Whirlwind (94 page)

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Authors: James Clavell

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BOOK: Whirlwind
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erikki broke a silence. "if the message's correct, the khan won't trust that matyeryebyets at all."

 

 

"yes, erikki. but my father trusts no one. no one at all. if father's playing both sides as johnny thinks there's no telling what he'll do. johnny, who gave you the message to give to him?"

 

 

"a cia agent who said i could trust your father with my life."

 

 

erikki said witheringly, "i always knew the cia were... were crazy."

 

 

"this one was all right," ross said more sharply than he meant. he saw erikki flush and her smile vanish.

 

 

another silence. more jagged. the moonlight in the room faded as the moon went behind a bank of cloud. it was uneasy in the gloom. gueng who had watched and listened felt the increased disquiet and he silently called on all gods to extricate them from medusas, the pagan devil with snakes for hair that the missionaries had taught about in his first school in nepal. then his special sense felt the approaching danger, he hissed a warning and went to the window and peered out. two armed guards with a doberman pinscher on a leash were coming up the staircase opposite.

 

 

the others were equally rigid now. they heard the guards pad along the terrace, the dog sniffing and straining on the leash. then go toward the outside door. again it creaked open. the men came into the building.

 

 

muffled voices outside the door of the bedroom and the sound of the dog snuffling. then near the door of the anteroom. gueng and ross moved into ambush, kookris ready. in time the guards moved down the corridor, out of the building and down the staircase again. azadeh shifted nervously. "they don't come here normally. ever."

 

 

ross whispered back hastily, "maybe they saw us coming up here. we'd better leave. if you hear firing, you don't know us. if we're still free tomorrow

 

 

night, could we come here, say just after midnight? we could perhaps make a plan?"

 

 

"yes," erikki said. "but make it earlier. cimtarga warned me we might have to leave before dawn. make it around 11:00 p.m. we'd better have several plans ready to get out is going to be very difficult, very."

 

 

"how long will you be working for them before you're finished?"

 

 

"i don't know. perhaps three or four days."

 

 

"good. if we don't make contact with you forget us. okay?"

 

 

"god protect you, johnny," azadeh told him anxiously. "don't trust my father, you mustn't let him... mustn't let him or them take you."

 

 

ross smiled and it lit up the room, even for erikki. "no problem good luck to all of us." he waved a devil-may-care salute and opened the door. in a few seconds he and gueng were gone as quietly as they had arrived. erikki watched out of the window and saw them only as shadows going down the steps, noting how cleverly and silently the two men used the night, envying ross his careless elegance of manner and movement.

 

 

azadeh was standing alongside him, a head smaller, her arm around his waist, also watching. after a moment, his arm went around her shoulders. they waited, expecting shouting and firing, but the night remained undisturbed. the moon came out from the clouds again. no movement anywhere. he glanced at his watch. it was 4:23.

 

 

he looked at the sky, no sign of any dawn yet. at dawn he had to leave, not to the north face of sabalan but to other radar sites farther west. cimtarga had told him that the cia still operated certain sites nearer the turkish border but that today the khomeini government had ordered them closed, evacuated, and left intact. "they'll never do that," erikki had said. "never."

 

 

"perhaps, perhaps not." cimtarga had laughed. "the moment we get orders, you and i will just fly there with my 'tribesmen' and hurry them up..."

 

 

matyer! and matyer johnny brighteyes arriving to complicate our lives. even so, thank all gods for the warning he brought. what's abdollah planning for azadeh? i should kill that old swine and have done with it. yes, but i can't, i swore by the ancient gods an oath that may not be broken, not to touch her father as he himself swore by the one god not to hinder us though he'll find a way to break that oath. can i do the same? no. an oath is an oath. like the one you swore to her that you could live happily with her. knowing about him him didn't you? his mind blackened and he was glad of the darkness.

 

 

so the kgb plan to kidnap me. if it's a real plan i'm done for. azadeh? what's that devil abdollah planning for her now? and now this johnny arrives to harass us all i never thought he'd be so good-looking and tough and no man to mix with, him with that sodding great knife, killing knife...

