On Wings of Eagles (54 page)

    Gholam. It was late: they would be worried sick in Dallas. But what should

    he tell Gholam-that they were okay, or that they were in trouble?

    Them was some discussion about who should pay the bill when the meal was

    over. The guards wanted to pay, Rashid said. The Americans were anxious not

    to offend by offering to pay when they were supposed to be guess, but also

    keen to ingratiate themselves with these people. In the end Keane Taylor

    paid for everyone.

    As they were leaving, Coburn said to the interpreter: "I'd sure like to

    call Tehran, to let our people know we're all right."

"Okay," said the young man.

    They drove to the post office. Coburn and the interpreter went in. Thme was

    a crowd of people waiting to use the three or four phone booths. The

    interpreter spoke to someone behind the counter, then told Coburn: "All the

    lines to Tehran are busyit's very difficult to get dumo.

"Could we come back later?"

..Okay. I I

    They drove out of the town in the dark. After a few minutes they stopped at

    a gate in a fence. The moonlight showed the distant outline of what might

    have been a darn.

    There was a long delay while keys to the gate were found, then they drove

    in. They found themselves in a small park

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES 329

surrounding an ornate, modem two-story building made of white granite. "This

is one of the Shah's palaces," the interpreter explained. "He has used it

only once, when he opened the power station. Tonight we will use it. "

    They went inside. The place was cozily warm. The interpreter said

    indignantly: "The heating has been on for three years just in case the Shah

    should decide to drop by."

    They all went upstairs and looked at their quarters. There was a luxurious

    royal suite with an enormous fancy bathroom, then along the corridor were

    smaller rooms, each containing two single beds and a bathroom, presumably

    for the Shah's bodyguard. Under each bed was a pair of slippers.

    The Americans moved into the guards' rooms and the revolutionary Kurds took

    over the Shah's suite. One of them decided to take a bath: the Americans

    could hear him splashing about, hooting, and hollering. After a while he

    came out. He was the biggest and burliest of them, and he had put on one of

    the Shah's fancy bathrobes. He came mincing down the corridor while his

    colleagues fell about laughing. He went up to Gayden and said in heavily

    accented English: "Complete gentleman." Gayden broke UP-

Coburn said to Simons: "What's the routine for tomorrow?"

    "They want to escort us to Rezaiyeh and hand us over to the head man

    there," said Simons. "It'll help to have them with us if we meet any more

    roadblocks. But when we get to Rezaiyeh, we may be able to persuade them to

    take us to the professor's house instead of the head man."

Coburn nodded. "Okay."

    Rashid looked worried. "These are bad people," he whispered. "Don't trust

    them. We've got to get out of here."

    Coburn was not sure he trusted the Kurds, but he was quite certain there

    would be trouble if the Americans tried to leave now.

    He noticed that one of the guards had a G3 rifle. "Hey, that's a real neat

    firearm," he said.

The guard smiled and seemed to understand.

    "I've never seen one before," Coburn said. "How do you load it?"

"Load ... so," said the guard, and showed him.

    They sat down and the guard explained the rifle. He spoke enough English to

    make himself understood with the help of gestures.

330 Ken Folleu

    After a while Coburn realized that he was now holding the rifle.

He started to relax.

    The others wanted to take showers, but Gayden went first and used all the

    hot water. Paul took a cold shower: he had sure as hell got used to cold

    showers lately.

    They learned a little about their interpreter. He was studying in Europe

    and had been home on holiday when the revolution caught him and prevented

    his going back: that was how come he knew the airport was closed.

    At midnight Coburn asked him: "Can we try to place that call againT I

. 'Okay.

    One of the guards escorted Coburn back into town. They went to the post

    office, which was still open. However, there were no lines to Tehran.

Coburn waited until two o'clock in the morning, then gave up.

    When he returned to the palace beside the dam, everyone was fast asleep.

    He went to bed. At least they were all still alive. That was enough to be

    thankful for. Nobody knew what was between them and the border. He would

    worry about that tomorrow.

    TwELvE

"Wake up, Coburn, let's move, let's go!"

    Simons's gravelly voice penetrated Coburn's slumber and he opened his eyes,

    thinking: Where am P

In the Shah's palace at Mahabad.

Oh, shit.

He got up.

    Simons was getting the Dirty Team ready to go, but there was no sip of

    their guards: Apparently they were all still asleep. The Americans made

    plenty of noise, and eventually the Kurds emerged from the royal suite.

    Simons said to Rashid: "Tell them we have to go, we9re in a hurry, our

    friends are waiting at the border for us - "

Rashid told diem, then said: "We have to wait."

Simons did not like this. "What for?"

"They all want to take showers."

    Keane Taylor said: "I don't see the urgency-most of them haven't taken a

    shower in a year or two, you'd think they could wait another day."

    Simons contained his impatience for half an hour, then told Rashid to tell

    the guards again that the team had to hurry.

"We have to see the Shah's bathroom," Rashid said.

    "Goddammit, we've seen it," said Simons. "What's the delay?"

    Everyone trooped into the royal suite and dutifully exclaimed at the

    shameful luxury of an unused palace; and still the guards would not move

    out.

    Coburn wondered what was happening. Had they changed their minds about

    escorting the Americans to the next town? Had

    331

332 Ken Follett

Bolourian checked up on EDS during the night? Simons would not be kept here

much longer . . .

    Finally the young interpreter showed up, and it turned out the guards had

    been waiting for him. The plan was unchanged: a group of Kurds would go

    with the Americans on the next leg of their journey.

