airport completely.
for two days no flights came in or left. the crowds streamed away or stayed. then some of the controllers went back to work and it began again. rumors of incoming flights. rushing to the airport with the kids and the luggage of years, or with no luggage, for a guaranteed seat that never was, back to tehran again, half a thousand waiting in the taxi rank ahead of you, most taxis on strike back to the hotel at length, your hotel room long since sold to another, all banks closed so no money to grease the ever-open hands.
at length most foreigners who wanted to leave left. those who stayed to keep the businesses running, the oil fields serviced, airplanes flying, nuclear plants abuilding, chemical plants working, tankers moving and to protect their gigantic investments kept a lower profile, particularly if they were american. khomeini had said, "if the foreigner wants to leave, let him leave; it is american materialism that is the great satan..."
mciver held the phone closer to his ear as the volume slipped a fraction, afraid that the connection would vanish. "yes, george, you were saying?"
talbot continued: "i was just saying, duncan, we're quite sure everything's going to work out eventually. there's no way in the world the pot will completely blow up. an unofficial source says a deal's already in place for the shah to abdicate in favor of his son reza the compromise hm government advocates. the transition to constitutional government may be a bit wobbly but nothing to worry about. sorry, got to dash let me know what you decide."
the phone went dead.
mciver cursed, jiggled the connectors to no avail, and told genny and charlie what talbot had said. genny smiled sweetly. "don't look at me, the answer's no. i agr "
"but, gen, tal "
"i agree the others should go but this one's staying. food's almost ready." she went back to the kitchen and closed the door, cutting off further argument.
"well she's bloody going and that's it," mciver said.
"my year's salary says she won't until you leave. why don't you go for god's sake? i can look after everything."
"no. thanks, but no." then mciver beamed in the semidarkness. "actually it's like being back in the war, isn't it? back in the bloody blackout. nothing to worry about except get with it and look after the troops and obey orders." mclver frowned at his glass. "talbot was right about one thing: we're bloody lucky to be british. tough on the yanks. not fair."
"yes, but you've covered ours as best you can."
"hope so. " when the shah had left and violence everywhere increased, mclver had issued british ids to all americans. "they should be all right unless the green bands, police, or savak check them against their licenses." by iranian law all foreigners had to have a current visa, which had to be canceled before they could leave the country, a current id card giving their corporate affiliate and all pilots a current annual iran pilot's license. for a further measure of safety mclver had had corporate ids made and signed by the chief of their iranian partners in tehran, general valik. so far there had been no problems. to the americans, mclver had said, "better you have these to show if necessary," and had issued orders for all personnel to carry photographs of both khomeini and the shah. "make sure you use the right one if you're stopped!"
pettikin was trying to call bandar delam on the hf with no success. "we'll try later," mclver said. "all bases'll be listening out at 0830 that'll give us time to decide what to do. christ, it's going to be bloody difficult. what do you think? status quo, except for dependents?"
very concerned, pettikin got up and took a candle and peered at the operations map pinned to the wall. it showed the status of their bases, crew, ground staff, and aircraft. the bases were scattered over iran, from air force and army training
for two days no flights came in or left. the crowds streamed away or stayed. then some of the controllers went back to work and it began again. rumors of incoming flights. rushing to the airport with the kids and the luggage of years, or with no luggage, for a guaranteed seat that never was, back to tehran again, half a thousand waiting in the taxi rank ahead of you, most taxis on strike back to the hotel at length, your hotel room long since sold to another, all banks closed so no money to grease the ever-open hands.
at length most foreigners who wanted to leave left. those who stayed to keep the businesses running, the oil fields serviced, airplanes flying, nuclear plants abuilding, chemical plants working, tankers moving and to protect their gigantic investments kept a lower profile, particularly if they were american. khomeini had said, "if the foreigner wants to leave, let him leave; it is american materialism that is the great satan..."
mciver held the phone closer to his ear as the volume slipped a fraction, afraid that the connection would vanish. "yes, george, you were saying?"
talbot continued: "i was just saying, duncan, we're quite sure everything's going to work out eventually. there's no way in the world the pot will completely blow up. an unofficial source says a deal's already in place for the shah to abdicate in favor of his son reza the compromise hm government advocates. the transition to constitutional government may be a bit wobbly but nothing to worry about. sorry, got to dash let me know what you decide."
the phone went dead.
mciver cursed, jiggled the connectors to no avail, and told genny and charlie what talbot had said. genny smiled sweetly. "don't look at me, the answer's no. i agr "
"but, gen, tal "
"i agree the others should go but this one's staying. food's almost ready." she went back to the kitchen and closed the door, cutting off further argument.
"well she's bloody going and that's it," mciver said.
"my year's salary says she won't until you leave. why don't you go for god's sake? i can look after everything."
"no. thanks, but no." then mciver beamed in the semidarkness. "actually it's like being back in the war, isn't it? back in the bloody blackout. nothing to worry about except get with it and look after the troops and obey orders." mclver frowned at his glass. "talbot was right about one thing: we're bloody lucky to be british. tough on the yanks. not fair."
"yes, but you've covered ours as best you can."
"hope so. " when the shah had left and violence everywhere increased, mclver had issued british ids to all americans. "they should be all right unless the green bands, police, or savak check them against their licenses." by iranian law all foreigners had to have a current visa, which had to be canceled before they could leave the country, a current id card giving their corporate affiliate and all pilots a current annual iran pilot's license. for a further measure of safety mclver had had corporate ids made and signed by the chief of their iranian partners in tehran, general valik. so far there had been no problems. to the americans, mclver had said, "better you have these to show if necessary," and had issued orders for all personnel to carry photographs of both khomeini and the shah. "make sure you use the right one if you're stopped!"
pettikin was trying to call bandar delam on the hf with no success. "we'll try later," mclver said. "all bases'll be listening out at 0830 that'll give us time to decide what to do. christ, it's going to be bloody difficult. what do you think? status quo, except for dependents?"
very concerned, pettikin got up and took a candle and peered at the operations map pinned to the wall. it showed the status of their bases, crew, ground staff, and aircraft. the bases were scattered over iran, from air force and army training
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