himself another. stronger. "charlie, you talk to her. she'll listen to y "
"the hell she will."
"you're right. bloody women. bloody obstinate. they're all the bloody same." they laughed.
after a pause, pettikin said, "how's sharazad?"
mciver thought a moment. "tom lochart's a lucky man."
"why didn't she go back with him on leave and stay in england until iran settles down?"
"there's no reason for her to go she has no family or friends there. she wanted him to see his kids, christmas and all that. she said she felt she'd stir things up and be in the way if she went along. deirdre lochart's still very pissed off with the divorce, and anyway sharazad's family's here and you know how strong iranians are on family. she won't leave until tom goes and even then i don't know. and as for tom, if i tried to post him i think he'd quit. he'll stay forever. like you." he smiled. "why do you stay?"
"best posting i've ever had, when it was normal. can fly all i want, ski winters, sail summers... but let's face it, mac, claire always hated it here. for years she spent more time in england than here so she could be near jason and beatrice, her own family, and our grandchild. at least the parting of the ways was friendly. chopper pilots shouldn't be married anyway, have to move about too much. i'm born expatriate, i'll die one. don't want to go back to cape town hardly know that place anyway and can't stand those bloody english winters." he sipped his beer in the semidarkness. "insha'allah," he said with finality. in god's hands. the thought pleased him.
unexpectedly the telephone jangled, startling them. for months now the phone system had been unreliable for the last few weeks impossible and almost nonexistent, with perpetually crossed lines, wrong numbers, and no dial tones that miraculously cleared for no apparent reason for a day or an hour, to fall back like a shroud again, equally for no reason.
"five pounds it's a bill collector," pettikin said, smiling at genny who came out of the kitchen, equally startled at hearing the bell.
"that's no bet, charlie!" banks had been on strike and closed for two months in response to khomeini's call for a general strike, so no one individuals, companies, or even the government had been able to get any cash out and most iranians used cash and not checks.
mciver picked up the phone not knowing what to expect. or who. "hello."
"good god, the bloody thing's working," the voice said. "duncan, can you hear me?"
"yes, yes, i can. just. who's this?"
"talbot, george talbot at the british embassy. sorry, old boy, but the stuff is hitting the fan. khomeini's named mehdi bazargan prime minister and called for bakhtiar's resignation or else. about a million people are in the streets of tehran right now looking for trouble. we've just heard there's a revolt of airmen at doshan tappeh and bakhtiar's said if they don't quit he'll order in the immortals." the immortals were crack units of the fanatically pro-shah imperial guards. "her majesty's government, along with the u.s., canadian, et al., are advising all nonessential nationals to leave the country at once..."
mciver tried to keep the shock out of his face and mouthed to the others, "talbot at the embassy."
"... yesterday an american of extex oil and an iranian oil official were ambushed and killed by 'unidentified gunmen' in the southwest, near ahwaz" mclver's heart skipped another beat "... you're operating down there still, aren't you?"
"near there, at bandar delam on the coast," mclver said, no change in his voice.
"how many british nationals do you have here, excluding dependents?"
mclver thought for a moment. "forty-five, out of our present complement of sixty-seven, that's twenty-six pilots, thirty-six mechanic/engineers, five admin, which's pretty basic for us."
"who're the others?"
"four
"the hell she will."
"you're right. bloody women. bloody obstinate. they're all the bloody same." they laughed.
after a pause, pettikin said, "how's sharazad?"
mciver thought a moment. "tom lochart's a lucky man."
"why didn't she go back with him on leave and stay in england until iran settles down?"
"there's no reason for her to go she has no family or friends there. she wanted him to see his kids, christmas and all that. she said she felt she'd stir things up and be in the way if she went along. deirdre lochart's still very pissed off with the divorce, and anyway sharazad's family's here and you know how strong iranians are on family. she won't leave until tom goes and even then i don't know. and as for tom, if i tried to post him i think he'd quit. he'll stay forever. like you." he smiled. "why do you stay?"
"best posting i've ever had, when it was normal. can fly all i want, ski winters, sail summers... but let's face it, mac, claire always hated it here. for years she spent more time in england than here so she could be near jason and beatrice, her own family, and our grandchild. at least the parting of the ways was friendly. chopper pilots shouldn't be married anyway, have to move about too much. i'm born expatriate, i'll die one. don't want to go back to cape town hardly know that place anyway and can't stand those bloody english winters." he sipped his beer in the semidarkness. "insha'allah," he said with finality. in god's hands. the thought pleased him.
unexpectedly the telephone jangled, startling them. for months now the phone system had been unreliable for the last few weeks impossible and almost nonexistent, with perpetually crossed lines, wrong numbers, and no dial tones that miraculously cleared for no apparent reason for a day or an hour, to fall back like a shroud again, equally for no reason.
"five pounds it's a bill collector," pettikin said, smiling at genny who came out of the kitchen, equally startled at hearing the bell.
"that's no bet, charlie!" banks had been on strike and closed for two months in response to khomeini's call for a general strike, so no one individuals, companies, or even the government had been able to get any cash out and most iranians used cash and not checks.
mciver picked up the phone not knowing what to expect. or who. "hello."
"good god, the bloody thing's working," the voice said. "duncan, can you hear me?"
"yes, yes, i can. just. who's this?"
"talbot, george talbot at the british embassy. sorry, old boy, but the stuff is hitting the fan. khomeini's named mehdi bazargan prime minister and called for bakhtiar's resignation or else. about a million people are in the streets of tehran right now looking for trouble. we've just heard there's a revolt of airmen at doshan tappeh and bakhtiar's said if they don't quit he'll order in the immortals." the immortals were crack units of the fanatically pro-shah imperial guards. "her majesty's government, along with the u.s., canadian, et al., are advising all nonessential nationals to leave the country at once..."
mciver tried to keep the shock out of his face and mouthed to the others, "talbot at the embassy."
"... yesterday an american of extex oil and an iranian oil official were ambushed and killed by 'unidentified gunmen' in the southwest, near ahwaz" mclver's heart skipped another beat "... you're operating down there still, aren't you?"
"near there, at bandar delam on the coast," mclver said, no change in his voice.
"how many british nationals do you have here, excluding dependents?"
mclver thought for a moment. "forty-five, out of our present complement of sixty-seven, that's twenty-six pilots, thirty-six mechanic/engineers, five admin, which's pretty basic for us."
"who're the others?"
"four
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