In the Lap of the Gods

by Tony Criddle

  But what was important to her was that she had made it happen. She enjoyed being in his arms and when he’d penetrated her she’d welcomed it, had felt no apprehension, had felt no shame. She had wanted it to happen and made sure it did as quickly as she could. Laleh felt content but Nick was only glad that the initial pressure was gone.

  They kissed and nuzzled without conscious thought after, wrapped deeply in their own private world. At first Laleh was only vaguely aware of the delicious tingle of his fingers wandering lightly over her quivering, sensitive skin, but after a while she realised the hand was becoming more insistent, was exploring every inch of her more boldly. And it was instinctive. She turned and kissed him deeply while he felt stronger now and totally in control.

  And there was nothing quick about it this time. Light fingers ran down her soft inner arms, kisses ranged over her full lips, to her eyes, her throat, her neck and inner arms and armpits, and the exquisite drag of his fingernails scraped gently over her hyper-sensitive breasts until she thought her engorged nipples would burst. He continued along her fluttering abdomen, skirted the swollen core and moved gently onto her outer thighs. He took his time before moving to the smooth, more sensitive skin that nestled between her legs. When he retraced all the way back to her breasts and inner arms she wasn’t sure if she was moaning or only thought she was.

  Nick paused for a few delectable seconds then slowly retraced where his hand had gone with his lips, and this time she knew she was groaning. She tried desperately to mount him again, but he anticipated, and pinned her hands lightly above her head. Nick followed his original path, but this time deviated to where all the sensation seemed to be centred, and took an exquisitely long time there too. It was a massive relief when he did slide into her. She exploded in seconds, and he wasn’t all that long after her.

  Something was getting through the REM to the subconscious and Nick woke instantly, his eyes wide open. It was still early. A hesitant daylight struggled half-heartedly with the deeper ebony of night, but it was enough to see Laleh propped on an elbow studying his face intently. He became aware of her other hand. At first it circled his breast gently, twirling and combing the coarse hair on his chest, but then it moved lower. He could feel himself stir again, and she could have had no doubts about it. She kissed him.

  “Can we do it again Nickie?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he croaked. So they did.

  Afterwards Nick wandered out to the bathroom stifling a yawn. Laleh headed for her bedroom.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Nick was first into the kitchen and dug out some elderly muesli for breakfast. It hadn’t reached a use-by date yet but was nudging it. He’d never been partial to sheep or goat’s milk but the Scot had brought back cartons of thick, creamy cow’s milk the day before, so the cereal got resurrected.

  Shortly after Jock dropped in and helped himself to a bowl and when Farhad emerged with wet hair plastered down from his shower, he did too. Laleh made do with fruit. They sat around the table while Sarah attacked the dishes, munching but not talking.

  Although she stayed quiet, Sinclair noticed that Laleh took every opportunity to touch Nick while they ate. A flight was scheduled later, and Sinclair thought she was reminding the Welshman she was there, but the instant Farhad pushed his bowl away she stood. It surprised them. Their breathing remained on hold as she walked to the end of the table. Laleh looked defiant yet apprehensive as she faced them with arms folded.

  It was purely instinctive, the girl hadn’t said anything, but Nick knew exactly what was coming. She shouldn’t do this alone, she deserved his support. He stood and moved behind her with fingers kneading tense, tight shoulders. Both the other males looked puzzled but Laleh ignored Sinclair and looked at her brother intently.

  “I don’t want either of us creeping around in the dark so I’ll tell you all now. I’m moving in with Nick today.” Her gaze stayed level, if slightly apprehensive.

  Sarah carried on with what she was doing without looking around, Laleh’s bed hadn’t needed making up for a couple of days now, so no surprises there for her, but there was for Jock. He’d seen it as inevitable but it was quicker than he expected. It was Farhad who stood and strode towards her, his face bland and hard to read.

  Laleh felt Nick tense through every pore in her skin. His hands were no longer on her shoulders, but firmly on her hips. He was ready to get between them, ready to pull her out of there, but as Farhad got closer he opened his arms and dragged her tight. Everyone had tensed when he moved, now everyone relaxed. He hugged Nick too before whispering in his ear.

