Follett, Ken - On Wings of Eagles.txt

by On Wings of Eagles [lit]

  41you mean Dadgar?"

  "You'll never learn, will you?"

  As well as finding out what Deep Throat's proposal was, Coburn had to make

  a personal evaluation of the man. Well, he had made it now: Deep Throat was

  full of shit.

  "Okay," Coburn said. "We'll be in touch."

  Keane Taylor poured a little nun into a big glass, added ice, and filled the

  glass with Coke. This was his regular drink.

  Taylor was a big man, six foot two, 210 pounds, with a chest like a barrel.

  He had played football in the marines. He took care with his clothes,

  favoring suits with deep-plunging vests and shirts with button-down

  collars. He wore large gold-rimmed glasses. He was thirty-nine, and losing

  his hair.

  The young Taylor had been a hell-raiser--a dropout from college, busted

  down from sergeant in the marines for discipfinary offenses--aiid he still

  disliked close supervision. He pref6rred working in the World subsidiary of

  EDS because the head office was so far away.

  He was under close supervision now. After four days in Tehran, Ross Perot

  was savage.

  Taylor dreaded the evening debriefing sessions with his boss. After he and

  Howell had spent the day dashing wound the city, fighting the traffic, the

  demonstrations, and the intransigence of Iranian officialdom, they would

  then have to explain to Perot why they had achieved precisely nothing.

  To make matters worse, Perot was confined to the hotel most of the time. He

  had gone out only twice: once to the U.S. Embassy and once to U.S. Military

  Headquarters. Taylor had made sure no one offered him the keys to a car or

  any local currency, to discourage any impulse Perot nught have had to take

  a walk. But the result was that Perot was like a caged bear, and being

  debriefed by him was like getting into the cage with the bear.

  At least Taylor no longer had to pretend that he did not know about the

  rescue team. Coburn had taken him to meet Simons, and they had talked for

  three hour&--or rather, Taylor had

  ON WINGS OF EAGLES 181

  talked: Simons just asked questions. They had sat in the living room of

  Taylor's house, with Simons dropping cigar ash on Taylor's carpet, and

  Taylor had told him that Iran was like an annual with its head cut off- the

  head-the ministers and officialswere still trying to give orders, but the

  body-the Iranian peoplewere off doing their own thing. Consequently,

  political pressure would not free Paul and Bill: they would have to be

  bailed out or rescued. For three hours Simons had never changed the tone of.

  his voice, never offered an opinion, never even moved from his chair.

  But the Simons ice was easier to deal with than the Perot fire. Each

  morning Perot would knock on the door while Taylor was shaving. Taylor got

  up a little earlier each day, in order to be ready when Perot came, but

  Perot got up earlier each day, too, until Taylor began to fantasize that

  Perot listened outside the door all night, waiting to catch him shaving.

  Perot would be fun of ideas that had come to him during the night: new

  arguments for Paul and Bill's innocence, new schemes for persuading the

  Iranians to release diem. Taylor and John Howell---the tall and the short,

  like Batman and Robui-would head off in the Batmobile to the Ministry of

  Justice or the Ministry of Health, where officials would demolish Perot's

  ideas in seconds. Perot was still using a legalistic, rational, American

  approach, and, in Taylor's opinion, had yet to realize that the Iranians

  were not playing according to those rules.

  This was not all Taylor had on his mind. His wife, Mary, and the children,

  Mike and Dawn, were staying with his parents in Pittsburgh. Taylor's mother

  and father were both over eighty, both in failing health. His mother had a

  heart condition. Mary was having to deal with that on her own. She had not

  complained, but he could tell, when he talked to her on the phone, that she

  was not happy.

  Taylor sighed. He could not cope with all the world's problems at one time.

  He topped up his drink; then, carrying the glass, left his room and went to

  Perot's suite for the evening bloodbath.

  Perot paced up and down the sitting room of his suite, waiting for the

  negotiating team to gather. He was doing no good here in Tehran and he knew

  it.

  He had suffered a chilly reception at the U.S. Embassy. He had been shown

  into the office of Charles Naas, the Ambassador's

  182 Ken Folku

  deputy. Naas had been gracious, but had given Perot the same old story about

  how EDS should work through the legal system for the release of Paul and

  Bill. Perot had insisted on seeing the Ambassador. He had come halfway

  around the world to see Sullivan, and he was not going to leave before

  speaking to him. Eventually Sullivan came in, shook Perot's hand, and told

  him he was most unwise to come to Iran. It was clear that Perot was a

  problem and Sullivan did not want any more problems. He talked for a while,

  but did not sit down, and he left as soon as he could. Perot was not used to

  such treatment. He was, after all, an important American, and in nornial

  circumstances a diplomat such as Sullivan would be at least courteous, if

  not deferential.

  Perot also met Lou Goelz, who seemed sincerely concerned about Paul and

  Bill but offered no concrete help.

