In the Lap of the Gods

by Tony Criddle

  Sinclair nodded.

  “Okay, this one’s for you Fred. When we get to the ward you slip in and tape up the nurse. She’ll probably be dozing too. After that, show your face carefully to Laleh and tell her to get dressed. She can tell the other locals a taxi will come to the accommodation blocks soon after we do escort them out, but don’t forget to give them some money just in case.” Both the Scot and Amini nodded this time.

  Nick paused to think.

  “I should have clobbered the guard by the time you’re done Fred, so don’t hang around. You can subdue the other nurse while I’m taping the copper then we’ll lock them in the medical store. One of the nurses is sure to have the key, or at least know where it is, and Abdul knows to stay in his room until we go for him.”

  “Sounds simple enough to me laddie. We should be on our way fifteen minutes after that.”

  The last hour went slowly enough, but the last ten minutes were like drawing teeth without novocaine. By then they’d unconsciously slipped into whispering, and Amini was actually fidgeting. Nick looked at his watch for the umpteenth time and saw it was ten after two. Close enough.

  “Hand me my club and the sock Fred, then cock your piece.” The snick of the sliding breech sounded like thunder in the quiet car.

  “Okay. Take the tape Farhad. You’ll need it to tie up the nurse in the ward, and don’t forget to tape the exit doors together again after we’re in either. Use a fresh bit of tape, not the bit Abdul used, we don’t want them blowing open. Here, take my pocket knife as well.” He passed one of the smaller Swiss army knives across. “Okay guys, let’s do it.”

  All three got out. Farhad Amini, distracted, shut his car door firmly then hissed a quiet ‘sorry’, the other two half closed theirs gently. Jock Sinclair followed them to the bushes but then crouched, watching the other two cross the road and ease the exit open. Seconds later it was if nothing had happened. He climbed back into the driver’s seat but left his car door partly open. They’d want twenty minutes before he needed to move.

  The lights in the corridor had been switched to just one bulb out of three, but it was enough for them to see what they were doing. Both the medical store and cleaning cupboard were marked with brass plates, but what they said was conjecture to Nick. They were in Farsi.

  A few metres further on a dim night light struggled to illuminate the corridor outside the ward, and here Amini touched Nick’s arm lightly and took the lead. He peered carefully though the glass top of the swing-door then turned and put his lips near Nick’s ear.

  “Piece of cake mate. She’s actually got her head on her hands on the desk.”

  Nick whispered too. “I’ll give you five to sort her out and talk to Laleh before I go for the guard.”

  The pilot continued slowly towards the lounge area on the balls of his feet. Amini eased open the ward door. The night lights were dim, bordering on gloomy, and no-one moved in the occupied beds.

  The nurse didn’t stir when Amini opened the small office door, and merely grunted when he unrolled a couple of feet of tape. She lifted bleary eyes only when he wrapped her wrists with tape. She had barely started to open her mouth when he closed it again with another strip. Amini put his lips alongside her ear and whispered in Farsi.

  “Complete silence and you won’t get hurt. This is nothing to do with you.” She turned terrified eyes towards him, and he wriggled his automatic before returning it to a pocket. The eyes behind the slit in the shemagh looked cold and intense, but nothing else showed. She nodded, still terrified. “Okay. I’m going to tape your feet and we’ll be gone in ten minutes. She swung her lower legs towards him almost eagerly.

  In the ward Amini saw that three men were ranged on one side, the three women opposite them, and the flowing screens around the occupied beds had been partially deployed. Up to then it had been pretty quiet, but now several of the patients twisted and muttered close to consciousness. It must be a thing of the senses. He located the bed that Laleh occupied, opened his head-dress and clamped her mouth gently with his hand.

  She woke instantly, her eyes wide and fearful, but fortunately recognised him even with an upright finger to his lips. He nodded and she nodded too. The fear drained instantly from her eyes. Amini dropped the finger and his hand from around her mouth. She struggled to a sitting position.

  “No questions now Laleh,” it was breathed more than whispered. “Get dressed and ready to travel, speak in Farsi only, and don’t identify me at all. Okay about that?”