 

 

"come back to bed, erikki," she said. "it's very cold, isn't it?"

 

 

he nodded and followed and got in his side, greatly troubled. when they were back under the great quilt, she snuggled against him. not enough to provoke a reaction but just enough to appear normal and untouched. "how extraordinary to find it was him, erikki! john ross in the street i certainly wouldn't have recognized him. oh, that was such a long time ago, i'd forgotten all about him. i'm so pleased you married me, erikki," she said, her voice calm and loving, sure that his mind was grinding her long-lost love to dust. "i feel so safe with you if it hadn't been for you i would have died of fright." she said it as though expecting an answer. but i don't expect one, my darling, she thought contentedly and sighed.

 

 

he heard her sigh and wondered what it meant, feeling her warmth against him, loathing the rage that possessed him. was it because she's sorry she had smiled at her lover as she did? or is she furious with me she must have seen my jealousy. or is she saddened that i have forgotten my oath, or is she hating me because i hate that man? i swear i'll exorcise him from her...

 

 

ah, johnny brighteyes, she was thinking, what ecstasy i enjoyed in your arms, even the first time when it was supposed to hurt, but it never did. just a pain that became a burning that became a melting that tore away life and gave life back to me again, better than before, oh, how so much better than before! and then erikki...

 

 

it was much warmer now under the quilt. her hand went across his loins. she felt him move slightly and she hid her smile, sure that her warmth was reaching him now, so easy to warm him further. but unwise. very unwise, for then she knew he would only take her with johnny in the forefront of his mind, taking her to spite johnny and not to love her perhaps even thinking that in her acquiescence she was feeling guilty and was trying to make up for her guilt. oh, no, my love, i'm not a foolish child, you're the guilty one, not me. and though you'd be stronger than usual and more rough, which would normally increase my pleasure, this time it would not, for, like it or not, i would resist even more than you, aware of my other love. so, my darling, it is ten thousand times better to wait. until the dawn. by then, my darling, if i'm lucky you will have persuaded yourself that you are wrong to hate and be jealous and you will be my erikki again. and if you haven't? then i will begin again there are ten thousand ways to heal my man. "i love you, erikki," she said and kissed the cloth that covered his chest, turned over, and settled her back against him and went into sleep, smiling.

 

 

at kowiss air base: 8:11 a.m. freddy ayre bunched his fists. "no, by god! you heard mciver's orders: if starke's not back by dawn all flights are grounded. it's past eight o'clock and starke's not back so all fl "

 

 

"you will obey my flight orders!" esvandiary, the iranoil manager, shouted at him, his voice echoing around the s-g base. "i've ordered you to deliver a new mud tank and pipe under guerney's contract to rig si "

 

 

"no flying until captain starke's back!" ayre snarled. they were on the flight line near the three 212s that esvandiary had scheduled for today's operations, the three pilots geared and ready since dawn, the rest of the expats watching in varying degrees of nervousness or anger. around them were a truckload of hostile green bands and servicemen from the base who had just arrived with esvandiary. four of zataki's men squatted near the choppers but none of them had moved since the quarrel had erupted though all of them were watching closely. "all flights are grounded!" ayre repeated.

 

 

furiously esvandiary called out in farsi, "these foreigners refuse to obey legitimate orders of iranoil." a mutter of anger went through his supporters,

 

 

536 names clavell

 

 

guns covered the expats, and he stabbed a finger at ayre. "they need an example!"

 

 

without warning rough hands grabbed ayre, and the beating began. one of the pilots, sandor petrofi, rushed forward to intervene but he was shoved back, slipped, and was kicked back to the others who were helpless under the guns.

 

 

"stop it!" pop kelly, the tall captain, shouted out, his face chalky. "leave ayre alone, we'll fly the missions!"

 

 

"good." esvandiary told his men to stop. they dragged ayre to his feet. "get all flights under way. at once!"