  Outside Naas's office he ran into a group of military attachA-s who

  recognized him. Since the prisoners-of-war campaign Perot had always been

  able to count on a warm reception from the American military. He sat down

  with the attach6s and told them his problem. They said candidly that they

  could not help. "LoOk, forget what you read in the paper, forget what the

  State Department is saying publicly," one of them told him. "We don't have

  any power here, we don't have any control--you're wasting your time in the

  U.S. Embassy."

  Perot had also wasted his time at U.S. Military Headquarters. Cathy

  Gallagher's boss, Colonel Keith Barlow, Chief of the U.S. Support Activity

  Command in Iran, had sent a bulletproof car to the Hyatt. Perot had got in

  with Rich Gallagher. The driver had been Iranian: Perot wondered which side

  he was on.

  T'hey met with Air Force General Phillip Gast, cluef of the U.S. Military

  Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG) in h-an, and General "Dutch" Huyser. Perot

  knew Huyser slightly, and remembered him as a strong, dynamic man; but now

  he looked drained. Perot knew from the newspapers that Huyser was President

  Carter's emissary, here to persuade the Iranian military to back the doomed

  Bakhtiar government; and Perot guessed that Huyser had no stomach for the

  job.

  Huyser candidly said he would like to help Paul and Bill but at the moment

  he had no leverage with the Iranians: he had nothing to trade. Even if they

  got out of jail, Huyser said, they would be in danger here. Perot told them

  he had that taken care of. Bull Simons was here to look after Paul and Bill

  once they got out. Huyser burst out laughing, and a moment later Gast saw

  the

  ON WINGS OF EAGLES 183

  joke. They knew
who Simons was, and they knew he would be planning more than

  a baby-sitting job.

  Gast offered to supply fuel to Simons, but that was all. Warm words from

  the military, cold words from the Embassy; little or no real help from

  either. And nothing but excuses from Howell and Taylor.

  Sitting in a hotel room all day was driving Perot crazy. Today Cathy

  Gallagher had asked him to take care of her poodle, Buffy. She made it

  sound like an honor-a measure of her high esteem for Perot-md he had been

  so surprised that he had agreed. Sitting looking at the animal, he had

  realized that this was a funny occupation for the leader of a major

  international business, and he wondered how the hell he had let himself be

  talked into it. He got no sympathy from Keane Taylor, who thought it was

  funny as hell. After a few hours Cathy had come back from the hairdresser's

  or wherever she had been, and had taken the dog back; but Perot's mood

  remained black.

  There was a knock at Perot's door, and Taylor came in, carrying his usual

  drink. He was followed by John Howell, Rich Gallagher, and Bob Young. They

  all sat down.

  "Now," said Perot, "did you tell them that we'd guarantee to produce Paul

  and Bill for questioning anywhere in the U.S. or Europe, on thirty days'

  notice, at any time in the next two years?"

  "They're not interested in that idea," said Howell.

  "What do you mean, they're not interested?"

  I 'I'm just telling you what they said-"

  "But if this is an investigation, rather than a blackmail attempt, all they

  need is to be sure that Paul and Bill will be available for questioning. 11

  "'Ibey're sure already. I guess they see no reason to make changes. "

  It was maddening. There seemed no way to reason with the Iranians, no way

  to reach them. "Did you suggest they release Paul and Bill into the custody

  of the U.S. Embassy?"

  "They turned that down, too."

  I.Why?"

  "They didn't say."

  "Did you ask diem?"

  "Ross, they don't have to give moons. They're in charge here, and they know

  it.9f

  "But they're responsible for the safety of their prisoners."

  184 Ken Folleu

  "It's a responsibility that doesn't seem to weigh too heavily on them. -

  Taylor said: "Ross, they're not playing by our rules. Putting two men in

  jail is not a big deal to them. Paul and Bill's safety is not a big deal--"

  "So what rules are they playing by? Can you tell me that?"

  There was a knock at the door and Coburn walked in, wearing his Michelin

  Man coat and his black knit hat. Perot brightened: perhaps he would have

  good news. "Did you meet with Deep lbroat?"

  "Sure did," said Coburn, taking off his coat.

  "All right, let's have it."

  "He says he can get Paul and Bill released for six million dollars. The

  money would be paid into an escrow account in Switzerland and released when

  Paul and Bill leave Iran."

  "Hell, that ain't bad," said Perot. "We get out with fifty cents on the

  dollar. Under U.S. law it would even be legal-it's a ransom. What kind of

  guy is Deep Throat?"

  "I don't trust the bastard," said Coburn.

  .1)"Y?"

  Coburn shrugged. "I don't know, Ross . He's shifty, flaky ... A bullshitter

  ... I wouldn't give him sixty cents to go to the store and get me a pack of

  cigarettes. That's my gut feeling. "

  "But, listen, what do you expect?" Perot said. "This is bribery-pillars of

  the community don't get involved in this kind of thing."

  Howell said: "You said it. This is bribery." His deliberate, throaty voice

  was unusually passionate. "I don't like this one bit. "

  "I don't like it," Perot said. "But you've all been telling me that the

  Iranians aren't playing by our rules."

