they had taken off from doshan tappeh just after dawn. the base was almost empty, with many buildings and hangars now burned-out shells, wrecked iranian air force airplanes, trucks, and one fire-gutted tank with the immortals emblem on its side. no one cleaning up the mess. no guards. scavengers taking away anything burnable still hardly any fuel oil for sale, or food, but many daily and nightly clashes between green bands and leftists.
the s-g hangar and repair shop were hardly damaged. many bullet holes in the walls but nothing had been looted yet and it was operating, more or less, with a few mechanics and office staff about their normal work. some back salary from the money mciver had squeezed from valik and the other partners had been the magnet. he had given some cash to erikki to pay the staff at tabriz one: "start praying, erikki! today i've an appointment at the ministry to iron out our finances and the money we're owed," he had told them just before they took off, "and to renew all our out-of-date licenses. talbot at the embassy fixed it for me he thinks there's a better than good chance bazargan and khomeini can get control now and disarm the leftists. we've just got to keep our bottle, keep our cool."
easy for him, erikki thought.
now they crested the pass. he banked and came down fast. "there's the base!" both pilots concentrated. the wind sock was the only thing that moved. no transport parked anywhere. no smoke from any of the cabins. "there
should be smoke." he circled tightly at seven hundred feet. no one came out to greet them. "i'll take a closer look."
they whirled in quickly and out again. still nothing moved so they went back up to a thousand feet. erikki thought a moment. "azadeh, i could set her down in the forecourt of the palace or just outside the walls."
at once azadeh shook her head. "no, erikki, you know how nervous his guards are and how, how sensitive he is about anyone arriving unasked."
"but we're asked, at least you are. ordered is the real word. we could go over there, circle, and take a look, and if it seems all right, we could land."
"we could land well away and walk in't "
"no walking. not without guns." he had been unable to obtain one in tehran. every damned hooligan has as many as he wants, he thought irritably. have to get one. don't feel safe anymore. "we'll go and look and then i'll decide." he switched to the tabriz tower frequency and called. no answer. he called again, then banked and went for the city. as they passed over their village of abu mard, erikki pointed downward and azadeh saw the little schoolhouse where she had spent so many happy hours, the glades nearby and there, just by the stream, was where she had first seen erikki and thought him a giant of the forest and had fallen in love, miracle of miracles, to be rescued by him from a life of torment. she reached forward and touched him through the small window.
"you all right? warm enough?" he smiled at her.
"oh, yes, erikki. the village was so lucky for us, wasn't it?" she kept her hand on his shoulder. the contact pleased both of them.
soon they could see the airport and the railroad that went north to soviet azerbaijan a few miles away, then on to moscow, southeast it curled back to tehran, three hundred and fifty miles away. the city was large. now they could pick out the citadel and the blue mosque and polluting steel factories, the huts and hovels and houses of the six hundred thousand inhabitants.
"look over there!" part of the railway station was smoldering, smoke billowing. more fires near the citadel and no answer from tabriz tower and no activity on the airfield apron, though some small, feeder airplanes were parked there. a lot of activity at the military base, trucks and cars coming and going, but as far as they could see, no firing or battles or crowds in the streets, the whole area near the mosque curiously empty. "don't want to go too low," he said, "don't want to tempt some trigger-happy crackpot."
"you like tabriz, erikki?" nogger asked, to cover his disquiet. he had never been here before.
"it's a grand city, old and wise and open and free the most cosmopolitan in iran. i've had some grand times here, the food and drink of all the world
cheap and available caviar and russian vodka and scottish smoked salmon and once a week, in the good times, air france brought fresh french breads and cheeses. turkish goods and caucasian, british, american, japanese anything and everything. it's famous for its carpets, nogger, and the beauty of its girls..." he felt azadeh pinch his earlobe and he laughed. "it's true, azadeh, aren't you tabrizi? it's a fine city, nogger. they speak a dialect of farsi which is more turkish than anything else. for centuries it's been a big trading center, part iranian, part russian, part turkish, part kurd, part armenian, and always rebellious and independent and always wanted by the tsars and now the soviets..."
here and there knots of people stared up at them. "nogger, see any guns?"
"plenty, but no one's firing at us. yet."
cautiously erikki skirted the city and headed eastward. there the land climbed into close foothills and there was the walled palace of the gorgons on a crest with the road leading up to it. no traffic on the road. many acres of land within the high walls: orchards, a carpet factory, garages for twenty cars, sheds for wintering herds of sheep, huts and outhouses for a hundred-odd servants and guards, and the sprawling main cupolaed building of fifty rooms and small mosque and tiny minaret. a number of cars were parked near the main entrance. he circled at seven hundred feet.
"that's some pad," nogger lane said, awed.
"it was built for my great-grandfather by prince zergeyev on orders of the romanov tsars, nogger, as a pishkesh," azadeh said absently, watching the grounds below. "that was in 1890 when the tsars had already stolen our caucasian provinces and once more were trying to split azerbaijan from iran and wanted the help of the gorgon khans. but our line has always been loyal to iran though they have sought to maintain a balance." she was watching the palace below. people were coming out of the main house and some of the outhouses servants and armed guards. "the mosque was built in 1907 to celebrate the signing of the new russian-british accord on their partitioning of us, and spheres of inn oh, look, erikki, isn't that najoud and fazulia and zadi... and, oh, look, erikki, isn't that my brother hakim what's hakim doing there?"
