He could not believe his eyes.
'My God!' he said delightedly. 'It's Ross!'
Forgetting where he was, he turned to run over to Perot: the guard jerked him back.
'Can you believe this?' he said to Bill. 'Perot's here!'
The guard hustled him through the garden. Paul kept looking back at Perot, wondering whether his eyes were deceiving him. He was led into a big circular room with banqueting tables around the outside and walls covered with small triangles of mirrored glass: it was like a small ball-room. A moment later Perot came in with Gallagher, Coburn, and several other people.
Perot was grinning broadly. Paul shook his hand, then embraced him. It was an emotional moment. Paul felt the way he did when he listened to 'The Star Spangled Banner': a kind of shiver went up and down his spine. He was loved, he was cared for, he had friends, he belonged. Perot had come halfway across the world into the middle of a revolution just to visit him.
Perot and Bill embraced and shook hands. Bill said: 'Ross, what in the world are
'Not quite,' Perot said. 'Not yet.'
The guards gathered at the far end of the room to drink tea. The Embassy staff who had come in with Perot sat around another table, talking to a woman prisoner.
Perot put his box on a table. 'There's some long underwear in here for you,' he said to Paul. 'We couldn't buy any, so this is mine, and I want it back, you hear?'
'Sure,' Paul grinned.
'We brought you some books as well, and groceries--peanut butter and tuna fish and juice and I don't know what.' He took a stack of envelopes from his pocket. 'And your mail.'
Paul glanced at his. There was a letter from Ruthie. Another envelope was addressed to 'Chapanoodle.' Paul smiled: that would be from his friend David Behne, whose son Tommy, unable to pronounce 'Chiapparone,' had dubbed Paul 'Chapanoodle.' He pocketed the letters to read later, and said: 'How's Ruthie?'
'She's just fine. I talked to her on the phone,' Perot said. 'Now, we have assigned one man to each of your wives, to make sure everything necessary is done to take care of them. Ruthie's in Dallas now, Paul, staying with Jim and Cathy Nyfeler. She's buying a house, and Tom Walter is handling all the legal details for her.'
He turned to Bill. 'Emily has gone to visit her sister Vickie in North Carolina. She needed a break. She's been working with Tim Reardon in Washington, putting pressure on the State Department. She wrote to Rosalynn Carter--you know, as one wife to another--she's trying everything. Matter of fact, we're all trying everything ...'
As Perot ran down the long list of people who had been asked to help--from Texas congressmen all the way up to Henry Kissinger--Bill realized that the main purpose of Perot's visit was to boost his and Paul's morale. It was something of an anticlimax. For a moment back there, when he had seen Perot walking across the compound with the other guys, grinning all over his face, Bill had thought: here comes the rescue party--at last they've got this damn thing solved, and Perot is coming to tell us personally. He was disappointed. But he cheered up as Perot talked. With his letters from home and his box of good-ies, Perot was like Santa Claus; and his presence here, and the big grin on his face, symbolized a tremendous defiance of Dadgar, the mobs, and everything that threatened them.
Bill was worried, now, about Emily's morale. He knew instinctively what was going on in his wife's mind. The fact that she had gone to North Carolina told him she had given up hope. It had become too much for her to keep up a facade of normality with the children at her parents' house. He knew, somehow, that she had started smoking again. That would puzzle little Chris. Emily had given up smoking when she went into the hospital to have her gallbladder removed, and she had told Chris then that she had had her smoker taken out. Now he would wonder how it had got back in.
'If all this fails,' Perot was saying, 'we have another team in town who will get you out of here by other methods. You'll recognize all the members of the team except one, the leader, an older man.'
Paul said: 'I have a problem with that, Ross. Why should a bunch of guys get cut up for the sake of two?'
Bill wondered just what was being planned. Would a helicopter fly over the compound and pick them up? Would the U.S. Army storm the walls? It was hard to imagine--but with Perot, anything could happen.
Coburn said to Paul: 'I want you to observe and memorize all the details you can about the compound and the prison routine, just like before.'
Bill was feeling embarrassed about his mustache. He had grown it to make him look more Iranian. EDS executives were not allowed to have mustaches or beards, but he had not expected to see Perot. It was silly, he knew, but he felt uncomfortable about it. 'I apologize for this,' he said, touching his upper lip. 'I'm trying to be inconspicuous. I'll shave it off as soon as I get out of here.'
'Keep it,' Perot said with a smile. 'Let Emily and the children see it. Anyway, we're going to change the dress code. We've had the results of the employee attitude survey, and we'll probably permit mustaches, and colored shirts, too.'
Bill looked at Coburn: 'And beards?'
'No beards. Coburn has a very special excuse.'
The guards came to break up the party: visiting time was over.
Perot said: 'We don't know whether we'll get you out quickly or slowly. Tell yourselves it will be slowly. If you get up each morning thinking 'Today could be the day,' you may have a lot of disappointments and become demoralized. Prepare yourselves for a long stay, and you may be pleasantly surprised. But always remember this: we
They all shook hands. Paul said: 'I really don't know how to thank you for coming, Ross.'
Perot smiled. 'Just don't leave without my underwear.'
They all walked out of the building. The EDS men headed across the compound toward the prison gate, leaving Paul and Bill and their guards watching. As his friends disappeared, Bill was seized by a longing just to go with them.
Not today, he told himself, not today.
Perot wondered whether he would be allowed to leave.
Ramsey Clark had had a full hour to let the cat out of the bag. What had he said to the general? Would there be a reception committee waiting in the administration block at the prison entrance?
His heart beat faster as he entered the waiting room. There was no sign of the general or of Clark. He walked through and into the reception area. Nobody looked at him.
With Coburn and Gallagher close behind, he walked through the first set of doors.
Nobody stopped him.
He was going to get away with it.
He crossed the little courtyard and waited by the big gates.
The small door set into one of the gates was opened.
Perot walked out of the prison.
The TV cameras were still there.
All I need, he thought, having gotten this far, is to have the U.S. networks show my picture ...
He pushed his way through the crowd to the Embassy minibus and climbed aboard.
Coburn and Gallagher got on with him, but the Embassy people had lagged behind.
Perot sat on the bus, looking out the window. The crowd in the square seemed malevolent. They were shouting in Farsi. Perot had no idea what they were saying.
He wished the Embassy people would hurry up.
'Where
'They're coming,' Coburn said.
'I thought we'd all just come on out, get in the bus, and
