were sent to Van this morning. To extradite them you have to apply to Army HQ, not to me. The… the importance of the Khan’s sister meant that the army took possession of both of them.”
The mullah’s face froze. One of the Green Bands said sullenly, “How do we know that’s not a lie?” The major whirled on him, the youth jumped back a foot, Green Bands behind the truck aimed, the unarmed airmen dropped to the ground aghast, the major’s hand went for his revolver.
“Stop!” the mullah said. He was obeyed, even by the major who was furious with himself for allowing pride and reflexes to overcome his self-discipline. The mullah thought a moment, considering possibilities. Then he said, “We will apply to Van. Yes, we will do that. But not today. Today we will take our property and we will leave.” He stood there, legs slightly apart, assault rifle over his shoulder, supremely confident. The major fought to hide his relief. The helicopter had no value to him or his superiors and was an extreme embarrassment. “I agree they’re your markings,” he said shortly. “As to ownership, I don’t know. If you sign a receipt leaving ownership open, you may take it and leave.” “I will sign a receipt for our helicopter.” On the back of the warrant the major scrawled what would satisfy him and perhaps satisfy the mullah. The mullah turned and scowled at the airmen who hurriedly began reeling in the fuel hoses, and the pilot stood beside the cockpit once more, brushing the snow off. “Are you ready now, pilot?” “Any moment, Excellency.” “Here,” the major said to the mullah, handing him the paper. With barely concealed derision the mullah signed it without reading it. “Are you ready now, pilot?” he said.
“Yes, Excellency, yes.” The young captain looked at the major and the major saw - or thought he saw - the misery in his eyes and the unspoken plea for asylum that was impossible to grant. “Can I start up?”
“Start up,” the mullah said imperiously, “of course start up.” In seconds the engines began winding up sweetly, rotors picking up speed. “Ali and Abrim, you go with the truck back to the base.”
Obediently the two young men got in with the air force driver. The mullah motioned them to leave and the others to board the helicopter. The rotors were thrashing the air and he waited until everyone was in the cabin, then unslung his gun, sat beside the pilot, and pulled the door closed. Engines building, an awkward liftoff, the 212 started trundling away. Angrily the sergeant aimed his submachine gun. “I can blow the motherless turds out of the sky, Major.”
“Yes, yes, we could.” The major took out his cigarette case. “But we’ll leave that to God. Perhaps God will do that for us.” He used the lighter shakily, inhaled, and watched the truck and the helicopter grinding away. “Those dogs will have to be taught manners and a lesson.” He walked over to the car and got in. “Drop me at the hotel.”
AT THE HOTEL: Azadeh was leaning out of the window, searching the sky. She had heard the 212 start up and take off and was filled with the impossible hope that Erikki had somehow escaped. “Oh, God, let it be true…” Villagers were also looking up at the sky and now she too saw the chopper well on its way back to the border. Her insides turned over. Has he bartered his freedom for mine? Oh, Erikki…
Then she saw the police car come into the square, stop outside the hotel, and the major get out, straighten his uniform. Her face drained. Resolutely she closed the window and sat on the chair facing the door, near the pillow. Waiting. Waiting. Now footsteps. The door opened. “Follow me,” he said. “Please.”
For a moment she did not understand. “What?”
“Follow me. Please.”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously, expecting a trap and not wanting to leave the safety of the hidden spike. “What’s going on? Is my husband flying the helicopter? It’s going back. Have you sent him back?” She felt her courage leaving her fast, her anxiety that Erikki had given himself up in return for her safety making her frantic. “Is he flying it?”
“No, your husband’s in the police station. Iranians came for the helicopter, for him and you.” Now that the crisis was over, the major felt very good. “The airplane was Iran-registered, had no clearance to leave Iran, so therefore they still had a right to it. Now, follow me.”
“Where to, please?”
“I thought you might like to see your husband.” The major enjoyed looking at her, enjoyed the danger, wondering where her secreted weapon was. These women always have a weapon or venom of some kind, death of some kind lurking for the unwary rapist. Easy to overcome if you’re ready, if you watch their hands and don’t sleep. “Well?”