 

 

when the flights were airborne he dismissed the expats roughly. "there'll be no more mutinies against the islamic state. by god, all orders of iranoil will will be obeyed instantly." very satisfied with himself that he had put down the mutiny as he had promised the camp commandant, he strode into the main office, down the corridor into starke's office that he had commandeered, and stood at the window surveying his domain.

 

 

he saw two choppers well away now, the third was hovering twenty feet over the mud tank a hundred yards away, waiting for the ground crew to link its skyhook into the big steel ring that topped the hawsers. in front of the of rice ayre, surrounded by other expats, was being succored by doc nutt. rotten bastard to give me so much trouble, esvandiary thought, and glanced at his watch, admiring it. it was a gold rolex that he had bought on the black market this morning as befitted his increased stature, the money pishkesh from a bazaar) who wanted his son to join iranoil.

 

 

"do you need anything, excellency?" pavoud asked unctuously from the doorway. "may i add my congratulations for the way that you handled the foreigners. for years they've all needed a good beating to put them in their places, how wise you were."

 

 

"yes. from now on the base will run smoothly. the moment there's a problem, whoever's in charge will be made an example of. praise god that son of a dog zataki leaves in an hour with his thugs for abadan."

 

 

"that's one flight that will leave on time, excellency." both men laughed.

 

 

"yes. bring me some tea, pavoud." deliberately esvandiary left out the normal politeness and noted the man's humility increase. he stared out of the window again. doc nutt was dabbing a cut over ayre's eye. i enjoyed watching freddy being beaten, he thought. yes, yes, i did.

 

 

in the chill wind doc nutt had wrapped a spare parka around ayre. "you'd better come over to the surgery, laddie," he said.

 

 

"i'm all right," ayre said, hurting all over. "don't think... don't think anything's damaged."

 

 

"bastards," someone said. "freddy, we'd better figure how we're going to get to hell out of here."

 

 

"it's me on the first plane out... i'm not going to risk an "

 

 

they all looked off as the jet engines of the chopper hovering over the mud tank picked up tempo. getting such a heavy load airborne was tricky particularly in this wind but no problem for a professional like sandor. the hook went in first time and the moment the ground crew had their hands clear, he increased power, the engines screamed at a higher pitch, taking the strain, then chopper and load eased into the sky. the guard in the front seat beside sandor waved excitedly as did the one in the cabin.

 

 

"you're doing fine, captain... no sweat," came into sandor's headphones from wazari in their tower, sandor estimating the distance, gaining height, his hands and feet perfectly coordinated seeing only esvandiary at the office window, still maddened by ayre's savage beating by many armed men at the orders of a coward. it took him back in time to his childhood in budapest during the hungarian revolution. he had been helpless then but not now.

 

 

"you're okay, hfd, but kinda close." wazari's voice cautioned him. "you're kinda close, ease south..."

 

 

sandor increased power, moving toward the tower that topped the office building. "is the load okay?" he asked. "feels strange."

 

 

"looks fine, no sweat, but ease south as you climb. everything five by five... ease south, do you read me?"

 

 

"you sure, for crissake? she feels sluggish as all hell..." the needle climbed through a hundred feet. sandor's face closed and his hand snapped the stick right, at the same time he gave her hard right rudder. at once the chopper reeled sickeningly, the guard in the seat beside him was thrown off balance; he bashed against the door, then grabbed sandor, trying to steady himself, and tangled with the controls. again sandor overcorrected, cursing the guard as though the petrified man was a real hazard.

 

 

for a moment it seemed that the gathering swing would take the chopper out of the sky, then sandor shoved the frantic guard away. "mayday load's shifted," he shouted, his ears shut to wazari, eyes concentrating below, oblivious of everything except the need for revenge. "load's shifted!"

 

 

his hand pulled the emergency load release, the hook freed, the steel tank plummeted out of the sky directly onto the office. the ton and a half of steel smashed through the roof, pulverising rafters and walls and glass and metal and desks, obliterating the whole corner, and came to rest upended against the remains of the inner wall.

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