On Wings Of Eagles (1990)

Boulware was not sure he had made the right decision in leaving the border station. So many things could go wrong: the guards might not phone as they had promised. He decided to accept the offer of help from the American Consulate, and ask them to seek permission for him to stay at the border station. He called the number he had been given on the hotel's single ancient windup telephone. He got through, but the line was bad, and both parties had trouble making themselves understood. Eventually the man at the other end said something about calling back, and hung up.

Boulware stood by the fire, fretting. After a while he lost patience, and decided to return to the border without permission.

On the way they had a flat tire.

They all stood in the road while the sons changed the wheel. Ilsman appeared nervous. Charlie explained: "He says this is a very dangerous place--the people are all murderers and bandits."

Boulware was skeptical. Ilsman had agreed to do all this for a flat fee of eight thousand dollars, and Boulware now suspected the fat man was getting ready to up his price. "Ask him how many people were killed on this road last month," Boulware told Charlie.

He watched Ilsman' face as he replied. Charlie translated : "Thirty-nine."

Ilsman looked serious. Boulware thought: Shit, this guy's telling the goddam truth. He looked around. Mountains, snow... He shivered.

3_______

In Rezaiyeh, Rashid took one of the Range Rovers and drove from the hotel back to the school that had been turned into revolutionary headquarters.

He wondered whether the deputy leader had called Tehran. Coburn had been unable to get a line the previous night: would the revolutionary leadership have the same problem? Rashid thought they probably would. Now, if the deputy could not get through, what would he want to do? He had only two options: hold the Americans, or let them go without checking. The man might feel foolish about letting them go without checking: he might not want Rashid to know that things were so loosely organized here. Rashid decided to act as if he assumed the call had been made and verification completed.

He went into the courtyard. The deputy leader was there, leaning against a Mercedes. Rashid started talking to him about the problem of bringing six thousand Americans through the town on the way to the border. How many people could be accommodated overnight in Rezaiyeh? What facilities were there at the Sero border station for processing them? He emphasized that the Ayatollah Khomeini had given instructions for Americans to be well treated as they left Iran, for the new government did not want to quarrel with the U.S.A. He got onto the subject of documentation: perhaps the Rezaiyeh committee should issue passes to the Americans authorizing them to go through Sero. He, Rashid, would certainly need such a pass today, to take these six Americans through. He suggested the deputy and he should go into the school and draft a pass.

The deputy agreed.

They went into the library.

Rashid found paper and pen and gave them to the deputy.

"What should we write?" said Rashid. "Probably we should say, the person who carries this letter can take six Americans through Sero. No, say Barzagan or Sero, in case Sero is closed."

The deputy wrote.

"Maybe we should say, um: It is expected that all guards will give their best cooperation and assistance, they are fully inspected and identified, and if necessary escort them."

The deputy wrote it down.

Then he signed his name.

Rashid said: "Maybe we should put, Islamic Revolution Commandant Committee."

The deputy did so.

Rashid looked at the document. It seemed somehow inadequate, improvised. It needed something to make it look official. He found a rubber stamp and an inking pad, and stamped the letter. Then he read what the stamp said: "Library of the School of Religion, Rezaiyeh. Founded 1344."

Rashid put the document in his pocket.

"We should probably print six thousand of these, so they can just be signed," he said.

The deputy nodded.

"We can talk some more about these arrangements tomorrow," Rashid went on. "I'd like to go to Sero now, to discuss the problem with the border officials there."

"Okay."

Rashid walked away.

Nothing was impossible.

He got into the Range Rover. It was a good idea to go to the border, he decided: he could find out what the problems might be before making the trip with the Americans.

On the outskirts of Rezaiyeh was a roadblock manned by teenage boys with rifles. They gave Rashid no trouble, but he worried about how they might react to six Americans: the kids were evidently itching to use their guns.

After that the road was clear. It was a dirt road, but smooth enough, and he made good speed. He picked up a hitchhiker and asked him about crossing the border on horseback. No problem, said the hitchhiker. It could be done, and as it happened, his brother had horses ...