"where? oh, i see him. no, i don't th "
"perhaps... perhaps abdollah khan's forgiven him," she said excitedly. "oh, wouldn't that be wonderful!"
erikki peered at the people below. he had only met her brother once, at their wedding, but he had liked him very much. abdollah khan had released hakim from banishment for this day only, then sent him back to khoi in the northern part of azerbaijan near the turkish border where he had extensive
mining interests. "all hakim has ever wanted was to go to paris to study the piano," azadeh had told him. "but my father wouldn't listen to him, just cursed him and banished him for plotting..."
"it's not hakim," erikki said, his eyes much better than hers.
"oh!" azadeh squinted against the wind. "oh." she was so disappointed. "yes, yes, you're right, erikki."
"there's abdollah khan!" there was no mistaking the imposing, corpulent man with the long beard, coming out of the main door to stand on the steps, two armed guards behind him. with him were two other men. all were dressed in heavy overcoats against the cold. "who're they?"
"strangers," she said, trying to get over her disappointment. "they haven't guns and there's no mullah, so they're not green bands."
"they're europeans," nogger said. "you have any binoculars, erikki?"
"no." erikki stopped circling and came down to five hundred feet and hovered, watching abdollah khan intently. he saw him point at the chopper and then talk with the other men, then go back to watching the chopper again. more of her sisters and family, some wearing chador, and servants had collected, bundled against the cold. down another hundred feet. erikki slipped off his dark glasses and headset and slid the side window back, gasped as the freezing air hit him, stuck his head out so they could see him clearly, and waved. all eyes on the ground went to abdollah khan. after a pause the khan waved back. without pleasure.
"azadeh! take your headset off and do what i did."
she obeyed at once. some of her sisters waved back excitedly, chattering among themselves. abdollah khan did not acknowledge her, just waited. matyeryebyets, erikki thought, then leaned out of the cockpit and pointed at the wide space beyond the mosaic, frozen pool in the courtyard, obviously asking permission to land. abdollah khan nodded and pointed there, spoke briefly to his guards, then turned on his heel and went back into the house. the other men followed. one guard stayed. he walked down the steps toward the touchdown point, checking the action of his assault rifle.
"nothing like a friendly reception committee," nogger muttered.
"no need to worry, nogger," azadeh said with a nervous laugh. "i'll get out first, erikki, safer for me to be first."
they landed at once. azadeh opened her door and went to greet her sisters and her stepmother, her father's third wife and younger than she. his first wife, the khanan, was of an age with him but now she was bedridden and never left her room. his second wife, azadeh's mother, had died many years ago.
the guard intercepted azadeh. politely. erikki breathed easier. it was too far away to hear what was said in any event, neither he nor nogger spoke
farsi or turkish. the guard motioned at the chopper. she nodded then turned and beckoned them. erikki and nogger completed the shutdown, watching the guard who watched them seriously.
"you hate guns as much as i do, erikki?" nogger said.
"more. but at least that man knows how to use one it's the amateurs that scare me." erikki slipped out the circuit breakers and pocketed the ignition key.
they went to join azadeh and her sisters but the guard stood in the way. azadeh called out, "he says we are to go to the reception room at once and wait there. please follow me."
nogger was last. one of the pretty sisters caught his eye, and he smiled to himself and went up the stairs two at a time.
the reception room was vast and cold and crafty and smelled of damp, with heavy victorian furniture and many carpets and lounging cushions and old-fashioned water heaters. azadeh tidied her hair at one of the mirrors. her ski clothes were elegant and fashionable. abdollah khan had never required any of his wives or daughters or household to wear chador, did not approve of chador. then why was najoud wearing one today? she asked herself, her nervousness increasing. a servant brought tea. they waited half an hour, then another guard arrived and spoke to her. she took a deep breath. "nogger, you're to wait here," she said. "erikki, you and i are to go with this guard."
erikki followed her, tense but confident that the armed peace he had worked out with abdollah khan would hold. the touch of his pukoh knife reassured him. the guard opened a door at the end of the corridor and motioned them forward.
abdollah khan was leaning against some cushions, reclining on a carpet facing the door, guards behind him, the room rich, victorian, and formal and somehow decadent and soiled. the two men they had seen on the steps were seated cross-legged beside him. one was european, a big, well-preserved man in his late sixties with heavy shoulders and slavic eyes set in a friendly face. the other was younger, in his thirties, his features asiatic and the color of his skin yellowish. both wore heavy winter suits. erikki's caution soared and he waited beside the doorway as azadeh went to her father, knelt in front of him, kissed his pudgy, jeweled hands, and blessed him. impassively her father waved her to one side and kept his dark, dark eyes on erikki who greeted him politely from the door but stayed near it. hiding her shame and fear, azadeh knelt again on the carpet, and faced him. erikki saw both of the strangers flick their eyes over her appreciatively, and his temperature went up a notch. the silence intensified.
beside the khan was a plate of halvah, small squares of the honey-rich turkish delicacies that he adored, and he ate some of them, light dancing off
his rings. "so," he said harshly, "it seems you kill indiscriminately like a mad dog."
erikki's eyes narrowed and he said nothing.
"well?"
"if i kill it's not like a mad dog. whom am i supposed to have killed?"
"one old man in a crowd outside qazvin with a blow from your elbow, his chest crushed in. there are witnesses. next, three men in a car and one outside it he an important fighter for freedom. there are more witnesses. farther down the road five dead and more wounded in the wake of the helicopter rescue. more witnesses." another silence. azadeh had not moved though the blood had left her face. "well?"
"if there are witnesses you will know also that we were peacefully trying to get to tehran, we were unarmed, we were set upon by a mob and if it hadn't been for charlie pettikin and rakoczy, we'd probably be " erikki stopped momentarily, noticing the sudden glance between the two strangers. then, even more warily, he continued, "we'd probably be dead. we were unarmed rakoczy wasn't we were fired on first."
