On Wings of Eagles (57 page)

skies over Tehran in a chartered jet.

    Jackson had stayed in Kuwait after reporting on the possibility of Paul and

    Bill coming out of Iran that way. On Sunday, the day Paul and Bill got out

    of jail, Simons had sent orders, via Merv Stauffer, that Jackson was to go

    to Amman, Jordan, and there try to charter a plane to fly into Iran.

    Jackson had reached Amman on Monday and had gone to work straightaway. He

    knew that Perot had flown into Tehran from Amman on a chartered jet of Arab

    Wings. He also knew that the president of Arab Wings, Akel Biltaji, had

    been helpful, allowing Perot to go in with NBC's television tapes as a

    cover. Now Jackson contacted BiltaJi and asked for his help again.

    He told BiltaJi that EDS had two men in Iran who had to be brought out. He

    invented false names for Paul and Bill. Even though Tehran Airport was

    closed, Jackson wanted to fly in and try to land. Biltaji was willing to

    give it a try.

    However, on Wednesday Stauffer-on Simons's instructionschanged Jackson's

    orders. Now his mission was to check on the Clean Team: the Dirty Team was

    no longer in Tehran, as far as Dallas knew.

On Thursday Jackson took off from Amman and headed east.

    As they came down toward the bowl in the mountains where Tehran nestled,

    two aircraft took off from the city.

    The planes came closer, and Jackson saw that they were fighter jets of the

    h-aman Air Force.

He wondered what would happen next.

    His pilot's radio came to life with a burst of static. As the fighters

    circled, the pilot talked: Jackson could not understand the conversation,

    but he was glad the Iranians were talking rather than shooting.

    The discussion went on. The pilot seemed to be arguing. Eventually he

    turned to Jackson and said: "We have to go back. They won't let us land."

"What will they do if we land anyway?"

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES 347

"Shoot us down."

"Okay," said Jackson. "We'll try again this afternoon.

On Thursday morning in Istanbul, an English-language newspaper was delivered

to Perot's suite at the Sheraton.

    He picked it up and eagerly read the front-page story about yesterday, s

    takeover of the American Embassy in Tehran. None of the Clean Team was

    mentioned, he was relieved to see. The only injury had been suffered by a

    marine sergeant, Kenneth Krause. However, Krause was not getting the

    medical attention he needed, according to the newspaper.

    Perot called John Carlen, the captain of the Boeing 707, and asked him to

    come to the suite. He showed Carlen the newspaper and said: "How would you

    feel about flying into Tehran tonight and picking up the wounded marine?"

    Carlen, a laid-back Californian with graying hair and a tan, was very cool.

    "We can do that," he said.

    Perot was surprised that Carlen did not even hesitate. He would have to fly

    through the mountains at night with no airtraffic control to help him, and

    land at a closed airport. "Don't you want to talk to the rest of the crew?"

    Perot asked.

    "No, they'll want to do it. The people who own the airplane will go

    bananas."

"Don't tell them. I'll be responsible.-

    "I'll need to know exactly where that marine is going to be," Carlen went

    on. "The Embassy will have to get him to the airport. I know a lot of

    people at that airport-I can talk my way in, bending the rules a little

    bit, and either talk my way out again or just take off."

    Perot thought: And the Clean Team will be the stretcher bearers.

    He called Dallas and reached Sally Walther, his secretary. He asked her to

    patch him through to General Wilson, commandant of the Marine Corps. He and

    Wilson were friends.

Wilson came on the line.

    "I'm in Turkey on business ,, Perot told him. "I've just read about

    Sergeant Krause. I have a plane here. If the Embassy can get Krause to the

    airport, we will fly in tonight and pick him up and see he gets proper

    medical care."

    "All right," said Wilson. "If he's dying I want you to pick him up. If not,

    I won't risk your crew. I'll get back to you."

Perot got Sally back on the line. There was more bad news. A

348 Ken Follett

press officer in the State Department's Iran Task Force had talked to Robert

Dudney, Washington correspondent for the Dallas Times-Herald, and revealed

that Paul and Bill were on their way out overland.

    Perot cursed the State Department yet again. If Dudney published the story,

    and the news reached Tehran, Dadgar would surely intensify border security.

    The seventh floor in Dallas blamed Perot for all this. He had leveled with

    the Consul, who had come to see him the night before, and they believed the

    leak started with the Consul. They were now frantically trying to get the

    story killed, but the newspaper was making no promises.

    General Wilson called back. Sergeant Krause was not dying: Perot's help was

    not required.

Perot forgot about Krause and concentrated on Ins own problems.

    The Consul called him. He had tried his best, but he could not help Perot

    buy or rent a small aircraft. It was possible to charter a plane to go from

    one airport to another within Turkey, but that was all.

Perot said nothing to him about the press leak.

    He called in Dick Douglas and Julian "Scratch" Kanauch, the two spare

    pilots he had brought specifically to fly small aircraft into Iran, and

    told them he had failed to find any such aircraft.

"Don't worry," said Douglas. "We'll get an airplane."

"How?"

"Don't ask."

:'No, I want to know how.

    'I've operated in eastern Turkey. I know where there are planes. If you

    need 'em, we'll steal 9em."

:'Have you thought this through?" said Perot.

    'You think it through," Douglas said. "If we get shot down over Iran, what

    difference does it make that we stole the plane? If we don't get shot down,

    we can put the planes back where we got them. Even if they have a few holes

    in them, we'll be out of the area before anybody knows. What else is there

    to think about?"

"That settles it," said Perot. "We're going."

    He sent John Carlen and Ron Davis to the airport to file a flight plan to

    Van, the nearest airport to the border.