  His sister nodded.

  “Okay, I’ve got to help some friends who are with me, so you get the other Iranians up and dressed and wait for us. No matter what you hear, wait until we come for you.” Amini’s five minutes were about up. He hurried from the ward.

  Nick took his time easing along the corridor wall, the eighteen inches of covered lead pipe hanging in his right hand. He occasionally flicked his eyes down to see where he was walking. When he reached the lounge he cupped an ear just short of the corner then tightened his grip. Craning forward, he could see that the other nurse was also dozing, but this time slouched upright in her chair. He had to step further to see around the near corner to locate the guard. He took another tentative pace.

  The Kalashnikov was leant casually against the glass coffee table, but there was no sign of the guard. Nick straightened in confusion and stepped further forward to clear his vision.

  Already hyped, Nick didn’t register the click of the toilet door opening, and the guard was almost on him before the self-closing arm on the door slammed it shut. He spun but the hand holding the cosh was still by his side.

  With his face already streaked with mobile sweat, the heavier guard propelled Nick backwards over the sofa, his hands groping for the pilot’s eyes. They bounced onto the floor with the Iranian still on top, but his hands had either been dislodged, or he’d used them to protect himself. Nick saw a chance, and dropped the lead pipe. It was too cumbersome to manoeuvre from underneath. He drove his palm into the savagely distorted face above. It wasn’t as forceful as he’d hoped, his position was wrong for that, but the heel of his palm did hit under the bridge of the nose. The guard reared backwards, his eyes streaming, and it allowed Nick to get his left hand between them as well. This time, in shear desperation, he went for the eyes and mouth, and it was then that the Iranian remembered he had a bayonet.

  The guard twisted to his left to get at the steel and for a second Nick thought he had him. When the Iranian rolled back and the point nicked the left side of his neck, he knew he didn’t. He struggled even more fiercely, getting his hands around the guards wrist, and with a super-human effort forced the sharp blade several inches from his throat. The guards face distorted with an even greater effort, and he had gravity and weight on his side. The vicious blade crept closer again, and Nick could feel his arm muscles burning.

  When he was operational in the navy Nick’s personal weapon had been a Browning 9 millimetre, and that sound was totally different from the strange metallic slap he now heard. For a micro second it didn’t register, then the straining face above him distorted further, followed by a cone of brains and gore spraying above and to his left. Most of the dead weight above followed the spray. Nick struggled to sit, his dilated eyes coursing rapidly. He saw the nurse now standing and petrified with a whitened knuckle to her lips, and a metre or so to his right Amini still leant into his shot, the automatic in a two-handed grip. Nick’s first disjointed thoughts were for the repercussions.

  “Jesus, you should have just whacked the bastard on the head!”

  Farhad didn’t look remorseful. “No time, it was you or him. He was a revolutionary guard anyway. Fuck him.”

  Nick Evan’s senses returned rapidly. “You’re right mate, I’m being stupid. If you hadn’t I’d be toast by now.” He stood and picked up his club. The nurse was still blubbering, but more quietly by then.

  Nick whispered. “You bind her Fred, and I’ll drag Abdul out. He must be wondering what the hell happ
ened. And just in case, we’d better leg it soon.”

  Sinclair took a quick squint at his watch before sliding down to the tarmac again. He grabbed his lead pipe but left the driver’s door half open as he moved to the edge of the road. He’d barely squeezed into a bush, put off by the still wet foliage, when headlights tracked around the corner from the front car park. He pushed further into the vegetation.

  Initially Sinclair wasn’t alarmed that much, guessing it was another batch of students getting back late, but the vehicle stopped in front of the accommodation doors and the driver got out. He was wearing some sort of uniform and the vehicle was a van. Sinclair cursed. It was campus security. The Scot glanced quickly at the fire exit. Thankfully it looked shut.