  “Don’t get used to it. We Persians don’t do this very often.” He didn’t say anything more as he went for a refill, but then turned theatrically with the plunger still in his hand.

  “So do you two think you can do whatever you’re doing a bit quieter from now on? Some of us need our sleep.”

  Laleh’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. Then she blushed. Nick looked at his feet with a smile on his face. They all heard the amused snort from Sarah.

  And suddenly it was a major anti-climax for all of them. Growing sexual tension, emotional trauma, apprehension and less than covert match-making dissipated almost instantly. There was no longer a need for any of it. Even more doors had been opened recently, and only in the background was the knowledge that they might have to use them eventually. Nothing much had changed in the big picture, but the realisation that they had all been hyped only came when they weren’t any more. The pot had gone off the boil.

  Mohammed Arak skipped up the wide flag-steps to Qom’s central police station, and headed for the office of the chief. Tehran thought that America’s intransigence would end after the embassy takeover, but it hadn’t. Arak had been told to turn up the heat, but not how, only to be careful about doing it. What the hell did that mean? He suspected it was government speak for ‘it’s your arse in a sling, not ours.’ He’d thought long and hard before heading for the main cop shop.

  Arak was ushered into the Captain’s office as soon as he arrived, and knew he had to be careful. There wasn’t much love lost between his organisation and the civil police force, who saw his team as illiterate thugs. The only saving grace for Arak was that he’d been a detective in the police once himself. The Captain eyed Arak coolly.

  “How can I help you Mister Arak.” He knew they’d be looking for a favour.

  “The Americans still haven’t responded to the hostage situation Captain, and Iran’s assets are still frozen. Tehran has told me to harass American companies. I want some assistance.”

  “If they operate within the law there’s little I can do Mister Arak. We can check their driving licences, and give them a hard time if they carry alcohol obviously in public, but I’m sure they’ll know what is legal and what isn’t.”

  “Isn’t there anything else you can do.”

  “Not legally Mister Arak. The illegal we leave to you.”

  Arak caught his pointed stare. “I intend shaking down their houses in Shahabad soon, can you help with that?”

  “I have a sergeant and three policemen in the town who are all Bakhtaran themselves. They get few problems with the residents, but I doubt I’d go in there with a small force if they did play up. I can get my police to back you but only if you have a good reason for going in. When do you intend to do it?”

  “We had a report that they are almost locals out there, and seem to mix freely with others who do not live there normally. We don’t know what that means, and we’ll be going in mid-morning on Thursday to find out.”

  “I wish you luck Mister Arak but so what? They’ve just had their New Year celebrations and hundreds of outsiders come into town for that. If you find anything let me know, but I can’t do anything if you don’t.

  Arak mumbled his goodbyes and departed.

  Qom hadn’t bothered them since before the Christmas break and appearances had to be kept up, so Nick drew up a simple agenda. Another report would have
to be filed soon but his interest now was in progressing Laleh’s skills. Certainly it was good to have her close, but something else scratched at the cortex. It helped that she was a natural as well, but the way the situation was stretching out bothered him too. On that Wednesday he got her airborne in the morning and chanced another flight in the early afternoon, pushing her on even further. She continued to excel, and they were in high spirits when they got home. Sarah quickly destroyed that.

  “Nephew of Mohammed call in home. He policeman in town. Religious people raid here tomorrow morning.” Nick felt as if he’d been gut shot.

  “Jesus, I thought we were safe in here. What the hell do they know?”

  “He say nothing. They just make it more difficult for Americans. We make it difficult for them instead. I talk to other elders and see what we can do.” Nick nodded but they all looked concerned.

  The black and white pulled around the traffic island and started up the slope into Shahabad with Arak driving and a team of two in there with him. The trip out had been easy, but after he turned off to the town two utes were stopped alongside each other on the brow of the hill ahead. The occupants chatted animatedly. He hooted, but they didn’t budge, and he was almost at the apex of the incline by then and was forced to stop. He was fuming when he strode the last of the slope to accost them, but up there he could hear a rumbling hub-bub beyond the brow.