    Davis called from the airport to say that the 707 could not land at Van: it

    was a Turkish-language-only airport, so no foreign

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES 349

planes were allowed to land except U.S. military planes carrying

interpreters.

    Perot called Mr. Fish and asked him to arrange to fly the team to Van. Mr.

    Fish called back a few minutes later to say it was all fixed. He would go

    with the team as guide. Perot was surprised: until now, Mr. Fish had been

    adamant that he would not go to eastern Turkey. Perhaps he had become

    infected by the spirit of adventure.

    However, Perot himself would have to stay behind. He was the hub of the

    wheel: he had to stay in telephone contact with the outside world, to

    receive reports from Boulware, from Dallas, from the Clean Team, and from

    the Dirty Team. If the 707 had been able to land at Van, Perot could have

    gone, for the plane's single-sideband radio enabled him to make phone calls

    all over the world; but without that radio he would be out of touch in

    eastern Turkey, and there would be no link between the fugitives in Iran

    and the people who were coming to meet them.

    So he sent Pat Sculley, Jim Schwebach, Ron Davis, Mr. Fish, and the pilots

    Dick Douglas and Julian Kanauch to Van; and he appointed Pat Sculley leader

    of the Turkish Rescue Team.

    When they had gone he was dead in the water again. They were just another

    bunch of his men off doing dangerous things in dangerous places. He could

    only sit and wait for news.

    He spent a lot of time thinking about John Carlen and the crew of the

    Boeing 707. He had only known them for a few days: they were ordinary

    Americans. Yet Carlen had been prepared to risk his life to fly into Tehran

    and pick up a wounded marine. As Simons would say: This is what Americans

    are supposed to do for one another. It made Perot feel pretty good, despite

    everything.

The phone rang.

He answered. "Ross Perot."

"This is Ralph Boulware.-

"Hi, Ralph, where are you?"

"I'm at the border."

"Good! -

"I've just seen Rashid."

Perot's heart leaped. "Great! What did he say?"

. 'They're safe.

"Thank God!"

    "They're in a hotel thirty or forty miles from the border. Rashid is just

    scouting the territory in advance. He's gone back now. He says they'll

    probably cross tomorrow, but that's just his

350 Ken Follett

idea, and Simons may think otherwise. If they're that close I don't see

Simons waiting until morning."

    "Right. Now, Pat Sculley and Mr. Fish and the rest of the guys are on their

    way to you. They're flying to Van, then they'll rent a bus. Now, where will

    they find you?"

    "I'm based in a village called Yuksekova, closest place to the border, at

    a hotel. It's the only hotel in the district."

"I'll tell Sculley."

"Okay. 11

    Perot hung up. Oh, boy, he thought; at last things are beginning to go

    right!

Pat Sculley's orders from Perot were to go to the border, ensure that the

Dirty Team got across safely, and bring them to Istanbul. If the Dirty Team

failed to reach the border, he was to go into Iran and find them, preferably

in a plane stolen by Dick Douglas, or failing that, by road.

    Sculley and the Turkish Rescue Team took a scheduled flight from Istanbul

    to Ankara, where a chartered jet was waiting for them. (The charter plane

    would take them to Van and bring them back: it would not go anywhere they

    pleased. The only way of making the pilot take them into Iran would have

    been to hijack the plane.)

    The arrival of a jet seemed to be a big event in the town of Van. Getting

    off the plane, they were met by a contingent of policemen who looked ready

    to give them a hard time. But Mr. Fish went into a huddle with the police

    chief and came out smiling.

    "Now, listen," said Mr. Fish. "We're going to check into the best hotel in

    town, but I want you to know it's not the Sheraton, so please don't

    complain."

They went off in two taxis.

    The hotel had a high central hall with three floors of rooms reached via

    galleries, so that every room door could be seen from the hall. When the

    Americans walked in, the hall was full of Turks, drinking beer and watching

    a soccer match on a black-and-white TV, yelling and cheering. As the Turks

    noticed the strangers, the room quieted down until there was complete

    silence.

    They were assigned rooms. Each bedroom had two cots and a hole in the

    comer, screened by a shower curtain, for a toilet,. There were plank floors

    and whitewashed walls without windows.

    ON WINGS OF EAGLES 351

The rooms were infested with cockroaches. On each floor was one bathroom.

    Sculley and Mr. Fish went to get a bus to take diem all to the border. A

    Mercedes picked them up outside the hotel and took them to what appeared to

    be an electrical appliance store with a few ancient TV sets in the window.

    The place was closed-4t was evening by now-but Mr. Fish banged on the iron

    grille protecting the windows, and someone came out.

    They went into the back and sat at a table under a single light bulb.

    Sculley understood none of the conversation, but by the end of it Mr. Fish

    had negotiated a bus and a driver. They returned to the hotel in the bus.

    The rest of the team were gathered in Sculley's room. Nobody wanted to sit

    on these beds, let alone sleep in diem. They all wanted to leave for the

    border immediately, but Mr. Fish was hesitant. "It's two o'clock in the

    morning," he said. "And the police are watching the hotel."

"Does that matter?" said Sculley.

"It means more questions, more trouble."

"Let's give it a try."

    They all trooped downstairs. The manager appeared, looking anxious, and

    started to question Mr. Fish. Then, sure enough, two policemen came in from

    outside and joined in the discussion.

    Mr. Fish turned to Sculley and said: "They don't want us to go. 11

-Why not?"

"We look very suspicious, don't you realize that9-

"Look, is it against the law for us to go?"

"No, but-"

"Then we're going. Just tell them."

    There was more argument in Turkish, but finally the policemen and the hotel

    manager appeared to give in, and the team boarded the bus.

    They left town. The temperature dropped rapidly as they drove up into the