On Wings Of Eagles (1990)

The others packed their suitcases and left them in their rooms, just in case they should get a chance to pick them up later. This was not part of Simons's instructions, and he would certainly have disapproved, for the packed bags showed that the EDS people were no longer living here--but by morning they all felt Simons was overdoing his security precautions. They gathered in Gayden's sitting room a few minutes after the seven o'clock deadline. The Gallaghers had several bags, and did not really look as if they were going to the office.

In the foyer they met the hotel manager. "Where are you going?" he asked incredulously.

"To the office," Gayden told him.

"Don't you know there's a civil war going on out there? All night long we've been feeding the revolutionaries out of our kitchens. They asked if there were any Americans here--I told them there was nobody here. You must go back upstairs and stay out of sight."

"Life must go on," said Gayden, and they all walked out.

Joe Poche was waiting in a Range Rover, silently fuming because they were fifteen minutes late and he had instructions from Simons to be back at seven forty-five, with or without them.

As they walked to the cars, Keane Taylor saw a hotel clerk drive in and park. He went over to speak to the man. "How are the streets?"

"Roadblocks all over the place," said the clerk. "There's one right here, at the end of the hotel driveway. You shouldn't go out."

"Thank you," said Taylor.

They all got into the cars and followed Poche's Range Rover. The guards at the gate were preoccupied, trying to jam a banana clip into a machine pistol that did not take that kind of ammunition, and they paid no attention to the three cars.

The scene outside was scary. Many of the weapons from the armory had found their way into the hands of teenage boys who had probably never handled firearms before, and the kids were running down the hill, yelling and waving their guns, and jumping into cars to tear off along the highway, shooting into the air.

Poche headed north on Shahanshahi, following a roundabout route to avoid roadblocks. At the intersection with Pahlavi there were the remains of a barricade--burned cars and tree trunks across the road--but the people manning the roadblock were celebrating, chanting and firing into the air, and the three cars drove straight through.

As they approached the hideout they entered a relatively quiet area. They turned into a narrow street; then, half a block down, they drove through gates into a walled garden with an empty swimming pool. The Dvoranchik place was the bottom half of a duplex, with the landlady living upstairs. They all went in.

During Monday, Dadgar continued to search for Paul and Bill.

Bill Gayden called Bucharest, where a skeleton staff of loyal Iranians continued to man the phones. Gayden learned that Dadgar's men had called twice, speaking to two different secretaries, and asked where they could find Mr. Chiapparone and Mr. Gaylord. The first secretary had said she did not know the names of any of the Americans, which was a brave lie--she had been working for EDS for four years and knew everyone. The second secretary had said: "You will have to speak to Mr. Lloyd Briggs, who is in charge of the office."

"Where is he?"

"Out of the country."

"Well, who is in charge of the office in his absence?"

"Mr. Keane Taylor."

"Let me speak to him."

"He's not here right now."

The girls, bless them, had given Dadgar's men the runaround.

Rich Gallagher was keeping in touch with his friends in the military (Cathy had a job as secretary to a colonel). He called the Evin Hotel, where most of the military were staying, and learned that "revolutionaries" had gone to both the Evin and the Hyatt showing photographs of two Americans for whom they were looking.

Dadgar's tenacity was almost incredible.

Simons decided they could not stay at the Dvoranchik house more than forty-eight hours.

The escape plan had been devised for five men. Now there were ten men, a woman, and a dog.

They had only two Range Rovers. An ordinary car would never take those mountain roads, especially in snow. They needed another Range Rover. Coburn called Majid and asked him to try to get one.

The dog worried Simons. Rich Gallagher was planning to carry Buffy in a knapsack. If they had to walk or ride horseback through the mountains to cross the border, a single yap could get them all kitted--and Buffy barked at everything. Simons said to Coburn and Taylor: "I want you two to lose that fucking dog."

"Okay," Coburn said. "Maybe I'll offer to walk it, then just let it go."

"No," said Simons. "When I say lose it, I mean permanently."