“No, stop! No need to give our names. Just put down the trip’s to send some spares to Abadan. Surely there are some spares you need to send there.” The sweat was beading him.
“All right, but first please sign the authority, with the name of all passengers and your final destination.”
The general’s face reddened. “Just arrange it without involving me. At once!”
“I can’t.” McIver was becoming equally impatient. “I repeat, the military will want to know all the ‘who’ and the ‘where’ - they’re as sticky now as flypaper. We’ll get even more searching enquiries than usual because we haven’t had any traffic in weeks going that way. Tehran’s not like in the south where we’re flying all day.”
“This is a special flight for spares. Simple.”
“It isn’t simple at all. Sentries at Galeg Morghi wouldn’t let you aboard without papers, nor would the tower. They’d see you going aboard, for God’s sake.” McIver stared at him exasperated. “Why don’t you arrange the clearance yourself, General? You’ve the best connections in Iran. You’ve certainly made that clear. For you it should be simple.”
“They’re all our planes. We own them - own them!”
“Yes, you do,” McIver said as grimly. “When you’ve paid for them - you owe us almost 4 million U.S. in back payments. If you want to go to Abadan that’s your business, but if they catch you doing it in an S-G chopper with false papers which I must countersign, you’ll land in jail, your family’ll be in jail along with me and the pilot, and they’ll impound our aircraft and close us down forever.” Just the thought of jail made him feel bilious. If a tenth of the stories about SAVAK and Iranian jails were true, they were no places to be.
Valik choked back his rage. He sat down and put a sickly smile on his face. “There’s no need for us to quarrel, Mac, we’ve been through too much together. I, I will make it very worthwhile, eh? Both to you and the pilot.” He opened the briefcase. “Eh? 12 million rials - between you.” McIver looked at the money blankly. 12 million was about $150,000 - over 100,000 pounds sterling. Numbly, he shook his head.
At once Valik said, “All right, 12 million each - and expenses - half now and half when we’re safe at Kuwait Airport, eh?”
McIver was in shock, not only because of the money but because Valik had openly said “Kuwait” which McIver had suspected but had not wished to think about. This was a complete 180-degree turn from everything that Valik had been saying for months: for months he had been bullish about the Shah crushing the opposition, then Khomeini. And even after the Shah’s unbelievable departure and Khomeini’s astonishing return to Tehran - my God, was that only ten days ago? - Valik had said a dozen times that there was nothing to worry about, for Bakhtiar and the generals of the Imperial Staff held the complete balance of power and would never permit “this Khomeini - covert Communist revolution to succeed.” Nor would the United States permit it. Never. At the right time the services would seize power and take over. Only yesterday Valik had confidently repeated it and said he’d heard that any hour the army was going to move in force and that the Immortals at Doshan Tappeh, putting down the small air force mutiny, was the first sign. McIver tore his gaze off the money and looked at the eyes of the man opposite. “What do you know that we don’t know?”
“What’re you talking about?” Valik began to bluster. “I don’t know an - ” “Something’s happened, what is it?”
“I’ve got to get out, with my family,” Valik said, on the edge of desperation now. “Rumors are terrible - coup or civil war, Khomeini or not, I’m, we’re, we’re marked. Do you understand? It’s my family, Mac, I’ve got to get out, until things quiet down. 12 million each, eh?” “What rumors?”
“Rumors!” Valik almost spat at him. “Get the clearance any way you can. I pay in advance.”
“However much money you offer I won’t do it. It has to be straight.” “You stupid hypocrite! Straight? How have you been operating all these years in Iran? Pishkesh! How much have you yourself paid under the counter - or to customs men? Pishkesh! How do you think we get contracts, eh? The Guerney contracts? Pishkesh! By putting cash, quietly, into the right hands. Are you so stupid you still don’t know Iranian ways?”
McIver said as grimly, “I know pishkesh, I’m not stupid, and I know Iran has its own ways. Oh, yes, Iran has its own ways. The answer’s no.” “Then the blood of my children and my wife are on your head. And mine.” “What’re you talking about?”
“Are you afraid of the truth?”
McIver stared at him. Valik’s wife and two children were favorites of Genny’s and his. “What makes you so sure?”
“I’ve… I’ve a cousin in the police. He saw a… a secret SAVAK list. I am to be arrested the day after tomorrow along with many other prominent persons as a sop to the… the opposition. And my family. And you know how they treat… how they can treat women and children in front of the…” Valik’s words trailed off.
McIver’s defenses crumbled. They had all heard horrendous stories of wives and children being tortured in front of the arrested man to force his compliance with whatever they wanted, or just for devilment. “All right,” he said helplessly, feeling rotten, knowing he was trapped. “I’ll try, but don’t expect to get a clearance, and you shouldn’t go south to Abadan. Your best bet would be Turkey. Perhaps we could chopper you to Tabriz, then you could buy your way over the border in a truck. You must have friends there. And you can’t make the pickup Galeg Morghi - there’s no way you could sneak aboard with Annoush and the children or even get into that military field without being stopped. You’d… you’d have to be picked up outside of Tehran. Somewhere off the roads and out of sight of radar.”
“All right, but it has to be Abadan.”
“Why? You lessen your chances by half.”
“Has to be. My family … my father and mother got there by road. Of course you’re right about Galeg Morghi. We could be picked up outside Tehran at…” Valik thought for a moment, then rushed on: “at the junction of the pipeline south and the river Zehsan… it’s away from the road and safe. We’ll be there in the morning at eleven o’clock. God will thank you, Mac. If… if you apply for a clearance for spares, I… I will arrange that it’s approved. Please, I beg you.”
“But what about refueling? When you land for refueling, the landing officer’s bound to spot you and you’ll be arrested in seconds.” “Request refueling at the air force base at Isfahan. I… I will arrange Isfahan.” Valik wiped the sweat off his face.
“And if anything goes wrong?”
“Insha’Allah! You’ll apply for clearance for spares - no names on the clearance or I’m dead or worse and so are Annoush, Jalal, and Setarem. Please?”
McIver knew it was madness. “I’ll apply for clearance: spares only for Bandar Delam. I should know by midnight if it’s approved - I’ll send someone to wait for it and bring it to me at the apartment. Phones are out so you’ll have to come to me for confirmation. That’ll give me time to think this out and decide yes or no.”
“But y - ”
“Midnight.”
“Yes, very well, I shall be there.”
“What about the other partners?”
“They - they know nothing of this. Emir Paknouri or one of the others will act for me.”
“What about weekly monies?”
“They will provide it.” Again Valik wiped his forehead. “The Blessings of God on you.” He put on his overcoat and walked for the door! The briefcase stayed on the desk.
“Take that with you.”
Valik turned back. “Ah, you want me to pay in Kuwait? Or Switzerland? In what currency?”