“Sorry I had to duck your questions but, well, now you’ll understand.” “The moment I heard, I understood, of course. Health!” Kasigi drank the mineral water thirstily. “Now that Whirlwind’s out of the way, Mr. Gavallan, perhaps you can help me solve my problems at Iran-Toda?”
“I’d like to, of course, but I can’t. I’m very sorry but we can’t. It’s not possible. Just not possible, that must be obvious now.”
“Perhaps it can be made possible.” Kasigi’s eyes did not waver. “I’ve heard that sunset tonight is a firm deadline to have your airplanes out or they will be impounded.”
Politely Gavallan gestured with his hand. “Let’s hope it’s just another rumor.”
“One of your embassy officials informed our ambassador that this was definite. It would be a tragedy to lose all your aircraft after so much success.”
“Definite? You’re certain?” Gavallan felt empty.
“My ambassador was certain.” Kasigi put on a nice smile. “Say I could get your deadline extended from sunset tonight to sunset tomorrow, could you solve my problems at Iran-Toda?”
Both men stared at him. “Can you extend our deadline, Mr. Kasigi?” “I can’t but our ambassador might be able to. I have an appointment with him in an hour. I will ask him - perhaps he could influence the Iranian ambassador, or the Sheik, or both.” Kasigi saw Gavallan’s immediate interest and let that hang in the air, far too experienced a fisherman in Western waters not to know the bait. “I’m in Captain Scragger’s debt. I haven’t forgotten he saved my life, went out of his way to fly me to Bandar Delam. Friends shouldn’t forget friends, should they? At Ambassador Level… perhaps it could be done.”
The Japanese ambassador? My God, would it be possible - Gavallan’s heart was racing with hope at the unexpected avenue. “There’s no way ours can do anything, my contact was quite clear. I’d appreciate any help I could get, I certainly would. You think he’d help?”
“If he wanted to, I think he could.” Kasigi sipped the brandy. “As you can help us. My chairman asked to be remembered to you and mentioned your mutual friend Sir Ian Dunross.” He saw Gavallan’s eyes react and added, “They had dinner together two nights ago.”
“If I can help… just exactly what are your problems?” And where’s the catch and what’s the cost? Gavallan thought. And where’s Ian? Three times I’ve tried to reach him and failed.
“I need three 212s and two 206s at Iran-Toda as soon as possible, under contract for a year. It’s essential the plant gets completed and the local komiteh has promised me full cooperation - if we start at once. If not at once it will be disastrous.”
Last night Chief Engineer Watanabe at Iran-Toda had sent him a coded telex. “Komiteh chief Zataki is like a mad shark over the S-G hijacking. His ultimatum: either we resume construction at once - for which we must have helicopters - or the whole plant will face immediate possession and nationalization and ‘all foreigners here will face retribution for treason.’ D hour is after sunset prayers Sunday fourth, when I am to appear before the komiteh. Please advise.”
Urgent telephone calls most of the night to Osaka and Tokyo had only served to increase Kasigi’s rage. “Yoshi, my dear friend,” his cousin and overlord Hiro Toda had said with devastating politeness, “I’ve consulted the Syndicate. We all agree we’re fortunate you’re there on the spot. It’s up to you. We’re completely confident that you will solve these problems - before you leave.”
The message was quite clear: solve it or don’t come back. He had spent the rest of the night trying to find a way out of his dilemma. Then, with the dawn, he had remembered a chance remark that the Japanese ambassador had made about the new Iranian ambassador that gave him a possible means to solve Gavallan’s deadline and his own problem. “To be quite blunt and open, Mr. Gavallan,” he said and almost laughed aloud at so stupid a remark - but so necessary in Western negotiations, “I need a plan by tomorrow sunset and answers by tomorrow sunset.”
“Why then, may I ask?”
“Because I made commitments to a friend that I must honor which of course you’d understand,” Kasigi said. “So we both have a deadline, the same one.” Then he judged the time correct and struck hard to make sure the hook was firm. “If you can help me, I would forever appreciate it. Of course I’ll do everything to persuade my ambassador to help you anyway.” “There’s no point in offering any of our birds, they’d be impounded instantly, no point in offering you the 206s we left behind - they’re sure to be hors de combat too. S-G’s totally out, so’s Bell, Guerney or any of the other companies. Could you get Japanese nationals who’re helicopter pilots?”
“No. There’re none trained.” Not yet, Kasigi thought, again furious with the Syndicate for not having the foresight to train their own trustworthy people for the job. “The personnel will have to be foreign. My ambassador could smooth visas, and so forth - of course you know Iran-Toda’s a National Project,” he added, the exaggeration not bothering him. It soon will be when all the information I have gets into the right hands. “What about French or German crews?”
With an effort Gavallan tore his mind off how Ambassador Level could lead to his own men and choppers being safe, how he would then be out of Linbar’s trap and free to deal with Imperial Helicopters in the North Sea, the Hong Kong crisis, the early retirement of Linbar, and positioning Scot for a future takeover. “So many wonderful possibilities,” he said involuntarily, then covered himself quickly and concentrated on solving Iran-Toda. “There are two parts to the problem. First, equipment and spares: if you could provide a letter of credit at our usual monthly rate, renewable as long as you keep the planes - wherever I can get them from - with a guarantee that if the Iran authorities impound them you’ll assume all lease payments in dollars outside of Iran and reimburse the owners against a total loss, I could get them to Iran-Toda within… within a week.”
Kasigi said at once, “Our bankers are the Sumitomo; I could arrange a meeting with them here this evening. That’s no problem. Where would you get the airplanes?”
“Germany or France - can’t use British or American. Same for the pilots. Probably France’s better because of their help to Khomeini. I might be able to get them through some friends at Aerospatiale. What about insurance? It’ll be impossible for me to get you insurance in Iran.” “Perhaps I could do that from Japan.”
“Good. I’d hate to fly uninsured birds. Next: Scrag, say we can get the aircraft, how many pilots and mecs’d you need?”
“Well, Andy, if you could get them, you’d best have eight to ten pilots, rostering, and ten to fourteen mecs, based outside Iran but close by.” “Who’d pay them, Mr. Kasigi? In what currency and where?” “Whatever currency they wanted, wherever and however. Standard rates?” “I’d think you’d have to offer a ‘danger cost-of-living bonus,’ Iran being what it is.”
“Would you consider arranging the whole matter for me, Mr. Gavallan, the equipment and the personnel, for say a 10 percent override?” “Forget percentages and remember our involvement’d have to be kept very quiet. I’d suggest this: your operation should be controlled - logistics, spares, and repairs - from Kuwait or Bahrain.”
“Bahrain’d be better, Andy,” Scragger said.
“Kuwait’s much closer,” Kasigi said.
“Yes,” Scragger said, “so more liable for pressure from Iran or Iran-sponsored unrest. This side of the Gulf’s due for a battering, I think. Too many Shi’as who’re usually poor, too many sheiks who’re Sunni. Short term or long term you’re better off in Bahrain.”