On Wings of Eagles (46 page)

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Authors: Ken Follett

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BOOK: On Wings of Eagles
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    out of the new rooms.

280 Ken Follett

 

    Paul took a hot bath. He had been longing for it. He had not had a bath for

    six weeks. He reveled in the clean white bathroom, the piping hot water,

    the fresh cake of soap ... He would never take such things for granted

    again. He washed the Gasr Prison out of his hair. There were clean clothes

    waiting for him: someone had retrieved his suitcase from the Hilton, where

    he had been staying until he was arrested.

    Bill took a shower. His euphoria had gone. He had imagined that the

    nightmare was over when he walked into Gayden's suite, but gradually it had

    dawned on him that he was still in danger, there was no U.S. Air Force jet

    waiting to fly him home at twice the speed of sound. Dadgar's message via

    Abolhasan, the appearance of Simons, and the new security precaution"is

    suite, Poch6 closing the curtains, the shuttling of the food-all made him

    realize that the escape had only just begun.

All the same, he enjoyed his steak dinner.

    Simons was still uneasy. The Hyatt was near the Evin Hotel where the U.S.

    military stayed, the Evin Prison, and an armory: all these were natural

    targets for the revolutionaries. Dadgar's phone call was also worrying.

    Plenty of Iranians knew that the EDS people were staying at the Hyatt:

    Dadgar could easily find out, and send men to search for Paul and Bill.

    While Simons, Coburn, and Bill were discussing this in the sitting room of

    the suite, the phone rang.

Simons stared at it.

It rdng again.

"Who the fuck knows we're here?" Simons said.

Coburn shrugged.

Simons picked up the phone and said: "Hello?"

There was a pause.

"Hello?"

He hung up. "Nobody there."

    At that moment Paul walked in in his pajamas. Simons said: "Change your

    clothes, we're going to leave."

"Why?" Paul protested.

Simons repeated: "Change your clothes, we're going to leave.

Paul shrugged and went back into the bedroom.

    Bill found it hard to believe. On the run again already! Somehow Dadgar was

    staying in authority through all the violence and chaos of the revolution.

    But who was working for him? The guards had fled the jails, the police

    stations had been burned, the army had surrendered--who was left to carry

    out Dadgar's orders?

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES 281

 

The devil and all his hordes, Bill thought.

    Simons went down to Gayden's suite while Paul was dressing. He got Gayden

    and Taylor in a comer. "Get all these turkeys out of here," he said in a

    low voice. "The story is, Paul and Bill are in bed for the night. You'll

    all come to our place tomorrow morning. Leave at seven o'clock, just as if

    you were going to the office. Don't pack any bags, don't check out, don't

    pay your hotel bill. Joe Poch6 will be waiting for you outside, and he'll

    have figured out a safe route to the house. I'm taking Paul and Bill there

    now-but don't tell the others that until the morning.

"Okay," &6d Gayden.

    Simons went back upstairs. Paul and Bill were ready. Coburn and PocM were

    waiting. The five of them walked to the elevator.

    As they were going down, Simons said: "Now, let's just walk out of here

    like it was the normal thing to do."

    They reached the ground floor. They walked across the vast lobby and out

    into the forecourt. The two Range Rovers were parked there.

    As they crossed the forecourt a big dark car drew up, and four or five

    ragged men with machine guns jumped out.

Coburn muttered: "Oh, shit."

The five Americans kept walking.

The revolutionaries ran over to the doorman.

    Poch6 threw open the doors of the first Range Rover. Paul and Bill jumped

    in. Pochd started the engine and pulled away fast. Simons and Coburn got

    into the second car and followed.

The revolutionaries went into the hotel.

    Poch6 headed down the Vanak Highway, which passed both the Hyatt and the

    Hilton. They could hear constant machine-gun fire over the sound of the car

    engines. A mile up the road, at the intersection with Pahlavi Avenue near

    to the Hilton, they ran into a roadblock.