    Simons said: "We have friends in Rezaiyeh-we'd like to be taken to their

    house, rather than go see the head man of the town. "

    "It's not safe," said the interpreter. "The fighting is heavy north of

    here--4he city of Tabriz is still in the hands of the Shah's supporters. I

    must hand you over to people who can protect you."

"All right, but can we leave now?"

"Sure. 11

They left.

    They drove into the town and were ordered to stop outside a house. The

    interpreter went in. They all waited. Somebody bought bread and cream

    cheese for breakfast. Coburn got out of his car and went to Simons's.

    "What's happening now?"

    "This is the mullah's house," Rashid explained. "He is writing a letter to

    the mullah of Rezaiyeh, about us. "

    It was about an hour before the interpreter came out with the promised

    letter.

    Next they drove to the police station, and there they saw their escort

    vehicle: a big white ambulance with a flashing red light on top, its

    windows knocked out, and some kind of identification scrawled on its side

    in Farsi with red magic marker, presumably saying "Mahabad Revolutionary

    Committee" or something similar. It was full of gun-toting Kurds.

So much for traveling inconspicuously.

At last they got on the road, the ambulance leading the way.

    Simons was anxious about Dadgar. Clearly no one in Mahabad had been alerted

    to look out for Paul and Bill, but Rezaiyeh was a much bigger town. Simons

    did not know whether Dadgar's authority extended into the countryside: all

    he knew was that so far Dadgar had always surprised everyone by his

    dedication and his ability to persist through changes of government. Simons

    wished the team did not have to be taken before the Rezaiyeh authorities.

"We have good friends in Rezaiyeh," he told the young

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES 333

interpreter. "If you could take us to their house, we'd be very safe there."

    "Oh, no," said the interpreter. "if I disobey orders and you get hurt,

    there will be hell to pay."

    Simons gave up. It was clear they were as much prisoners as guests of the

    Kurds. The revolution in Mahabad was characterized by Communist discipline

    rather than Islamic anarchy, and the only way to get rid of the escort

    would be by violence. Simons was not yet ready to start a fight.

    Just outside the town, the ambulance pulled off the road and stopped at a

    little caft.

"Why am we stopping?" Simons said.

"Breakfast," said the interpreter.

"We don't need breakfast," Simons said forcefully.

"But-"

"We don't need breakfast!"

    The interpreter shrugged, and shouted something to the Kurds getting out of

    the ambulance. They got back in and the convoy drove on.

They reached the outskirts of Rezaiyeh late in the morning.

    Their way was barred by the inevitable roadblock. This one was a serious,

    military-style affair of parked vehicles, sandbags, and barbed wire. The

    convoy slowed, and an armed guard waved them off the road and into the

    forecourt of a filling station that had been turned into a command post.

    The approach road was well covered by machine guns in the filling-station

    building.

    T"he ambulance failed to stop soon enough and ran right into the

    barbed-wire fence.

The two Range Rovers pulled up in an orderly fashion.

    The ambulance was immediately surrounded by guards, and an argument

    started. Rashid and the interpreter went over to join in. The Rezaiyeh

    revolutionaries did not automatically assume that the Mahabad

    revolutionaries were on their side. The Rezaiyeh men were Azerbaijainis,

    not Kurds, and the argument took place in Turkish as well as Farsi.

    The Kurds were being ordered to turn in their weapons, it seemed, and they

    were refusing angrily. The interpreter was showing the note from the

    Mahabad mullah. Nobody was taking much notice of Rashid, who was suddenly

    an outsider.

    Eventually the interpreter and Rashid came back to the cars. "We're going

    to take you to a hotel," said the interpreter, "then I will go and see the

    mullah. "

334 Ken Follett

    The ambulance was all tangled up in the barbed-wire fence, and had to be

    extricated before they could go. Guards from the roadblock escorted them

    into the town.

    It was a large town by the standards of the Iranian provinces. It had

    plenty of concrete and stone buildings and a few paved roads. The convoy

    pulled up in a main street. Distant shouting could be heard. Rashid and the

    interpreter went into a buildingpresumably a hotel--and the others waited.

    Coburn felt optimistic. You didn't put prisoners into a hotel before

    shooting them. This was just administrative hassle.

    Tle distant shouting grew louder, and a crowd appeared at the end of the

    street.

In the rear car Coburn said: "What the hell is this?"

    The Kurds jumped out of their ambulance and surrounded the two Range

    Rovers, forming a wedge in front of the lead car. One of them pointed to

    Coburn's door and made a motion like turriing a key. "Lock the doors,"

    Coburn said to the others.

    The crowd came closer. It was some kind of street parade, Coburn realized.

    At the head of the procession were a number of army officers in tattered

    uniforms. One of them was in tears. "You know what I think?" said Coburn.

    "The army just surrendered, and they're running the officers down Main

    Street. "

    The vengeful crowd surged around the vehicles, jostling the Kurdish guards

    and looking through the windows with hostile glares. The Kurds stood their

    ground and tried to push the crowds away from the cars. It looked as though

    it would turn into a fight at any moment. -Tbis is getting ugly," said

    Gayden. Coburn kept an eye on the car in front, wondering what Simons would

    do.

    Coburn saw the snout of a gun aimed at the window on the driver's side.

    "Paul, don't look now, but someone's pointing a gun at your head."

6 11

'Jesus ...

    Coburn could imagine what would happen next: The mob would start rocking

    the cars, then they would turn them over . . .

    Then, suddenly, it ended. The defeated soldiers were the main attraction,

    and as they passed on, the crowd followed. Coburn relaxed. Paul said: "For