  It looked as if the whole town, and all its vehicles, were drawn up on the only decent route in. He roared and gesticulated to no effect and even when he strode down to the seething mass they ignored him. Arak was impotent, humiliated, and then he made a bigger mistake. He drew his pistol and fired into the air.

  He got all the attention he wanted after that, but it was angry and belligerent. A number of firearms were discharged into the air as if in answer, and Arak stepped back involuntarily as the crowd surged towards him. He was saved only by a police sergeant fighting his way through the angry crowd.

  “It’s illegal to discharge a weapon in a public place,” he hissed.

  “You know who I am. Get these people moved or I’ll drive right through them.”

  The policeman wasn’t a bit intimidated. “I know who you are, and I know what you want Mister Arak, but I wouldn’t fire your weapon again if I were you. There are enough guns in here to take on half the bloody army. I wouldn’t try to drive through them either, I doubt you’d be alive after fifty metres. Go back to Qom and forget about this town. I’ll get the information you want myself.”

  Arak was devastated but it was a fait accompli. He climbed back in his vehicle, backed down the incline, and took off for Qom.

  Sarah had lodged Farhad and Laleh in her own house and Nick and Jock had stayed at home, but it was over well before mid-morning. A smiling Sarah gave them the details when she returned with the Aminis, predicting there would be no more trouble in Shahabad. Nick agreed, but the escalating circumstances pushed him towards some deeper thinking. They all sat around the table while Sarah made sandwiches.

  “Okay guys, the way I see it, we use this to our advantage. I’ll nip in with a report on Monday and tell them we were sorry they couldn’t get out here. I’ll offer up any info they want myself. Most of it will be bullshit, but they won’t know that. Anything else you can think of?”

  Jock spoke up first. “We’d better keep to the Cherokee with the window tint for trips to Qom laddie, and Farhad only goes in if it’s vital. Laleh would be okay in her chador but I don’t think we should push that too much either.”

  Sarah listened then called in from the kitchen. “Just you and me next for Qom Nickie. You do report. I do shopping, Laleh stay here in case you followed again.”

  “That’s good, what about you Laleh?”

  “As long as I get some flying in I’m happy to keep out of Qom altogether.”

  “And you Fred?”

  “I’m quite interested in what Baraz is up to with the stock, Nick. I can fill my days helping him. I’m sure it will ease off before long.”

  “Okay guys, it’s a done deal. Make it so.”

  Only Nick and Sarah went to Qom on that Monday. He dropped his housekeeper at the markets and drove up to the golden mosque office. Arak seemed surprised to see him when he barged in. Nick’s expression was innocent bordering on bland.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see us on Thursday Mister Arak. My housekeeper said there was some sort of demonstration, but I couldn’t tell what it was about.”

  Mohammed Arak was caught completely flat footed. He blustered.

  “It was nothing important Mister Evans, just a social call really.” He thought quickly. “Iran is known for its hospitality. I hoped you were making new friends, that’s all.”

  “Not really, Mister Arak. Our housekeeper had a lot of her friends and family in town for the holidays and it was nice to meet them, but none of us speak Farsi so it was hard going.”

  Arak’s eyes slitted, but he could think of nothing to say. Nick was motoring south before he thought to have him followed.

  Nick wasn’t concerned with surveys any more. The company no longer got the reports from exploration flights, and teaching Laleh to fly was something he wanted to do. He took her through more hovering, landing and take-offs, and half way through the second trip headed for the foothills. Nick took over in the river valley and ignored the tacit looks of longing she threw his way.

  He knew that Fred was helping Baraz to muster the last of the stock in the higher pastures, and they were already up there with the old white ute. They weren’t expecting the chopper. Nick landed near the shack, climbed down re-fastened the empty seat-belt tightly. He grasped his mike-tell lead.