  Although the concrete still glistened, it had stopped drizzling some time before, so security didn’t hurry. He watched his footing as he strolled to the half-glass doors, gave the handles a jiggle and seemed satisfied. Sinclair surmised that the residents must have their own keys. Unhurriedly, the security guard turned and ambled back to his van, opened the driver’s door, then paused when a muted slap filtered through the waterlogged atmosphere. His look was more curious than alarmed when he stared in Sinclair’s direction. He got into the van and drove closer. Sinclair ignored the wet vegetation and eased around the bush as the van eased to stop again. Sinclair eyed the double door, and from his new position could see a thin sliver of light at its centre joint. He cursed.

  Campus security alighted and looked at the exit uncertainly. He knew the theatre had been requisitioned by the government so maybe it had something to do with that. He dreaded making a mistake, his job was important to him.

  The vehicle was parked near the centre of the road, only a metre from where the Scot crouched, and the guard seemed to be unarmed. With the body of the van between them, Sinclair used its cover to get closer, and by the time the guard took a tentative step towards the doors the Scot was only metres from the man’s back. The headlights still burned, and Sinclair was sure the guard hadn’t radioed in. Sinclair gripped his water-pipe tighter and launched himself towards the guard’s back.

  Maybe the man sensed him in the last micro-second, his head certainly started to turn, but it was too late. The lead pipe was on its way by then, and it bent around his skull with a dull thud. The guard dropped without a moan. Sinclair bent over for several seconds, gasping and trembling, but then realised that the van and the body were exposed. He was still shaking when he bundled the guard into his van and drove it into the car park.

  Amini bound the nurse’s hands and stuck a gag on her mouth and marched her down the corridor while Nick opened the cubicle door. Abdul was sat on the cot with a worried expression. His face flooded with relief.

  “That had me sweating, I didn’t have a clue about what was happening.”

  Nick still looked serious. “A cock-up is what was happening Abdul. The guard was having a pee, not crashed out, and he nearly had me. Farhad was forced to shoot him. We’ll have to wrap this up right away and get out of here.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Nick thought. “We’ll lock the nurses in the drugs room then nip Laleh back with us to say goodbye. You hunt out any files on the locals and we’ll get rid of them later. Make your farewells with Laleh quick mate, and we’ll head on south right after. I’ll keep our embassy up to date from there. A bloke called Gerry Hawkins is my contact, and I suggest he phones on some number here, not your home number. He’s on extension 23 at the embassy. Perhaps you can give him a safe number to call on?”

  “Okay Nick, I’ve got that. When you’re gone I’ll sort out the files.”

  Amini and the lounge nurse were waiting outside the ward when Nick arrived. He held her while Farhad entered. All four locals were dressed by then, three of them looking bewildered. Amini addressed the man in Farsi.

  “Grab anything that could identify any of you. We’ve got your medical files and we’ll destroy them later. Two or three minutes and we’ll be on our way, so be ready to go.” Amini took Laleh by the arm with no hint of recognition.

  “We need to talk to you separately. I want you with me now. We’ll let you go later.”

  The others looked puzzled as Amini led his sister towards the corridor. She played her role straight faced as he cut the tape around the other nurse’s feet. When they trooped into the passageway Amini didn’t introduce Nick. With him in the dish-dasha and a balaclava pulled over his face, she had no idea who or even what he was.

  Amini and Nick hurried back to the lounge. Abdul was rifling through a metal cabinet in the records room when they arrived and came out with four thin blue folders in his hand.

  “This is all there is gentlemen. Get rid of them well away from here.”

  Nick, who was leading, pointed. It was only then that Laleh saw the gruesome, blood spattered corpse behind the settee. Surprisingly there were no histrionics. She gazed for a few seconds but made no comment, although her face was on the sad side. She opened her arms when she was close to Abdul. Nick didn’t understand the Farsi but the farewells were swift. He took charge again.

  “Okay guys, we’d better hit the road. You okay Abdul?”

  “You’d better really clobber me Nick. With the guard dead it’s got to look good. Thank you for what you’ve done for us and our friends, and don’t expect too much from Laleh right now. She’s been severely traumatised and might be quiet for a while.” He looked at Amini when he said that.