  "Yes, but listen," Howell said fervently. "The straw I've been clinging to

  all through this is that we've done nothing wrong-and someday, somehow,

  somewhere, somebody is going to recognize that, and then all this will

  evaporate ... I'd hate to give up that straw."

  :'It hasn't got us far."

  'Ross, I believe that with time and patience we will succeed. But if we get

  involved in bribery we no longer have a case!"

  Perot turned to Coburn. "How do we know Deep Throat has a deal wired with

  Dadgar?9'

  ON WINGS OF EAGLES 185

  "We don't know," Coburn said. "His argument is, we don't pay until we get

  results, so what do we have to lose?"

  "Everything," Howell said. "Never mind what is legal in the United States,

  this could seal our fate in Iran. -

  Taylor said: "It stinks. The whole thing stinks."

  Perot was surprised by their reactions. He, too, hated the idea of bribery,

  but he was prepared to compromise his principles to get Paul and Bill out

  of jail. The good name of EDS was precious to him, and he was loath to let

  it be associated with corruption, just as John Howell was; but Perot knew

  something Howell did not know: that Colonel Simons and the rescue team

  faced risks more grave than this.

  Perot said: "Our good name hasn't done Paul and Bill any good so far.' I

  "It's not just out good name," Howell persisted. "Dadgar must be pretty

  sure by now that we aren't guilty of corruptionbut if he could catch us in

  a bribe situation he could still save face. -

  That was a point, Perot thought. "Could this be a trap?"

  -Yes!"

  It made sense. Unable to get any evidence against Paul and Bill, Dadgar

  pretends to Deep Throat that he can be bribed, then-when Perot falls for

  it-announces to the world that EDS is, after all, corrupt. Then they would

  all be put in jail with Paul and Bill. And, being guilty, they would stay

  there.

  "All right," said Perot reluctantly. "Call Deep Throat and tell him no,

  thanks."

  Coburn stood up. "Okay.

  It had been another fruitless day, Perot thought. The Iranians had him all

  ways. Political pressure they ignored. Bribery could make matters worse. If

  EDS paid the bail, Paul and Bill would still be kept in Iran.

  Simons's team still looked like the best bet.

  But he was not going to tell the negotiating team that.

  'All right," he said. "We'll just try again tomorrow."

  186 Ken Folku

  3

  Tall Keane Taylor and short John Howell, like Batman and Robin, tried again

  on January 17. They drove to the Ministry of Health budding on Eisenhower

  Avenue, taking Abolhasan as interpreter, and met Dadgar at ten A.M. With

  Dadgar were officials of the Social Security Organization, the department of

  the Ministry that was ran by EDS's computers.

  Howell had decided to abandon his initial negotiating position, that EDS

  could not pay the bail because of American securities law. It was equally

  useless to demand to know the charges against Paul and Bill and what

  evidence there was: Dadgar could stonewall that approach by saying he was

  still investigating. But Howell did not have a new strategy to replace the

  old. He was playing poker with no cards in his hand. Perhaps Dadgar would

  deal him some today.

  Dadgar began by explaining that the staff of the
Social Secutity

  Organization wanted EDS to turn over to them what was known as the 125 Data

  Center.

  This small computer, Howell recalled, ran the payroll and pensions for the

  Social Security Organization staff. What these people wanted was to get

  their own wages, even while Iranians generally were not getting their

  social-security benefits.

  Keane Taylor said: "It's not that simple. Such a turnover would be a very

  complex operation needing many skilled staff Of course they am all back in

  the States."

  Dadgar replied: "Then you should bring them back in."

  "I'm not that stupid," Taylor said.

  Taylor's Marine Corps sensitivity training was operating, Howell thought.

  Dadgar said: "if he speaks like this, he will go to jail.

  "Just as my staff would if I brought them back to Iran," said Taylor.

  Howell broke in: "Would you be able to give a legal guarantee that any

  returning staff would not be arrested or harassed in any wayT I

  .'I could not give a formal guarantee," Dadgar replied. "However, I would

  give my personal word of honor."

  ON WINGS OF EAGLES 187

  Howell darted an anxious glance at Taylor. Taylor did not speak, but his

  expression said he would not give two cents for Dadgar's word of honor. "We

  could certainly investigate ways of arranging the turnover," Howell said.

  Dadgar had at last given him something to bargain with, even though it was

  not much. "There would have to be safeguards, of course. For example, you

  would have to certify that the machinery was handed over to you in good

  condition-but perhaps we could employ independent experts to do that . . .-

  Howell was shadowboxing. If the data center was handed over, there would be

  a price: the release of Paul and Bill.

  Dadgar demolished that idea with his next sentence. "Every day new

  complaints are being made about your company to my investigators,

  complaints that would justify increases in the bail. However, if you

  cooperate in the winover of the 125 Data Center, I can in return ignore the

  new complaints and refrain from increasing the bail."

  Taylor said: "Goddammit, this is nothing but blackmaill

  Howell realized that the 125 Data Center was a sideshow. Dadgar had raised

  the question, no doubt at the urging of these officials, but he did not