On Wings Of Eagles (1990)

Ambassador William Sullivan had got an emergency call for help from General Gast, head of the Military Assistance Advisory Group. MAAG Headquarters was surrounded by a mob. Tanks were drawn up outside the building and shots were being exchanged. Gast and his officers, together with most of the Iranian general staff, were in a bunker underneath the building.

Sullivan had every able-bodied man in the Embassy making phone calls, trying to find revolutionary leaders who might have the authority to call off the mob. The phone on Sullivan's desk was ringing constantly. In the middle of the crisis he got a call from Undersecretary Newsom in Washington.

Newsom was calling from the Situation Room in the White House, where Zbigniew Brzezinski was chairing a meeting on Iran. He asked for Sullivan's assessment of the current position in Tehran. Sullivan gave it to him in a few short phrases, and told him that right at that moment he was preoccupied with saving the life of the senior American military officer in Iran.

A few minutes later Sullivan got a call from an Embassy official who had succeeded in reaching Ibrahim Yazdi, a Khomeini sidekick. The official was telling Sullivan that Yazdi might help when the call was overridden and Newsom came on the line again.

Newsom said: "The National Security Advisor has asked for your view of the possibility of a coup d'etat by the Iranian military to take over from the Bakhtiar government, which is clearly faltering."

The question was so ridiculous that Sullivan blew his cool. "Tell Brzezinski to fuck off," he said.

"That's not a very helpful comment," said Newsom.

"You want it translated into Polish?" Sullivan said, and he hung up the phone.

On the roof of Bucharest, the negotiating team could see the fires spreading uptown. The noise of shooting was also coming closer to where they stood.

John Howell and Abolhasan returned from their meeting with Dadgar. "Well?" Gayden said to Howell. "What did that bastard say?"

"He won't let them go."

"Bastard."

A few minutes later they all heard a noise that sounded distinctly like a bullet whistling by. A moment later the noise came again. They decided to get off the roof.

They went down to the offices and watched from the windows. They began to see, in the street below, boys and young men with rifles. It seemed the mob had broken into a nearby armory. This was too close for comfort: it was time to abandon Bucharest and go to the Hyatt, which was farther uptown.

They went out and jumped into two cars, then headed up the Shahanshahi Expressway at top speed. The streets were packed, and there was a carnival atmosphere. People were leaning out of windows yelling "Allahar Akbar!" God is great! Most of the traffic was headed downtown, toward the fighting. Taylor drove straight through three roadblocks, but nobody minded: they were all dancing.

They reached the Hyatt and assembled in the sitting room of the eleventh-floor corner suite that Gayden had taken over from Perot. They were joined by Rich Gallagher's wife, Cathy, and her white poodle, Buffy.

Gayden had stocked the suite with booze from the abandoned homes of EDS evacuees, and he now had the best bar in Tehran; but no one felt much like drinking.

"What do we do next?" Gayden asked.

Nobody had any ideas.

Gayden got on the phone to Dallas, where it was now six A.M. He reached Tom Walter and told him about the fires, the fighting, and the kids on the streets with their automatic rifles.

"That's all I got to report," he finished.

In his slow Alabama drawl, Walter said: "Other than that a quiet day, huh?"

They discussed what they would do if the phone lines went down. Gayden said he would try to get messages through via the U.S. military: Cathy Gallagher worked for the army and she thought she could swing it.

Keane Taylor went into the bedroom and lay down. He thought about his wife, Mary. She was in Pittsburgh, staying with his parents. Taylor's mother and father were both past eighty and in failing health. Mary had called to tell him his mother had been rushed to the hospital: it was her heart. Mary wanted Taylor to come home. He had spoken to his father, who had said ambiguously: "You know what you have to do." It was true: Taylor knew he had to stay here. But it was not easy, not for him or for Mary.

He was dozing on Gayden's bed when the phone rang. He reached out to the bedside table and picked it up. "Hello?" he said sleepily.

A breathless Iranian voice said: "Are Paul and Bill there?"

"What?" said Taylor. "Rashid--is that you?"

"Are Paul and Bill there?" Rashid repeated.

"No. What do you mean?"

"Okay, I'm coming, I'm coming."

Rashid hung up.

Taylor got off the bed and went into the sitting room. "Rashid just called," he told the others. "He asked me if Paul and Bill were here."

"What did he mean?" said Gayden. "Where was he calling from?"

"I couldn't get anything else out of him. He was all excited, and you know how bad his English is when he gets wound up."

"Didn't he say any more?"