On Wings Of Eagles (1990)

tone of his voice, never offered an opinion, never even moved from his chair.

But the Simons ice was easier to deal with than the Perot fire. Each morning Perot would knock on the door while Taylor was shaving. Taylor got up a little earlier each day, in order to be ready when Perot came, but Perot got up earlier each day, too, until Taylor began to fantasize that Perot listened outside the door all night, waiting to catch him shaving. Perot would be full of ideas that had come to him during the night: new arguments for Paul and Bill's innocence, new schemes for persuading the Iranians to release them. Taylor and John Howell--the tall and the short, like Batman and Robin--would head off in the Batmobile to the Ministry of Justice or the Ministry of Health, where officials would demolish Perot's ideas in seconds. Perot was still using a legalistic, rational, American approach, and, in Taylor's opinion, had yet to realize that the Iranians were not playing according to those rules.

This was not all Taylor had on his mind. His wife, Mary, and the children, Mike and Dawn, were staying with his parents in Pittsburgh. Taylor's mother and father were both over eighty, both in failing health. His mother had a heart condition. Mary was having to deal with that on her own. She had not complained, but he could tell, when he talked to her on the phone, that she was not happy.

Taylor sighed. He could not cope with all the world's problems at one time. He topped up his drink, then, carrying the glass, left his room and went to Perot's suite for the evening bloodbath.

Perot paced up and down the sitting room of his suite, waiting for the negotiating team to gather. He was doing no good here in Tehran and he knew it.

He had suffered a chilly reception at the U.S. Embassy. He had been shown into the office of Charles Naas, the Ambassador's deputy. Naas had been gracious, but had given Perot the same old story about how EDS should work through the legal system for the release of Paul and Bill. Perot had insisted on seeing the Ambassador. He had come halfway around the world to see Sullivan, and he was not going to leave before speaking to him. Eventually Sullivan came in, shook Perot's hand, and told him he was most unwise to come to Iran. It was clear that Perot was a problem and Sullivan did not want any more problems. He talked for a while, but did not sit down, and he left as soon as he could. Perot was not used to such treatment. He was, after all, an important American, and in normal circumstances a diplomat such as Sullivan would be at least courteous, if not deferential.

Perot also met Lou Goelz, who seemed sincerely concerned about Paul and Bill but offered no concrete help.

Outside Naas's office he ran into a group of military attaches who recognized him. Since the prisoners-of-war campaign Perot had always been able to count on a warm reception from the American military. He sat down with the attaches and told them his problem. They said candidly that they could not help. 'Look, forget what you read in the paper, forget what the State Department is saying publicly,' one of them told him. 'We don't have any power here, we don't have any control--you're wasting your time in the U.S. Embassy.'

Perot had also wasted his time at U.S. Military Headquarters. Cathy Gallagher's boss, Colonel Keith Barlow, Chief of the U.S. Support Activity Command in Iran, had sent a bulletproof car to the Hyatt. Perot had got in with Rich Gallagher. The driver had been Iranian: Perot wondered which side he was on.

They met with Air Force General Phillip Gast, chief of the U.S. Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG) in Iran, and General 'Dutch' Huyser. Perot knew Huyser slightly, and remembered him as a strong, dynamic man; but now he looked drained. Perot knew from the newspapers that Huyser was President Carter's emissary, here to persuade the Iranian military to back the doomed Bakhtiar government; and Perot guessed that Huyser had no stomach for the job.

Huyser candidly said he would like to help Paul and Bill but at the moment he had no leverage with the Iranians: he had nothing to trade. Even if they got out of jail, Huyser said, they would be in danger here. Perot told them he had that taken care of: Bull Simons was here to look after Paul and Bill once they got out. Huyser burst out laughing, and a moment later Gast saw the joke. They knew who Simons was, and they knew he would be planning more than a baby-sitting job.

Gast offered to supply fuel to Simons, but that was all. Warm words from the military, cold words from the Embassy; little or no real help from either. And nothing but excuses from Howell and Taylor.

Sitting in a hotel room all day was driving Perot crazy. Today Cathy Gallagher had asked him to take care of her poodle, Buffy. She made it sound like an honor--a measure of her high esteem for Perot--and he had been so surprised that he had agreed. Sitting looking at the animal, he had realized that this was a funny occupation for the leader of a major international business, and he wondered how the hell he had let himself be talked into it. He got no sympathy from Keane Taylor, who thought it was funny as hell. After a few hours Cathy had come back from the hairdresser's or wherever she had been, and had taken the dog back; but Perot's mood remained black.

There was a knock at Perot's door, and Taylor came in, carrying his usual drink. He was followed by John Howell, Rich Gallagher, and Bob Young. They all sat down.

'Now,' said Perot, 'did you tell them that we'd guarantee to produce Paul and Bill for questioning anywhere in the U.S. or Europe, on thirty days' notice, at any time in the next two years?'

'They're not interested in that idea,' said Howell.

'What do you mean, they're not interested?'

'I'm just telling you what they said--'

'But if this is an investigation, rather than a blackmail attempt, all they need is to be sure that Paul and Bill will be available for questioning.'

'They're sure already. I guess they see no reason to make changes.'

It was maddening. There seemed no way to reason with the Iranians, no way to reach them. 'Did you suggest they release Paul and Bill into the custody of the U.S. Embassy?'

'They turned that down, too.'

'Why?'

'They didn't say.'

'Did you ask them?'

'Ross, they don't have to give reasons. They're in charge here, and they know it.'

'But they're responsible for the safety of their prisoners.'

'It's a responsibility that doesn't seem to weigh too heavily on them.'

Taylor said: 'Ross, they're not playing by our rules. Putting two men in jail is not a big deal to them. Paul's and Bill's safety is not a big deal--'

'So what rules are they playing by? Can you tell me that?'

There was a knock at the door and Coburn walked in, wearing his Michelin Man coat and his black knit hat. Perot brightened: perhaps he would have good news. 'Did you meet with Deep Throat?'

'Sure did,' said Coburn, taking off his coat.

'All right, let's have it.'

'He says he can get Paul and Bill released for six million dollars. The money would be paid into an escrow account in Switzerland and released when Paul and Bill leave Iran.'

'Hell, that ain't bad,' said Perot. 'We get out with fifty cents on the dollar. Under U.S. law it would even be legal--it's a ransom. What kind of guy is Deep Throat?'

'I don't trust the bastard,' said Coburn.

'Why?'

Coburn shrugged. 'I don't know, Ross ... He's shifty, flaky ... A bullshitter ... I wouldn't give him sixty cents to go to the store and get me a pack of cigarettes. That's my gut feeling.'

'But, listen, what do you expect?' Perot said. 'This is bribery--pillars of the community don't get involved in this kind of thing.'

Howell said: 'You said it. This is bribery.' His deliberate, throaty voice was unusually passionate. 'I don't like this one bit.'

'I don't like it,' Perot said. 'But you've all been telling me that the Iranians aren't playing by our rules.'

'Yes, but listen,' Howell said fervently. 'The straw I've been clinging to all through this is that we've done nothing wrong--and someday, somehow, somewhere, somebody is going to recognize that, and then all this will evaporate ... I'd