  Nick acknowledged. “Okay let’s get on with this.”

  Abdul pointed to the curve of his skull above and behind the right ear. “Hit me there Nick. It’s the strongest part of the skull, with plenty of blood vessels.” He held out a hand to Amini, and Nick struck as he turned. Nick avoided the blood when he went for the carotid pulse and nodded. Amini led off with Laleh hurrying between them. They picked up the other Iranians on their way out.

  Jock Sinclair was standing opposite the fire exit door when one side opened tentatively and Nick peered out. The Scot hurried to the ‘Cherokee’ but was fumbling so much he stuffed up the first start. He breathed deeply, deliberately slowing himself down, and it fired with a roar on the second attempt. Amini had pulled a rear door fully open by then while Nick reached to help Laleh in. She recoiled at his touch, pulling away harshly, and levered herself in with the help of the grab rail. Amini followed her with a sad shake of his head. He indicated the chador on the back seat.

  “Just put the top bit on Laleh. We won’t be stopping again.”

  There was little chat while Sinclair motored the eighteen kilometres west on to Bagh-E-Feyz’, and when they passed Mehrabad International there were no airliners above a normally busy airfield. He turned into Qazum next then down Shahid Raja, and from there they were on the road south to Qom. Jock kept rigidly to the middle lane after that, and when the suburbs were behind them clamped mandibles loosened amongst the men.

  The night turned slowly from a dark grey to a strengthening pale yellow as they motored south. The trip had been incident free and Sinclair was chatting as animatedly as the others when they breasted a small hillock a few kilometres north of Qom. On the other side a black and white was drawn up on the side of the road beyond the small rise.

  It didn’t register until they were quite close, then Sinclair saw who was relieving himself. The last time he’d seen the tosser was in a troop carrier at the airfield.

  Instinctively Jock’s foot stabbed for the brake, but there was nowhere to go and he was on top of the vehicle before the pedal had even started to bite. Just as quickly Nick hissed harshly to keep driving. The men stared rigidly ahead with Sinclair’s heart in his mouth. Laleh glanced sideways then ahead again.

  But it was anti-climax. Arak half turned, but continued what he was doing, although he couldn’t miss the company logo on a rear side panel. There was a local couple in there too, so they had obviously done an embassy run. Arak had been summonsed by Tehran, and that was his priority. He could always use it
to rattle them when he next saw them anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sarah knew what they had gone to do and was at Nick’s house before 6.30. When they hadn’t returned by nine the night before she’d guessed it would be early the next morning. She heard the vehicle arrive so switched on the kettle and bustled out to open the courtyard door. She didn’t have to think about whether they’d want coffee or not.

  The men were emptying the back of the Jeep of boxes and crates, but a chador-clad woman with lowered eyes reared back when the housekeeper opened the door. And it couldn’t be body language, it had to be instinct. Sarah grasped the covered arm, guided the girl into the third bedroom, and drew the heavy portiere.

  Sarah tossed the girl’s colourful beaded bag on the bed then led her to the wardrobe. She showed her the Bakhtaran outfits and some purely girlie things on the dresser, then helped lift the heavy robe over Laleh’s head. It came free in a rush. Sarah could then see that tears washed the dark, soulful eyes, with a wayward trickle meandering down one cheek. Again it was instinctive. Sarah dragged Laleh to her and enfolded her in plump strong arms.

  The women were still busy in the bedroom when Sinclair laced coffee with Jameison’s then collapsed untidily into the furniture. It was a bit early for booze but the tension had been strong and constant, more insidious than any of them would ever admit, and they were dealing with it the way men do. They laughed the day off with funny comments and derogatory observations, more noisily and animated than normal, and Amini led the conversation at times, something he hadn’t done before. His sister was safer though and it made a difference. The adrenaline was still on the high side, but the conversation got less noisy as the implications began to sink in.

  Sarah came out of the bedroom about twenty minutes later and diced vegetables before starting a coffee for the girl. As she finished, Amini climbed to his feet to refill his own mug, then stopped.