“Put down your hands down,” he said in heavily accented English. “I am Sheik Bayazid, chief here. We need you and helicopter.”
“What do you want with me?”
Around them the tribesmen were finishing off the wounded and stripping the dead of anything of value. “CASEVAC.” Bayazid smiled thinly at the look on Erikki’s face. “Many of us work the oil and rigs. Who is this dog?” He motioned at Cimtarga with his foot.
“He called himself Cimtarga. He was a Soviet. I think also KGB.” “Of course Soviet,” the man said roughly. “Of course KGB - all Soviets in Iran KGB. Papers, please.” Erikki gave him his ID. The tribesman read it and nodded half to himself. And, to Erikki’s further surprise, handed it back. “Why you flying Soviet dog?” He listened silently, his face darkening as Erikki told him how Abdollah Khan had entrapped him. “Abdollah Khan no man to offend. The reach of Abdollah the Cruel very wide, even in the lands of the Kurds.”
“You’re Kurds?”
“Kurds,” Bayazid said, the lie convenient. He knelt and searched Cimtarga. No papers, a little money that he pocketed, nothing else. Except the holstered automatic and ammunition which he also took. “Have you full fuel?” “Three quarter full.”
“I want go twenty miles south. I direct you. Then pick up CASEVAC, then go Rezaiyeh, to hospital there.”
“Why not Tabriz - it’s much closer.”
“Rezaiyeh in Kurdistan. Kurds are safe there, sometimes. Tabriz belong to our enemies: Iranians, Shah, or Khomeini no difference. Go Rezaiyeh.” “All right. The Overseas Hospital would be best. I’ve been there before and they’ve a helipad. They’re used to CASEVACs. We can refuel there - they’ve chopper fuel, at least they had in … in the old days.”
Bayazid hesitated. “Good. Yes. We go at once.”
“And after Rezaiyeh - what then?”
“And then, if serve us safely, perhaps you released to take your wife from the Gorgon Khan.” Sheik Bayazid turned away and shouted for his men to hurry up and board the airplane. “Start up, please.”
“What about him?” Erikki pointed at Cimtarga. “And the others?” “The beasts and birds soon make here clean.”
It took them little time to board and leave, Erikki rilled with hope now. No problem to find the site of the small village. The CASEVAC was an old woman. “She is our chieftain,” Bayazid said.
“I didn’t know women could be chieftains.”
“Why not, if wise enough, strong enough, clever enough, and from correct family? We Sunni Muslims - not leftists or heretic Shi’a cattle who put mullahs between man and God. God is God. We leave at once.” “Does she speak English?”
“No.”
“She looks very ill. She may not last the journey.”
“As God wants.”
But she did last the hour’s journey and Erikki landed on the helipad. The Overseas Hospital had been built, staffed, and sponsored by foreign oil companies. He had flown low all the way, avoiding Tabriz and military airfields. Bayazid had sat up front with him, six armed guards in the back with their high chieftain. She lay on the stretcher, awake but motionless. In great pain but without complaining.
A doctor and orderlies were at the helipad seconds after touchdown. The doctor wore a white coat with a large red cross on the sleeve over heavy sweaters, and he was in his thirties, American, dark rings around bloodshot eyes. He knelt beside the stretcher as the others waited in silence. She groaned a little when he touched her abdomen even though his hands were healing hands. In a moment he spoke to her gently in halting Turkish. A small smile went over her and she nodded and thanked him. He motioned to the orderlies and they lifted the stretcher out of the cabin and carried her away. At Bayazid’s order, two of his men went with her.
The doctor said to Bayazid in halting dialect, “Excellency, I need name and age and…” He searched for the word. “History, medical history.” “Speak English.”
“Good, thank you, Agha. I’m Doctor Newbegg. I’m afraid she’s near the end, Agha, her pulse is almost zero. She’s old and I’d say she was hemorrhaging - bleeding - internally. Did she have a fall recently?”
“Speak slower, please. Fall? Yes, yes, two days ago.” Bayazid stopped at the sound of gunfire not far away, then went on: “Yes, two days ago. She slip in snows and fell against a rock, on her side against a rock.” “I think she’s bleeding inside. I’ll do what we can but… sorry, I can’t promise good news.”
“Insha’Allah.”
“You’re Kurds?”
“Kurds.” More firing, closer now. They all looked off to where the sound came from. “Who?”
“I don’t know, just more of the same, I’m afraid,” the doctor said uneasily. “Green Bands against leftists, leftists against Green Bands, against Kurds - many factions - and all’re armed.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’ll do what I can for the old lady - perhaps you’d better come with me, Agha, you can give me the details as we go.” He hurried off.
“Doc, do you still have fuel here?” Erikki called after him. The doctor stopped and looked at him blankly. “Fuel? Oh, chopper fuel? I don’t know. Gas tank’s in back.” He went up the stairs to the main entrance, his white coattail flapping.
“Captain,” Bayazid said, “you will wait till I return. Here.” “But the fuel? I ca - ”
“Wait here. Here.” Bayazid rushed after the doctor. Two of his men went with him. Two stayed with Erikki.
While Erikki waited, he checked everything. Tanks almost empty. From time to time cars and trucks arrived with wounded to be met by doctors and medics. Many eyed the chopper curiously but none approached. The guards made sure of that.
During the flight here Bayazid had said: “For centuries we Kurds try for independent. We a separate people, separate language, separate customs. Now perhaps six million Kurds in Azerbaijan, Kurdistan, over Soviet border, this side of Iraq, and Turkey.” He had almost spat the word. “For centuries we fight them all, together or singly. We hold the mountains. We are good fighters. Salah-al-din - he was Kurd. You know of him?” Salah-al-din - Saladin - was the chivalrous Muslim opponent of Richard the Lion-Hearted during the Crusades of the twelfth century, who made himself Sultan of Egypt and Syria and captured the Kingdom of Jerusalem in A.D. 1187 after smashing the allied might of the Crusaders.
“Yes, I know of him.”
“Today other Salah-al-dins among us. One day we recapture again all the holy places - after Khomeini, betrayer of Islam, is stamped into joub.” Erikki had asked, “You ambushed Cimtarga and the others and wiped them out just for the CASEVAC?”
“Of course. They enemy. Yours and ours.” Bayazid had smiled his twisted smile. “Nothing happens in our mountains without us knowing. Our chieftain sick - you nearby. We see the Americans leave, see scavengers arrive, and you were recognized.”
“Oh? How?”
“Redhead of the Knife? The Infidel who kills assassins like lice, then given a Gorgon whelp as reward! CASEVAC pilot?” The dark, almost sloe eyes were amused. “Oh, yes, Captain, know you well. Many of us work timber as well as oil - a man must work. Even so, it’s good you not Soviet or Iranian.” “After the CASEVAC will you and your men help me against Gorgon Khan?” Bayazid had laughed. “Your blood feud is your blood feud, not ours. Abdollah Khan is for us, at moment. We not go against him. What you do is up to God.” It was cold in the hospital forecourt, a slight wind increasing the chill factor. Erikki was walking up and down to keep his circulation going. I’ve got to get back to Tabriz. I’ve got to get back and then somehow I’ll take Azadeh and we’ll leave forever.