt in the past when his fortune had been zero and his banishment to Khoi common knowledge. Their contempt will be very costly, to every last one… “Your bath is ready, Highness, and Ahmed’s waiting outside.” “Bring him in, Ishtar. You stay.” He watched the door open. Ahmed was tired and crumpled.
“Salaam, Highness.”
“What about the ransom?”
“Late last night I found the tribesmen. There were two of them. I explained that Abdollah Khan was dead and the new Khan had ordered me to give them half the ransom asked at once as a measure of faith, promising them the remainder when the pilot is safely back. I sent them north in one of our cars with a trusted driver and another car to follow secretly.” “Do you know who they are, where their village is?”
“They told me they were Kurds, one named Ishmud, the other Alilah, their chief al-Drah and their village was called Broken Tree in the mountains north of Khoi - I’m sure all lies, Highness, and they’re not Kurds though they claim to be. I’d say they were just tribesmen, bandits mostly.” “Good. Where did you get the money to pay them?”
“The Khan, your father, put twenty million rials into my safekeeping against emergencies.”
“Bring the balance to me before sunset.”
“Yes, Highness.”
“Are you armed?”
Ahmed was startled. “Only with my knife, Highness.”
“Give it to me,” he said, hiding his pleasure that Ahmed had fallen into the trap he had set for him, accepting the knife, hilt first. “Didn’t I tell you not to come into my presence armed for a year and a day?” “But as… you gave my knife back to me I thought… I thought the knife…” Ahmed stopped, seeing Hakim standing in front of him, knife held correctly, eyes dark and hard and the pattern of the father. Behind him, the guard Ishtar watched open- mouthed. The hackles on Ahmed’s neck twisted. “Please excuse me, Highness, I thought I had your permission,” he said in real fear. For a moment Hakim Khan just stared at Ahmed, the knife poised in his hand, then he slashed upward. With great skill only the point of the blade went through Ahmed’s coat, touched the skin but only enough to score it then came out again in perfect position for the final blow. But Hakim did not make it, though he wanted to see blood flow and this a good time, but not the perfect time. He still had need of Ahmed.
“I give you back your… your body.” He chose the word and all it implied with great deliberation. “Intact, just - this - once.”
“Yes, Highness, thank you, Highness,” Ahmed muttered, astonished that he was still alive, and went down on his knees. “I… it will never happen again.” “No, it won’t. Stay there. Wait outside, Ishtar.” Hakim Khan sat back on the cushions and toyed with the knife, waiting for the adrenaline to subside, remembering that vengeance was a dish best eaten Cold. “Tell me everything you know about the Soviet, this man called Mzytryk: what holds he had over my father, my father over him.”
Ahmed obeyed. He told him what Hashemi Fazir had said in the 125, what the Khan had told him in secret over the years, about the dacha near Tbilisi that he too had visited, how the Khan contacted Mzytryk, their code words, what Hashemi Fazir had said and threatened, what was in Mzytryk’s letter, what he had overheard and what he had witnessed a few days ago. The air hissed out of Hakim’s mouth. “My father was going to take my sister to… he was going to take her to this dacha and give her to Mzytryk?” “Yes, Highness, he even ordered me to send her north if… if he had to leave here for hospital in Tehran.”
“Send for Mzytryk. Urgently. Ahmed, do it now. At once.”
“Yes, Highness,” Ahmed said and trembled at the contained violence. “Best, at the same time, best to remind him of his promises to Abdollah Khan, that you expect them fulfilled.”
“Good, very good. You’ve told me everything?”
“Everything I can remember now,” Ahmed told him sincerely. “There must be other things - in time I can tell you all manner of secrets, Khan of all the Gorgons, and I swear again before God to serve you faithfully.” I’ll tell you everything, he thought fervently, except the manner of the Khan’s death and that now, more than ever, I want Azadeh as wife. Some way I will make you agree - she’ll be my only real protection against you, spawn of Satan!
JUST OUTSIDE TABRIZ: 7:20 A.M. Erikki’s 212 came over the rise of the forest, inbound at max revs. All the way Erikki had been at treetop level, avoiding roads and airfields and towns and villages, his mind riveted on Azadeh and vengeance against Abdollah Khan, all else forgotten. Now, suddenly ahead, the city was rushing toward them. As suddenly a vast unease washed over him. - “Where’s the palace, pilot?” Sheik Bayazid shouted gleefully. “Where is it?” “Over the ridge, Agha,” he said into the boom mike, part of him wanting to add, We’d better rethink this, decide if the attack’s wise, the other part shouting, This’s the only chance you’ve got, Erikki, you can’t change plans, but how in the hell’re you going to escape with Azadeh from the palace and from this bunch of maniacs? “Tell your men to fasten their seat belts, to wait until the skids touch down, not to take off their safety catches until they’re on the ground, and then to spread out, tell two of them to guard the chopper and protect it with their lives. I’ll count down from ten for the landing and… and I’ll lead.”
“Where’s the palace, I can’t see it.”
“Over the ridge, a minute away - tell them!” The trees were blurring as he went closer to them, his eyes on the col in the mountain ridge, horizon twisting. “I want a gun,” he said, sick with anticipation. Bayazid bared his teeth. “No gun until we possess the palace.” “Then I won’t need one,” he said with a curse. “I’ve got to ha - ” “You can trust me, you have to. Where’s this palace of the Gorgons?” “There!” Erikki pointed to the ridge just above them. ‘Ten… nine… eight…”
He had decided to come in from the east, partially covered by the forests, city well to his right, the col protecting him. Fifty yards to go. His stomach tightened.
The rocks hurtled at them. He felt more than saw Bayazid cry out and hold up his hands to protect himself against the inevitable crash, then Erikki slid through the col and swung down, straight for the walls. At the exact last moment he cut all power, hauled the chopper up over the wall with inches to spare, flaring into an emergency stop procedure, banked slightly for the forecourt, and let her fall out of the air, cushioned the fall perfectly, and set down on the tiles to skid forward a few yards with a screech, then stop. His right hand jerked the circuit breakers out, his left unsnapped the seat belt and shoved the door open, and he was still easily first on the ground and rushing for the front steps. Behind him Bayazid was now following, the cabin doors open and men pouring out, falling over one another in their excitement, the rotor still turning but the engines dying. As he reached the front door and swung it open, servants and an astonished guard came running up to see what all the commotion was about. Erikki tore the assault rifle out of his hands, knocked him unconscious. The servants scattered and fled, a few recognizing him. For the moment the corridor ahead was clear. “Come on!” he shouted, then as Bayazid and some of the others joined him, rushed down the hallway and up the staircase toward the landing. A guard poked his head over the banister, leveled his gun, but a tribesman peppered him. Erikki jumped over the body and rushed the corridor, A door opened ahead. Another guard came out, gun blazing. Erikki felt bullets slice through his parka but he was untouched. Bayazid blew the man against the doorjamb, and together they charged toward the Khan’s room. Once there Erikki kicked the door open. Sustained gunfire came at him, missed him and the Sheik but caught the man next to him and spun the man around. The others scattered for cover and the badly hurt tribesman went forward toward his tormentor, taking more bullets and more but firing back even after he was dead.
For a second or two there was a respite, then to Erikki’s shock Bayazid pulled the pin out of a grenade and tossed it through the doorway. The explosion was huge. Smoke billowed out into the corridor. At once Bayazid leaped through the opening, gun leveled, Erikki beside him. The room was wrecked, windows blown out, curtains