    Poch6 pulled up. Bill looked around. He and Paul had come through this

    intersection a few hours earlier, with the Iranian couple who had brought

    them to the Hyatt; but then there had been no roadblock, just one

    burned-out car. Now there were several burning cars, a barricade, and a

    crowd of revolutionaries armed with an assortment of military firearms.

    One of them approached the Range Rover, and Joe Poch6 rolled down the

    window.

    "Where are you going?" the revolutionary said in perfect English.

282 Ken Follett

 

    "I'm going to my mother-in-law's house in Abbas Abad," Poch6 said.

Bill thought: My God, what an idiotic story to tell.

Paul was looking away, hiding his face.

    Another revolutionary came up and spoke in Farsi. The first man said: "Do

    you have any cigarettes?"

"No, I don't smoke," said Poch6.

"Okay, 90 ahead."

Pochi drove on down the Shahanshahi Expressway.

    Coburn pulled the second car forward to where the revolutionaries stood.

"Are you with diem?" he was asked.

"Yes."

"Do you have any cigarettes?"

    "Yes." Coburn took a pack out of his pocket and tried to shake out a

    cigarette. His hands were unsteady and he could not get one out.

Simons said: "Jay."

    Yes. 0 v

"Give him the fucking pack."

    Coburn gave the revolutionary the whole pack, and he waved them on.

 

    2

 

Ruthie Chiapparone was in bed, but awake, at the Nyfelers' house in Dallas

when the phone rang.

    She heard footsteps in the hall. The ringing stopped, and Jim Nyfeler's

    voice said: "Hello? ... Well, she's sleeping."

    "I'm awake," Ruthie caed. She got out of bed, slipped on a robe, and went

    into the hall.

    "It's Tom Walter's wife, Jean," said Jim, handing her the phone.

Ruthic said: "Hi, Jean."

    "Ruth, I have good news for you. The guys are free. IMey got out of

    jail."

"Oh, thank God!" said Ruthie.

    She had not yet begun to wonder how Paul would get out of Iran.

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES 283

 

When Emily Gaylord got back from church, her mother said: "Tom Walter called

from Dallas. I said you'd call back."

    Emily snatched up the phone, dialed EDS's number, and asked for Walter.

    "Hi, Em'ly," Walter drawled. "Paul and Bill got out of jail. "

"Tom, that's wonderful!"

    "There was a jailbreak. They're safe, and they're in good hands. 9 t

"When are they coming home?"

"We're not sure yet, but we'll keep you posted."

"Thank you, Tom," said Emily. "Thank you! I I

 

Ross Perot was in bed with Margot. The phone woke them both. Perot reached

out and picked it up. "Yes."

"Ross, this is Tom Walter. Paul and Bill got out of jail."

Suddenly Perot was wide awake. He sat up. "Thatts great!"

Margot said sleepily: "They're out?"

"Yes. 91

She smiled. "Oh, good!"

    Tom Walter was saying: "The jail was overrun by the revolutionaries, and

    Paul and Bill walked out."

Perot's mind was clicking into gear. "Where are they now?"

"At the hotel.-

"That's dangerous, Tom. Is Simons there?"

"Uh, when I was talking to diem, he was not there."

    "Tell them to call him. Taylor knows the number. And get them out of that

    hotel!"

"Yes, sir."

    "Call everyone into the office right away. I'll be there in a few minutes."

..Yes, Sir. 9,

    Perot hung up. He got out of bed, threw on some clothes, kissed Margot, and

    ran down the stairs. He went through the kitchen and out the back door. A

    security man, surprised to see him up so early, said: "Good morning, Mr.

    Perot."

    "Morning. " Perot decided to take Margo's Jaguar. He jumped in and raced

    down the driveway to the gate.

    For six weeks he had felt as if he were living inside a popcorn popper. He

    had been trying everything, and nothing had worked;

294 Ken Folleu

 

bad news had hit him from every direction, he had made no progress. Now, at

last, things were moving.

    He tore along Forest Lane, running red lights and breaking the speed limit.

    Getting them out of jad was the easy part, he reflected, now we have to get

    them out of Iran. The hard part hasn't even started.

