“Why should it - for of course you would tell them proudly you just got the passport, and kept it secret, against the day you could put it to use for the good of the Pahlavis. Eh?”
“Of course!”
“Open your eyes to the ways of the world, my son - the promises of kings have no value, they can plead expedience. If this Shah or the next, or even your great general has to choose between your life and something of more value to them, which would they choose? Put no trust in princes, or generals, or politicians, they will sell you, your family, and your heritage for a pinch of salt to put on a plate of rice they won’t even bother to taste….”
And oh how true! Carter sold us out and his generals, then the Shah and his generals, and our generals did the same to us. But how could they be so stupid as to assassinate themselves? he asked himself, shuddering at the thought of how close he had been to death in Isfahan. They must have all gone mad!
“It’s cold in the shade,” Lochart said.
“Yes, yes, it is. “Ali looked back at him and shook off his anxiety. Generals are all the same. My father was right. Even these two bastards Valik or Seladi, they’d have sold us all if need be, still will. They need me because I’m the only one who can fly them - apart from this poor fool who doesn’t know he’s in dead trouble. “Get rid of this Lochart,” Seladi had said. “Why take him to safety? He would have left us at Isfahan, why not leave him here? Dead. We can’t leave him alive, he knows us all and he’d betray us all.”
“No, Excellency Uncle,” Valik had said. “He’s more use as a gift to the Kuwaitis, or Iraqis, they can jail him or extradite him. It was he who stole an Iranian helicopter and agreed for money to fly us out. Didn’t he?” “Yes. Even so, he can still give our names to the revolutionaries.” “By that time we will all be safe and our families safe.” “I say dispose of him - he would have sacrificed us. Dispose of him and we will go to Baghdad, not Kuwait.”
“Please, Excellency, reconsider. Lochart is the more experienced pilot….” Ali glanced at his watch. Just thirty minutes to takeoff. He saw Lochart glance at the house where Valik, Seladi were. I wonder who won, Valik or Seladi? Is it the inside of a Kuwaiti or Iraqi jail for this poor joker, or a bullet in the head? I wonder if they’ll bury him after they shoot him or just leave him to the vultures. “What’s the matter?” Lochart asked. “Nothing. Nothing, Captain, just thinking how lucky we were to escape Isfahan.”
“Yes, I still think I owe you my life.” Lochart was certain that if Ali and the major hadn’t released him he would have ended up before a komiteh kangaroo court. And if he was caught now? The same. He had not allowed his mind to think about Sharazad or Tehran or to make a plan. That comes later, he told himself again. Once you see how this turns out and where you end up. Where’re they planning to go? Kuwait? Or maybe just a quick stab over the border into Iraq? Iraq’s usually hostile to Iranians so that might be dicey for them. Kuwait’s an easy flight from here and most Kuwaitis are Sunni and therefore anti-Khomeini. Against that, to get there, you have to sneak through a lot of sensitive airspace, Iranian and Iraqi, both nervous, jumpy, and trigger-happy. Within fifty miles there must be twenty Iranian air bases, fighter operational, with planes gassed up and dozens of petrified pilots anxious to prove loyalty to the new regime.
And what about your promise to McIver not to fly them the last leg? Because of Isfahan you’re marked now - there’s no way the revs will have forgotten your name or the registration of the airplane. Did you see anyone write your name down? No, I don’t think so. Even so, you’d better get out while you can, you’re implicated in an escape, men were killed at Isfahan - whichever way you stack it you’re marked.
What about Sharazad? I can’t leave her. You may have to. She’s safe in Tehran. What if they come looking for you and Sharazad answers the door and they take her away in place of you?
“I could use a cold drink,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry. “You think they have a Coke or something?”
“I’ll go see.” They both looked off as Valik’s children came bounding up the path from the lake, Annoush close behind them. “Ah,” she said to them with her happy smile, but dark shadows around her eyes, “it is a wonderful day, isn’t it? We’re so lucky.”
“Yes,” both said and wondered how such a woman could marry such a man. She was very good to look at and as beautiful a mother as could be. “Captain Abbasi, where’s my husband?” “In the house, Highness, with the others,” Ali said. “May I escort you, I was just going there?” “Would you find him for me, please, and ask him to join me?” Ali did not wish to leave her alone with Lochart, for she had been present when Valik and Seladi had told him of their plans, asking his advice about their destination - though not about Lochart’s elimination, that had come later. “I wouldn’t want to disturb the general by myself, Highness, perhaps we could go together.”
“You will please find him for me.” She was as imperious as the general, though kindly and without insult.
Ali shrugged. Insha’Allah, he thought, and went off. When they were quite alone, her two children running around the shed, playing hide-and-seek, Annoush touched Lochart gently. “I haven’t thanked you for our lives, Tommy.”
Lochart was startled. This was the first time she had ever called him by his first name - he had always been “Captain Lochart” or “my cousin-in-law” or “His Excellency, the husband of Sharazad.” “I was glad to help.” “I know that you and dear old Mac did it for the children and me - don’t look so surprised, my dear, I know my husband’s strengths and… and his weaknesses - what wife doesn’t?” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I know what this means for you too - you’ve jeopardized your life, Sharazad’s, your future in Iran, perhaps your company.”
“Not Sharazad’s. No, she’s perfectly safe. Her father, Excellency Bakravan, will keep her safe until she can get out. Of course she’s safe.” He saw Annoush’s brown eyes and read behind her eyes and his soul twisted. “I pray that with all my heart, Tommy, and beg God to grant that wish.” She dabbed her tears away. “I’ve never been so sad in all my life. I never knew I could be so sad - sad to be running away, sad for that poor soldier dying in the snow, sad for all our families and friends who have to stay, sad because no one’s safe in Iran anymore. I’m so afraid most of our circle will be persecuted by the mullahs, we’ve always been - what shall I say? Too modem and… too progressive. No one’s safe here anymore - not even Khomeini himself.”
Lochart heard himself say, “Insha’Allah,” but he wasn’t listening to her, suddenly petrified that he would never see Sharazad again, never be able to get back into Iran or her able to get out. “It will be normal again soon, travel permitted and everything okay. Of course it will. In a few months, it’s got to be. Of course it will be normal soon.”
“I hope so, Tommy, for I love your Sharazad and would hate not being able to see her and the little one.”
“Eh?” He gaped at her.
“Oh, but of course you wouldn’t know,” she said, then brushed the last of her tears away. “It was too soon for you to know. Sharazad told me she’s sure she’s carrying her firstborn.”
“But…but, well she…” He stopped helplessly, aghast, at the same time ecstatic. “She can’t be!”
“Oh, she wasn’t sure yet, Tommy, but she felt she was. Sometimes a woman can tell - you feel so different, so very different and so wonderful, so fulfilled,” she added, her voice now joyous.
Lochart was trying to get his mind working, completely aware that it would be impossible for her to understand the turmoil she was creating in him. God in heaven, he thought, Sharazad?