bases at tehran and isfahan, to high- altitude oil-rig support in the zagros, a logging operation in tabriz in the northwest, a uranium survey team near the afghan border, from a pipeline survey on the caspian, to four oil operations on or near the gulf, and the last, far to the southeast, another at lengeh on the strait of hormuz. of these only five were operational now: lengeh, kowiss, bandar delam, zagros, and tabriz. "we've fifteen 212s, including two nonoperational on their two-thousand-hour checks, seven 206s, and three alouettes, all supposed to be working at the moment..."
"and all leased on binding legal contracts, none of which have been rescinded, but none of which we're being paid for," mciver said testily. "there's no way we can base them all at kowiss we can't even legally remove any one of them without the approval of the contractor, or our dear partners' approval not unless we could declare force majeure."
"there isn't any yet. it has to be status quo, as long as we can. talbot sounded confident. status quo."
"i wish it was status quo, charlie. my god, this time last year we had almost forty 212s working and all the rest." mclver poured himself another whisky.
"you'd better go easy," pettikin said quietly. "genny'll give you hell. you know your blood pressure's up and you're not to drink."
"it's medicinal, for christ's sweet sake." a candle "uttered and went out. mclver got up and lit another and went back to staring at the map. "i think we'd better get azadeh and the flying finn back. his 212's on its fifteenhundred-hour so he could be spared for a couple of days." this was captain erikki yokkonen and his iranian wife, azadeh, and their base was near tabriz in east azerbaijan province, to the far northwest, near the soviet border. "why not take a 206 and fetch them'? that'd save him three hundred and fifty miles of lousy driving and we've got to take him some spares."
pettikin was beaming. "thanks, i could do an outing. i'll file a flight plan by hf tonight and leave at dawn, refuel at bandar-e pahlavi, and buy us some caviar."
"dreamer. but gen'd like that. you know what i think of the stuff." mclver turned away from the map. "we're very exposed, charlie, if things got dicey."
"only if it's in the cards."
mclver nodded. absently his eyes fell on the telephone. he picked it up. now there was a dial tone. excitedly he began to dial: 00, international; 44, british isles; 224, aberdeen in scotland, 765-8080. he waited and waited, then his face lit up. "christ, i'm through!"
"s-g helicopters, hold the line, please," the operator said before he could interrupt and put him on hold. he waited, fuming. "s-g helico "
"this's mclver in tehran, give me the old man, please."
"he's on the phone, mr. mclver." the girl sniffed. "i'll give you his secretary."
"hello, mac!" liz chen said almost at once. "hang on a tick, i'll get himself. you all right? we've been trying to get you for days; hang on."
"all right, liz."
a moment, then gavallan said happily, "mae? christ, how did you get through? wonderful to hear from you i've got a laddie permanently dialing you, your office, your apartment, ten hours a day. how's genny? how did you get through?"
"just luck, andy. i'm at home. i'd better be fast in case we're cut off." mclver told him most of what talbot had said. he had to be circumspect because rumor had it that savak, the iranian secret police, often tapped telephones, particularly of foreigners. it was standing company procedure for
the last two years to presume someone was listening savak, cia, m15, kgb, someone.
there was a moment's silence. "first, obey the embassy and get all our dependents out at once. alert the finnish embassy for azadeh's passport. tell tom lochart to expedite sharazad's i got him to apply two weeks ago, just in case. he's, er, got some mail for you, by the
"and all leased on binding legal contracts, none of which have been rescinded, but none of which we're being paid for," mciver said testily. "there's no way we can base them all at kowiss we can't even legally remove any one of them without the approval of the contractor, or our dear partners' approval not unless we could declare force majeure."
"there isn't any yet. it has to be status quo, as long as we can. talbot sounded confident. status quo."
"i wish it was status quo, charlie. my god, this time last year we had almost forty 212s working and all the rest." mclver poured himself another whisky.
"you'd better go easy," pettikin said quietly. "genny'll give you hell. you know your blood pressure's up and you're not to drink."
"it's medicinal, for christ's sweet sake." a candle "uttered and went out. mclver got up and lit another and went back to staring at the map. "i think we'd better get azadeh and the flying finn back. his 212's on its fifteenhundred-hour so he could be spared for a couple of days." this was captain erikki yokkonen and his iranian wife, azadeh, and their base was near tabriz in east azerbaijan province, to the far northwest, near the soviet border. "why not take a 206 and fetch them'? that'd save him three hundred and fifty miles of lousy driving and we've got to take him some spares."
pettikin was beaming. "thanks, i could do an outing. i'll file a flight plan by hf tonight and leave at dawn, refuel at bandar-e pahlavi, and buy us some caviar."
"dreamer. but gen'd like that. you know what i think of the stuff." mclver turned away from the map. "we're very exposed, charlie, if things got dicey."
"only if it's in the cards."
mclver nodded. absently his eyes fell on the telephone. he picked it up. now there was a dial tone. excitedly he began to dial: 00, international; 44, british isles; 224, aberdeen in scotland, 765-8080. he waited and waited, then his face lit up. "christ, i'm through!"
"s-g helicopters, hold the line, please," the operator said before he could interrupt and put him on hold. he waited, fuming. "s-g helico "
"this's mclver in tehran, give me the old man, please."
"he's on the phone, mr. mclver." the girl sniffed. "i'll give you his secretary."
"hello, mac!" liz chen said almost at once. "hang on a tick, i'll get himself. you all right? we've been trying to get you for days; hang on."
"all right, liz."
a moment, then gavallan said happily, "mae? christ, how did you get through? wonderful to hear from you i've got a laddie permanently dialing you, your office, your apartment, ten hours a day. how's genny? how did you get through?"
"just luck, andy. i'm at home. i'd better be fast in case we're cut off." mclver told him most of what talbot had said. he had to be circumspect because rumor had it that savak, the iranian secret police, often tapped telephones, particularly of foreigners. it was standing company procedure for
the last two years to presume someone was listening savak, cia, m15, kgb, someone.
there was a moment's silence. "first, obey the embassy and get all our dependents out at once. alert the finnish embassy for azadeh's passport. tell tom lochart to expedite sharazad's i got him to apply two weeks ago, just in case. he's, er, got some mail for you, by the
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