    In the next few minutes the whole team gathered at EDS headquarters on

    Forest Lane: Tom Walter, T. J. Marquez, Merv Stauffer, Perot's secretary

    Sally Walther, lawyer Tom Luce, and Mitch Hart, wh"ough he no longer worked

    at ED"ad been trying to use his connections in the Democratic party to help

    Paul and Bill.

    Until now, conummications with the negotiating team in Tehran had been

    organized from Bill Gayden's office on the fifth floor, while on the

    seventh floor Merv Stauffer was quietly handling support and communications

    with the illegal rescue team, talking on the phone in code. Now they all

    realized that Simons was the key figure in Tehran, and that whatever hap-

    pened next would probably be illegal; so they moved up to Stauffer's

    office, which was also more private.

    "I'm going to go to Washington right away," Perot told them. "Our best hope

    is still an air force jet out of Tehran. "

    Stauffer said: "I don't know about flights to Washington from DFW on

    Sundays--

I 'Charter a jet, I I Perot said.

Stauffer picked up the phone.

    "We're going to need secretaries here twenty-four hours a day for the next

    few days," Perot went on.

"I'll see to that," said T.J.

    "Now, the military has promised to help us, but we can't rely on

    them.--they may have bigger fish to fry - The likeliest altemative is for

    the team to drive out via Turkey. In that event, the plan is for us to meet

    them at the border or if necessary fly into the northwest of Iran to pull

    them out. We need to assemble the Turkish Rescue Team. Boulware is already

    in Istanbul. Schwebach, Sculley, and Davis are in the States-sornebody call

    them and have the three of them meet me in Washington. We may also need a

    helicopter pilot and another pilot for small fixed-wing aimmd, in case we

    want to sneak into Iran. Sally, call Margot and ask her to pack me a

    case--I'H need casual clothes, a flashlight, all-weather boots, thermal

    underwear, a sleeping bag, and a tent."

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES 285

 

"Yes, sir. - Sally left the room.

    "Ross, I don't think that's a good idea," T.J. said. "Margot might got

    scared."

    Perot suppressed a sigh: it was just like T.J. to argue. But he was right.

    "Okay, I'll go home and do it myself. Come with me so we can talk while I'm

    packing."

"Sure. t,

    Stauffer put down the phone and said: "There's a Lear jet waiting for you

    at Love Field."

"Good."

    Perot and T.J. went downstairs and got in their cars. They left EDS and

    turned right on Forest Lane. A few seconds later T.J. looked at his

    speedometer and saw that he was doing eightyand Perot, in Margot's Jaguar,

    was losing him.

 

At Page Terminal in Washington, Perot ran into two old friends: Bill

Clements, Governor of Texas and former Deputy Secretary of Defense; and

Clements's wife, Rita.

    Clements said: "Hi, Ross! What the hell are you doing in Washington on a

    Sunday afternoon?"

"I'm up here on business," said Perot.

"No, what are you doing really?" said Clements with a grin.

"Have you got a minute?"

    Clements had a minute. The three of them sat down, and Perot told the story

    of Paul and Bill.

    When he had finished, Clements said: "There's a guy you need to talk to.

    I'll write down his name."

"How am I going to get him on a Sunday afternoon?"

"Hell, I'll get him."

    The two men walked over to a pay phone. Clements put in a coin, called the

    Pentagon switchboard, and identified himself. He asked to be put through to

    the home of one of the most senior military officers in the country. Then

    he said: "I've got Ross Perot hum Texas with me. He's a friend of mine and

    a good friend to the military, and I want, you to help him." Then he handed

    the phone to Perot and walked away.

 

Half an hour later Perot was in an operations room in the Pentagon basement,

surrounded by computer terminals, talking to half a dozen generals.

He had never met any of them before, but he felt he was

286 Ken Folleu

 

among friends: they all knew of his campaign for the American prisoners of

war in North Vietnam.

    "I want to get two men out of Tehran," Perot told them. "Can you fly them

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