way."
mclver's heart picked up a beat. "good, he'll be in tomorrow."
"i'll get on to ba and see if i can get them guaranteed seating. as backup, i'll send our company 125. she's scheduled for tehran tomorrow. if you've any problem with ba, send all dependents and spare boas out by her, starting tomorrow. tehran's still open, isn't it?"
"it was today," mciver said carefully.
he heard gavallan say equally carefully, "the authorities, thank god, have everything under control."
"yes."
"mae, what do you recommend about our iranian ops?"
mciver took a deep breath. "status quo."
"good. all indications here, up to the highest levels, say it should be business as usual soon. we've got lots of face in iran. and future. listen, mac, that rumor about guerney was correct."
mciver brightened perceptibly. "you're sure?"
"yes. a few minutes ago i got a telex from iranoil confirming we'll get all guerney contracts at kharg, kowiss, zagros, and lengeh to begin with. apparently the order to squeeze came from on high, and i did have to make a generous pishkesh contribution to our partners' slush fund." a pishkesh was an ancient iranian custom, a gift given in advance for a favor that might be granted. it was also ancient custom for any official legitimately to keep pishkesh given him in the course of his work. how else could he live? "but never mind that, we'll quadruple our iranian profits, laddie."
"that's wonderful, andy."
"and that's not all: mac, i've just ordered another twenty 212s and today i confirmed the order for six x63s she's a smasher!"
"christ, andy, that's fantastic but you're pushing it, aren't you?"
"iran may beer, in temporary difficulties, but the rest of the world's scared fartless about alternate sources of oil. the yanks have their knickers in a twist, laddie." the voice picked up another beat. "i've just confirmed another huge deal with extex for new contracts in nigeria, saudi, and borneo, another with all-gulf oil in the emirates. in the north sea it's just us, guerney, and imperial helicopters." imperial helicopters was a subsidiary of imperial air, the second semi-government airline in opposition to british airways. "it's paramount you keep everything stable in iran our contracts, aircraft, and spares're part of
our collateral for the new aircraft. for god's sake keep our dear partners on the straight and narrow. how are the dear sweet people?"
"lust the usual."
gavallan knew this meant rotten as usual. "i've just had a session with general javadah in london myself." javadahhad left iran with all his family a year ago, just before the troubles became overt. for the past three months two of their other iranian partners, and families, had been visiting london "for medical reasons," four others were in america also with their families. three remained in tehran. "he's bullish though expensive."
mclver put him away for more important problems. "andy, i've got to have some money. cash."
"it's in the post."
mclver heard the rich laugh and felt the warmer for it. "up yours, chinaboy!" he said. chinaboy was his private nickname for gavallan who, before going to aberdeen, had spent most of his previous life as a china trader, based first in shanghai, then with struan's in hong kong where they had first met. at that time mciver had had a small, struggling helicopter service in the colony. "for god's sake, we're way behind paying our ground crews, there's all the pilots' expenses, almost everything's got to be bought on the..." he stopped himself in time. in case someone was listening. he was going to say black market. "the bloody banks are still closed and the little cash i've left is for heung you." he used the cantonese expression, literally meaning "fragrant grease," the money used to grease palms.
"javadah's promised that general valik in tehran'll give you
mclver's heart picked up a beat. "good, he'll be in tomorrow."
"i'll get on to ba and see if i can get them guaranteed seating. as backup, i'll send our company 125. she's scheduled for tehran tomorrow. if you've any problem with ba, send all dependents and spare boas out by her, starting tomorrow. tehran's still open, isn't it?"
"it was today," mciver said carefully.
he heard gavallan say equally carefully, "the authorities, thank god, have everything under control."
"yes."
"mae, what do you recommend about our iranian ops?"
mciver took a deep breath. "status quo."
"good. all indications here, up to the highest levels, say it should be business as usual soon. we've got lots of face in iran. and future. listen, mac, that rumor about guerney was correct."
mciver brightened perceptibly. "you're sure?"
"yes. a few minutes ago i got a telex from iranoil confirming we'll get all guerney contracts at kharg, kowiss, zagros, and lengeh to begin with. apparently the order to squeeze came from on high, and i did have to make a generous pishkesh contribution to our partners' slush fund." a pishkesh was an ancient iranian custom, a gift given in advance for a favor that might be granted. it was also ancient custom for any official legitimately to keep pishkesh given him in the course of his work. how else could he live? "but never mind that, we'll quadruple our iranian profits, laddie."
"that's wonderful, andy."
"and that's not all: mac, i've just ordered another twenty 212s and today i confirmed the order for six x63s she's a smasher!"
"christ, andy, that's fantastic but you're pushing it, aren't you?"
"iran may beer, in temporary difficulties, but the rest of the world's scared fartless about alternate sources of oil. the yanks have their knickers in a twist, laddie." the voice picked up another beat. "i've just confirmed another huge deal with extex for new contracts in nigeria, saudi, and borneo, another with all-gulf oil in the emirates. in the north sea it's just us, guerney, and imperial helicopters." imperial helicopters was a subsidiary of imperial air, the second semi-government airline in opposition to british airways. "it's paramount you keep everything stable in iran our contracts, aircraft, and spares're part of
our collateral for the new aircraft. for god's sake keep our dear partners on the straight and narrow. how are the dear sweet people?"
"lust the usual."
gavallan knew this meant rotten as usual. "i've just had a session with general javadah in london myself." javadahhad left iran with all his family a year ago, just before the troubles became overt. for the past three months two of their other iranian partners, and families, had been visiting london "for medical reasons," four others were in america also with their families. three remained in tehran. "he's bullish though expensive."
mclver put him away for more important problems. "andy, i've got to have some money. cash."
"it's in the post."
mclver heard the rich laugh and felt the warmer for it. "up yours, chinaboy!" he said. chinaboy was his private nickname for gavallan who, before going to aberdeen, had spent most of his previous life as a china trader, based first in shanghai, then with struan's in hong kong where they had first met. at that time mciver had had a small, struggling helicopter service in the colony. "for god's sake, we're way behind paying our ground crews, there's all the pilots' expenses, almost everything's got to be bought on the..." he stopped himself in time. in case someone was listening. he was going to say black market. "the bloody banks are still closed and the little cash i've left is for heung you." he used the cantonese expression, literally meaning "fragrant grease," the money used to grease palms.
"javadah's promised that general valik in tehran'll give you
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