“The ‘stuff’ you’re carrying? Is it anything important?”
“I don’t know. Some computers and lots of black boxes and papers - they keep me away from it but none of it’s dismantled by experts, just pulled out of walls, wires cut, and hanging loose and stacked carelessly. The only thing the workers’re interested in is stores, cigarettes particularly.” They had talked about escaping. Impossible to make plans. Too many imponderables. “I don’t know how long they want me to keep flying,” Erikki had said. “This bastard Cimtarga told me Prime Minister Bazargan has ordered the Yanks out of two sites, far to the east, near Turkey, the last they’ve got here, ordered them to evacuate at once and to leave the equipment intact. We’re supposed to fly up there tomorrow.”
“Did you use the 206 today?”
“No. That was Nogger Lane, one of our captains. He came here with us - to take the 206 back to Tehran. Our base manager told me they’ve co-opted Nogger to look at some places where fighting’s going on. When McIver doesn’t hear from us he’ll go into shock and send out a search party. That might give us another chance. What about you?”
“We might sneak off. I’m getting very nervous in that rotten little hut. If we evacuate, we might head for your base and hide out in the forest. If we can, we’ll contact you - but don’t expect us. All right?” “Yes - but don’t trust anyone at the base - except our two mechanics, Dibble and Arberry.” “Anything I can do for you?” “Could you leave me a grenade?” “Of course, have you ever used one?” “No, but I know how they work.” “Good. Here. Pull the pin and count to three - not four - and heave it. Do you need a gun?”
“No, no thanks. I’ve my knife - but the grenade might come in handy.” “Remember they can be rather messy. I’d better be going. Good luck.” Ross had been looking at Azadeh when he had said it, seeing how beautiful she was, so very aware that their time was already written among the stars or on the wind or in the chimes of the bells that were as much a part of the summer High Country as the peaks themselves. Wondering why she never replied to his letters, then the school telling him she had gone. Gone home. Gone. On their last day she had said, “All this that has come to pass may not come to pass again, my Johnny Brighteyes.”
“I know. If it doesn’t, I can die happy because I know what love is. Truly. I love you, Azadeh.”
Last kiss. Then down to his train and waving good-bye, waving until she was lost. Lost forever. Perhaps we both knew that it was forever, he thought, waiting here in the darkness of the little hut, trying to decide what to do, to wait more, to sleep or to flee. Maybe it’s as the Khan said and we’re safe here - for the moment. No reason to mistrust him completely. Vien Rosemont was no fool and he said to trust h - “Sahib!”
He had heard the stealthy footsteps at the same instant. Both men moved into ambush, one covering the other, both of them glad that the time for action had arrived. The door opened quietly. It was a ghoulish spirit of the mountain standing there peering into the greater darkness of the hut - a shape and vague face. To his astonishment he recognized Azadeh, the chador blending her with the night, her face puffy from crying.
“Johnny?” she whispered anxiously.
For a moment Ross did not move, gun still leveled and expecting enemies. “Azadeh, here, beside the door,” he whispered back, trying to adjust. “Quick, follow me, you’re both in danger! Hurry!” At once she ran off into the night.
He saw Gueng shake his head uneasily and he hesitated. Then he decided, grabbed his backpack. “We go.” He slid out of the doorway and ran after her, the moonlight small, Gueng following, flanking, automatically covering him. She was waiting beside some trees. Before he reached her, she beckoned him to follow, unerringly led the way through the orchard and around some farm buildings. The snow muffled their way but left tracks and he was very aware of them. He was ten paces behind her, watching the terrain carefully, wondering what danger and why had she been crying and where’s Erikki?
Clouds were toying with the moon, hiding it mostly. Whenever it came clear, she would stop and motion him to stop and to wait, then she would move on again, using cover well, and he wondered where she had learned woodsmanship then remembered Erikki and his great knife and Finns and Finland - land of lakes and forests and mountains and trolls and hunting. Concentrate, fool, time enough to let your mind wander later, not now when you’re endangering everyone! Concentrate!
His eyes searched, expecting trouble, wanting it to begin. Soon they were near the perimeter wall. The wall was ten feet high and made of hewn stone, with a wide, empty swath between it and the trees. Again she motioned him to stop in cover and walked forward into the open, seeking a special place. Finding it without trouble, she beckoned him. Before he was beside her she was already climbing, her feet fitting easily into the notches and cracks with sufficient handholds, some natural, some cleverly embedded to make the climb easy. The moon came into a bare patch of sky and he felt naked and climbed more quickly. When he reached the top she was already halfway down the other side. He slithered over and found some footholds, ducked down to wait for Gueng. His anxiety mounted until he saw the shadow darting over the ground, reaching the wall safely.
The climb down was more difficult and he slipped and fell the last six feet, cursed and looked around to get his bearings. She was already across the boundary road and heading for a rocky outcrop on the steep mountainside two hundred yards away. Below and to the left he could see part of Tabriz, fires on the far side of the city near the airport. Now he could hear distant guns.
Gueng landed neatly beside him, grinned and motioned him onward. When he reached the outcrop she had vanished.
“Johnny! Here!”
He saw the small crack in the rock and went forward. Just enough room to squeeze through. He waited until Gueng came up, and then went through the rock into darkness. Her hand came out and guided him to one side. She beckoned Gueng and did the same for him, then moved a heavy leather curtain across the crack. Ross reached into his pack for his flash but before he could pull it out the match flamed. Her hand was cupped around it. She was kneeling and lit the candle that was in a niche. Quickly he looked around. The curtain over the entrance seemed lightproof, the cave spacious, warm and dry, some blankets, old carpets on the ground, a few drinking and eating utensils - some books and toys on a natural shelf. Ah, a child’s hideout, he thought, and looked back at her. She had stayed kneeling by the candle, her back to him, and now, as she pulled the chador away from her head, she became Azadeh again.
“Here.” He offered her some water from his water bottle. She accepted it gratefully but avoided his eyes. He glanced at Gueng and read his mind. “Azadeh, do you mind if we put the light out - now that we see where we are - then we can pull the curtain back and keep watch and hear better. I’ve a flash if we need it.”
“Oh, oh, yes… yes, of course.” She turned back to the candle. “I… oh, just a minute, sorry…” There was a mirror on the shelf he had not noticed. She picked it up and peered at herself, hated what she saw, the streaks of sweat and puffy eyes. Hastily she brushed away some smudges, picked up the comb and tidied herself as best she could. A final check in the mirror and she blew out the candle. “Sorry,” she said.
Gueng moved the curtain away and went through the rock and stood there listening. More gunfire from the city. A few buildings burning beyond the single runway of the airfield below and to the right. No lights there and very few on in the city itself. A few car headlights in the streets. The palace still dark and silent and he could sense no danger. He came back and told Ross what he had seen, speaking Gurkhali, and added, “Better I stay outside, safer, there’s not much time, sahib.”