Erikki’s voice grated. “If you or anyone touches her I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll tear you to pieces.”
“I agree it must be difficult to have such a wife. Better to have an ugly one than one such as her - unless she’s kept in purdah. Now do you want to see her or not?” “What do I have to do?”
Irritably the major said, “Be calm, controlled, and no longer stupid.” To the sergeant he said in Turkish, “Go and fetch her.”
Erikki’s mind was expecting disaster or a trick. Then he saw her at the end of the corridor, and that she was whole, and he almost wept with relief, and so did she. “Oh, Erikki…”
“Both of you listen to me,” the major said curtly. “Even though you’ve both caused us a great deal of inconvenience and embarrassment, I’ve decided you were both telling the truth so you will be sent at once with a guard to Istanbul, discreetly, and handed over to your ambassador, discreetly - to be expelled, discreetly.”
They stared at him, dumbfounded. “We’re to be freed?” she said, holding on to the bars.
“At once. We expect your discretion - and that’s part of the bargain. You will have to agree formally in writing. Discretion.
That means no leaks, no public or private crowing about your escape or escapades. You agree?”
“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” Azadeh said. “But there’s, there’s no trick?” “No.”
“But…but why? Why after… why’re you letting us go?” Erikki stumbled over the words, still not believing him.
“Because I tested both of you, you both passed the tests, you committed no crimes that we would judge crimes - your oaths are between you and God and not subject to any court - and, fortunately for you, the warrant was illegal and therefore unacceptable. Komiteh!” he muttered disgustedly, then noticed the way they were looking at each other. For a moment he was awed. And envious.
Curious that Hakim Khan allowed a komiteh to issue the warrant, not the police who would have made extradition legal. He motioned to the sergeant. “Let him out. I’ll wait for you both in the office. Don’t forget I still have your jewelry to return to you. And the two knives.” He strode off. The cage gate opened noisily. The sergeant hesitated, then left. Neither Erikki nor Azadeh noticed him go or the foulness of the cell, only each other, she just outside, still holding on to the bars, he just inside, holding on to the bars of the door. They did not move. Just smiled. “Insha’Allah?” she said.
“Why not?” And then, still disoriented by their deliverance by an honest man whom Erikki would have torn apart as the epitome of evil a moment ago, Erikki remembered what the major had said about purdah, how desirable she was. In spite of his wish not to wreck the miracle of the good he blurted out, “Azadeh, I’d like to leave all the bad here. Can we? What about John Ross?”
Her smile did not alter and she knew that they were at the abyss. With confidence she leaped into it, glad for the opportunity. “Long ago in our beginning I told you that once upon a time I knew him when I was very young,” she said, her voice tender, belying her anxiety. “In the village and at the base he saved my life. When I meet him again, if I meet him, I will smile at him and be happy. I beg you to do the same. The past is the past and should stay the past.”
Accept it and him, Erikki, now and forever, she was willing him, or our marriage will end quickly, not of my volition but because you’ll unman yourself, you’ll make your life unbearable and you’ll not want me near you. Then I’ll go back to Tabriz and begin another life, sadly it’s true, but that’s what I’ve decided to do. I won’t remind you of your promise to me before we were married, I don’t want to humiliate you - but how rotten of you to forget. I forgive you only because I love you. Oh, God, men are so strange, so difficult to understand, please remind him of his oath at once!
“Erikki,” she murmured, “let the past stay with the past. Please?” With her eyes she begged him as only a woman can beg.
But he avoided her look, devastated by his own stupidity and jealousy. Azadeh’s right, he was shouting at himself. That’s past. Azadeh told me about him honestly and I promised her freely that I could live with that and he did save her life. She’s right, but even so I’m sure she loves him. Tormented he looked down at her and into her eyes, a door slammed inside his head, he locked it and cast away the key. The old warmth pervaded him, cleansing him. “You’re right and I agree! You’re right! I love you - and Finland forever!” He lifted her off the ground and kissed her and she kissed him back, then held on to him as, more happy than he had ever been, he carried her effortlessly up the corridor. “Do they have sauna in Istanbul, do you think he’ll let us make a phone call, just one, do you think…” But she was not listening. She was smiling to herself.
BAHRAIN - THE INTERNATIONAL HOSPITAL: 6:03 P.M.
The muted phone rang in Mac’s bedroom and Genny came out of her pleasing reverie on the veranda, Mac dozing in an easy chair beside her in the shade. She slipped out of her chair, not making a sound, not wanting to awaken him, and picked it up. “Captain McIver’s room,” she said softly. “Oh, sorry to bother you, is Captain McIver free for a moment? This is Mr. Newbury’s assistant at Al Shargaz.”
“Sorry, he’s sleeping, this is Mrs. McIver, can I take a message for him?” The voice hesitated. “Perhaps you’d ask him to call me. Bertram Jones.” “If it’s important, you’d better give it to me.”
Again a hesitation, then, “Very well. Thank you. It’s a telex from our HQ in Tehran for him. It says: ‘Please advise Captain D. McIver, managing director of IHC, that one of his pilots, Thomas Lochart, and his wife have been reported accidentally killed during a demonstration.’” The voice picked up a little. “Sorry for the bad news, Mrs. McIver.”
“Th - that’s all right. Thank you. I’ll see my, my husband gets it. Thank you.” Quietly she replaced the phone. She caught sight of herself in a mirror. Her face was colorless, naked in its misery.
Oh, my God, I can’t let Duncan see me or know or he’ll ha - “Who was it, Gen?” McIver said from outside, still half asleep. “It… it’ll wait, luvey. Go back to sleep.”
“Good about the tests, wasn’t it?” The results had been excellent. “Wonderful… I’ll be back in a second.” She went to the bathroom and closed the door and splashed water on her face. Can’t tell him, just can’t… got to protect him. Should I call Andy? A glance at her watch. Can’t, Andy‘11 be at the airport already. I’ll… I’ll wait till he arrives, that’s what I’ll do…. I’ll go to meet him with JeanLuc and… nothing to do till then… oh God oh God, poor Tommy, poor Sharazad… poor loves… The tears poured out of her and she turned on the taps to hide the sound. When she came back onto the veranda McIver was contentedly asleep. She sat and looked at the sunset, not seeing it.
AL SHARGAZ INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT: Sunset. Rudi Lutz, Scragger, and all the others were waiting at their exit barrier, anxiously staring off toward the crowded foyer, arriving and departing passengers milling about. “Final call for BA 532 to Rome and London. All aboard, please.”
Through the huge, plate-glass windows they could see the sun almost at the horizon. All were nervous. “Andy should’ve kept Johnny and the 125 as backup for God’s sake,” Rudi muttered testily to no one in particular. “He had to send it to Nigeria,” Scot said defensively. “The Old Man had no choice, Rudi.” But he saw Rudi was not listening, so he half shrugged, absently said to Scragger, “You really going to give up flying, Scrag?” The lined old face twisted. “For a year, only for a year - Bahrain’s great for me, Kasigi’s a beaut, and I won’t give up flying completely, oh dear no. Can’t, me son, gives me the creeps to think about it.”