On Wings Of Eagles (1990)

At EDS there was a special group of Perot associates, men such as T. J. Marquez and Merv Stauffer, to whom he turned for help with matters that were not part of the day-to-day business of computer software: schemes like the prisoners-of-war campaign, the Texas War on Drugs, and the rescue of Paul and Bill. Although Meyerson did not get involved in Perot's special projects, he was fully informed about the rescue plan and had given it his blessing: he knew Paul and Bill well, having worked alongside them in earlier years as a systems engineer. For business matters he was Perot's top man, and he would soon become president of EDS. (Perot would continue to be chairman of the board.)

Now Perot and Meyerson talked business, reviewing each of EDS's current projects and problems. Both knew, though neither said, that the reason for the conference was that Perot might never come back from Turkey.

In some ways the two men were as different as chalk and cheese. Meyerson's grandfather was a Russian Jew who had saved for two years to buy his rail ticket from New York to Texas. Meyerson's interests ranged from athletics to the arts: he played handball, was involved with the Dallas Symphony Orchestra and was himself a good pianist. Making fun of Perot and his "eagles," Meyerson called his own close colleagues "Meyerson's toads." But in many ways he was like Perot, a creative and daring businessman whose bold ideas often scared more conventional executives in EDS. Perot had given instructions that, if something were to happen to him during the rescue, all his stock would be voted by Meyerson. EDS would continue to be run by a leader, not a bureaucrat.

While Perot discussed business and worried about the plane and fumed against the State Department, his deepest concern was for his mother. Lulu May Perot was sinking fast, and Perot wanted to be with her. If she were to die while he was in Turkey, he would never see her again, and that would break his heart.

Meyerson knew what was on his mind. He broke off the business talk to say: "Ross, why don't I go?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't I go to Turkey instead of you? You've done your share--you went to Iran. There's nothing you can do that I can't do in Turkey. And you want to stay with your mother."

Perot was touched. Mort didn't have to say that, he thought. "If you're willing..." He was tempted. "That's something I'd sure want to think about. Let me think about it."

He was not sure he had the right to let Meyerson do this instead of him. "Let's see what the others think." He picked up the phone, called Dallas, and reached T. J. Marquez. "Mort's offered to go to Turkey instead of me," he told T. J. "What's your reaction to that?"

"It's the worst idea in the world," T. J. said. "You've been close to this project from the start, and you couldn't possibly tell Mort everything he needs to know in a few hours. You know Simons, you know how his mind works--Mort doesn't. Plus, Simons doesn't know Mort--and you're aware of how Simons feels about trusting people he doesn't know. Well, he won't trust them, that's how he feels."

"You're right," Perot said. "It's not for consideration."

He hung up. "Mort, I sure appreciate your offer, but I'm going to Turkey."

"Whatever you say."

A few minutes later Meyerson left, to return to Dallas in the chartered Lear jet. Perot called EDS again and spoke to Merv Stauffer. "Now, I want you guys to work in shifts and get some sleep," Perot said. "I don't want to be talking to a bunch of zombies back there."

"Yes, sir!"

Perot took his own advice and got some sleep.

The phone woke him at two A.M. It was Pat Sculley, calling from the airport: the plane's mechanical problems were fixed.

Perot got a cab to Dulles Airport. It was a hair-raising thirty-mile ride on icy roads.

The Turkish Rescue Team was now together: Perot; Pat Sculley and Jim Schwebach--the deadly duo; young Ron Davis; the crew of the 707; and the two extra pilots, Dick Douglas and Julian "Scratch" Kanauch. But the plane was not mended. It needed a spare part that was not available in Washington. Gary Femandes--the EDS manager who had worked on the leasing contract for the plane--had a friend who was in charge of ground support for one of the airlines at New York's LaGuardia Airport: he called the friend, and the friend got out of bed, found the part, and put it on a plane for Washington. Meanwhile, Perot lay down on a bench in the terminal and slept for a couple more hours.

They boarded at six A.M. Perot looked around the interior of the aircraft in amazement. It had a bedroom with a king-size bed, three bars, a sophisticated hi-fi system, a television, and an office with a phone. There were plush carpets, suede upholstery, and velvet walls. "It looks like a Persian whorehouse," said Perot, although he had never seen a Persian whorehouse.