On Wings Of Eagles (1990)

Poche headed down the Vanak Highway, which passed both the Hyatt and the Hilton. They could hear constant machine-gun fire over the sound of the car engines. A mile up the road, at the intersection with Pahlavi Avenue near to the Hilton, they ran into a roadblock.

Poche pulled up. Bill looked around. He and Paul had come through this intersection a few hours earlier, with the Iranian couple who had brought them to the Hyatt; but then there had been no roadblock, just one burned-out car. Now there were several burning cars, a barricade, and a crowd of revolutionaries armed with an assortment of military firearms.

One of them approached the Range Rover, and Joe Poche rolled down the window.

"Where are you going?" the revolutionary said in perfect English.

"I'm going to my mother-in-law's house in Abbas Abad," Poche said.

Bill thought: My God, what an idiotic story to tell.

Paul was looking away, hiding his face.

Another revolutionary came up and spoke in Farsi. The first man said: "Do you have any cigarettes?"

"No, I don't smoke," said Poche.

"Okay, go ahead."

Poche drove on down the Shahanshahi Expressway.

Coburn pulled the second car forward to where the revolutionaries stood.

"Are you with them?" he was asked.

"Yes."

"Do you have any cigarettes?"

"Yes." Coburn took a pack out of his pocket and tried to shake out a cigarette. His hands were unsteady and he could not get one out.

Simons said: "Jay."

"Yes."

"Give him the fucking pack."

Coburn gave the revolutionary the whole pack, and he waved them on.

2___

Ruthie Chiapparone was in bed, but awake, at the Nyfelers' house in Dallas when the phone rang.

She heard footsteps in the hall. The ringing stopped, and Jim Nyfeler's voice said: "Hello? ... Well, she's sleeping."

"I'm awake," Ruthie called. She got out of bed, slipped on a robe, and went into the hall.

"It's Tom Walter's wife, Jean," said Jim, handing her the phone.

Ruthie said: "Hi, Jean."

"Ruth, I have good news for you. The guys are free. They got out of jail."

"Oh, thank God!" said Ruthie.

She had not yet begun to wonder how Paul would get out of Iran.

When Emily Gaylord got back from church, her mother said: "Tom Walter called from Dallas. I said you'd call back."

Emily snatched up the phone, dialed EDS's number, and asked for Walter.

"Hi, Em'ly," Walter drawled. "Paul and Bill got out of jail."

"Tom, that's wonderful!"

"There was a jailbreak. They're safe, and they're in good hands."

"When are they coming home?"

"We're not sure yet, but we'll keep you posted."

"Thank you, Tom," said Emily. "Thank you!"

Ross Perot was in bed with Margot. The phone woke them both. Perot reached out and picked it up. "Yes."

"Ross, this is Tom Walter. Paul and Bill got out of jail."

Suddenly Perot was wide awake. He sat up. "That's great!"

Margot said sleepily: "They're out?"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Oh, good!"

Tom Walter was saying: "The jail was overrun by the revolutionaries, and Paul and Bill walked out."

Perot's mind was clicking into gear. "Where are they now?"

"At the hotel."

"That's dangerous, Tom. Is Simons there?"

"Uh, when I was talking to them, he was not there."

"Tell them to call him. Taylor knows the number. And get them out of that hotel!"

"Yes, sir."

"Call everyone into the office right away. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Yes, sir."

Perot hung up. He got out of bed, threw on some clothes, kissed Margot, and ran down the stairs. He went through the kitchen and out the back door. A security man, surprised to see him up so early, said: "Good morning, Mr. Perot."

"Morning." Perot decided to take Margo's Jaguar. He jumped in and raced down the driveway to the gate.

For six weeks he had felt as if he were living inside a popcorn popper. He had been trying everything, and nothing had worked; bad news had hit him from every direction--he had made no progress. Now, at last, things were moving.

He tore along Forest Lane, running red lights and breaking the speed limit. Getting them out of jail was the easy part, he reflected; now we have to get them out of Iran. The hard part hasn't even started.

In the next few minutes the whole team gathered at EDS headquarters on Forest Lane: Tom Walter, T. J. Marquez, Merv Stauffer, Perot's secretary Sally Walther, lawyer Tom Luce, and Mitch Hart, who--though he no longer worked at EDS--had been trying to use his connections in the Democratic party to help Paul and Bill.

Until now, communications with the negotiating team in Tehran had been organized from Bill Gayden's office on the fifth floor, while on the seventh floor Merv Stauffer was quietly handling support and communications with the illegal rescue team, talking on the phone in code. Now they all realized that Simons was the key figure in Tehran, and that whatever happened next would probably be illegal; so they moved up to Stauffer's office, which was also more private.

"I'm going to go to Washington right away," Perot told them. "Our best hope is still an air force jet out of Tehran."