“There are… there are Iranians at the police station?”
“No. This is Turkey, not Iran, no alien is waiting for you. Come along, you’ve nothing to fear.”
“I’ll… I’ll be right down. At once.”
“Yes, you will - at once,” he said. “You don’t need a bag, just your jacket. Be quick before I change my mind.” He saw the flash of fury and it further amused him. But this time she obeyed, seething, put on her jacket and went down the stairs, hating her helplessness. Across the square beside him, eyes watching them. Into the station and the room, the same one as before. “Please wait here.” Then he closed the door and went into the office. The sergeant held out the phone for him. “I have Captain Tanazak, Border Station duty officer, for you, sir.”
“Captain? Major Ikail. The border’s closed to all mullahs and Green Bands until further orders. Arrest the sergeant who let some through a couple of hours ago and send him to Van in great discomfort. An Iranian truck’s coming back. Order it harassed for twenty hours, and the men in it. As for you, you’re subject to court-martial for failing to ensure standing instructions about armed-men!” He put the phone down, glanced at his watch. “Is the car ready, Sergeant?” “Yes, Effendi.”
“Good.” The major went through the door, down the corridor to the cage, the sergeant following him. Erikki did not get up. Only his eyes moved. “Now, Mr. Pilot, if you’re prepared to be calm, controlled, and no longer stupid, I’m going to bring your wife to see you.”
Erikki’s voice grated. “If you or anyone touches her I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll tear you to pieces.”
“I agree it must be difficult to have such a wife. Better to have an ugly one than one such as her - unless she’s kept in purdah. Now do you want to see her or not?” “What do I have to do?”
Irritably the major said, “Be calm, controlled, and no longer stupid.” To the sergeant he said in Turkish, “Go and fetch her.”
Erikki’s mind was expecting disaster or a trick. Then he saw her at the end of the corridor, and that she was whole, and he almost wept with relief, and so did she. “Oh, Erikki…”
“Both of you listen to me,” the major said curtly. “Even though you’ve both caused us a great deal of inconvenience and embarrassment, I’ve decided you were both telling the truth so you will be sent at once with a guard to Istanbul, discreetly, and handed over to your ambassador, discreetly - to be expelled, discreetly.”
They stared at him, dumbfounded. “We’re to be freed?” she said, holding on to the bars.
“At once. We expect your discretion - and that’s part of the bargain. You will have to agree formally in writing. Discretion.
That means no leaks, no public or private crowing about your escape or escapades. You agree?”
“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” Azadeh said. “But there’s, there’s no trick?” “No.”
“But…but why? Why after… why’re you letting us go?” Erikki stumbled over the words, still not believing him.
“Because I tested both of you, you both passed the tests, you committed no crimes that we would judge crimes - your oaths are between you and God and not subject to any court - and, fortunately for you, the warrant was illegal and therefore unacceptable. Komiteh!” he muttered disgustedly, then noticed the way they were looking at each other. For a moment he was awed. And envious.
Curious that Hakim Khan allowed a komiteh to issue the warrant, not the police who would have made extradition legal. He motioned to the sergeant. “Let him out. I’ll wait for you both in the office. Don’t forget I still have your jewelry to return to you. And the two knives.” He strode off. The cage gate opened noisily. The sergeant hesitated, then left. Neither Erikki nor Azadeh noticed him go or the foulness of the cell, only each other, she just outside, still holding on to the bars, he just inside, holding on to the bars of the door. They did not move. Just smiled. “Insha’Allah?” she said.
“Why not?” And then, still disoriented by their deliverance by an honest man whom Erikki would have torn apart as the epitome of evil a moment ago, Erikki remembered what the major had said about purdah, how desirable she was. In spite of his wish not to wreck the miracle of the good he blurted out, “Azadeh, I’d like to leave all the bad here. Can we? What about John Ross?”
Her smile did not alter and she knew that they were at the abyss. With confidence she leaped into it, glad for the opportunity. “Long ago in our beginning I told you that once upon a time I knew him when I was very young,”