  “Okay Lily. I need to talk to Baraz. Two left hand circuits and approaches while I do it, then pick me up again.” He unplugged and ambled casually to where the men waited. Laleh looked shocked at first, then gritted her teeth and picked up into a hover. He watched without seeming to.

  Nick had been there and done that on a number of occasions. He knew that the two big landmarks in a pilot’s life were his first solo and the first time he entered a spin on a solo aerobatics sortie in a fixed wing. If Laleh was to progress any further she had to know he trusted her to go solo, and had let both Jock and her brother know that. Her proficiency was growing daily and they understood the effect on her self-confidence of a solo too.

  Laleh touched down once, then circuited again before picking him up, and by then the determination had changed to ecstasy. As a treat, he got her to fly up to where they had initially picnicked, and when they stepped out to stretch their legs she deliberately seduced him. It was cold, so it was quick, but they giggled a lot on their return to the airfield. Nick preferred their bed and now realised he’d need other ways to distract her.

  Nick thought about it over a coffee when they got home. “Do you want to learn to shoot Lil?”

  Her eyes glistened. “I didn’t ask because Jock and Farhad went when you took the rifle, but I was in the uni shooting team. I’m not too bad.”

  Nick didn’t even look doubtful. Her talents seemed endless, her interests universal, although he no longer felt threatened by them.

  “Now why am I not surprised at that?”

  Laleh grinned. “Sarah keeps stopping me, but I’m a pretty good cook as well. Not all that home grown stuff either, I got a bit exotic at Cambridge. There were lots of international influences there.”

  “Okay then. Jock can clue you in when he’s here for dinner next.”

  That happened a couple of days later. After they’d eaten Nick collected the rifle and a box of ammunition from his wardrobe..

  Jock’s the main shooter Laleh, so he’ll do this bit. Listen up though, – ’cause it’s important.”

  Sinclair nodded. “Okay Lily, what did you shoot in uni?”

  Laleh thought. “Small calibre pistols at ten metres, and .22 rifles at fifty metres.”

  Sinclair nodded again. He removed a .222 round from the carton and passed it to her. �
�Tell me about that lassie.”

  She turned it in her hand. “Well, the bullet is only slightly broader than those I used to fire, but it’s over twice as long, and the charge is a lot bigger. It has to be more powerful.”

  Jock nodded and passed her the rifle next. In seconds she’d worked the bolt, identified the safety and sighted along the scope before easing the bolt spring. Sinclair looked at Nick with a small nod of approval. She handed the rifle and ammunition back.

  “That’s right Lily. The slug is a bit wider than the .22s you shot, but the round is a lot longer, and a small bullet with a large charge makes for a high velocity projectile with a flat trajectory. It’s an extremely accurate hunter’s weapon, meant for medium game over long range. The small bullet hole doesn’t cause much damage to the skins. You okay with that?” Laleh nodded.

  “Okay then. A Tikka is Finnish made and high performance, so it’s quite expensive and highly lethal. It operates the same as most rifles as you obviously realised, but I’ll take you through stripping and cleaning it after we’ve fired it.” He unconsciously sighted it himself.

  “At first I’ll pick some targets at about 200 metres for you, and when you’re happy we’ll switch to game. But remember, you don’t cock the rifle until it’s aimed out the helicopter window, and you never point it at one of us. Any questions?”

  Laleh’s eyes shone. “No Jock, that’s pretty clear. When can we shoot it?”

  It was Nick’s turn to smile. “Jock will come with us on the next couple of flights and we’ll find something up there to shoot at. I hope you can live with that.” There was a hint of sarcasm in his grin.

  Sinclair went along on their next few sorties and chose what Laleh would fire at. It was usually a distinctive mark on a rock formation, and before long she could produce a tight group at 200 metres. Consistently.

  Almost invariably now she flew them back after they’d been shooting, and knew exactly how to get there. From then on Nick left the air taxi and landing to her as well. At first the machine wobbled and the skids danced a little as she touched down, but before long it didn’t happen at all. On the day she grouped four shots within a centimetre then landed from a fairly harsh flare, they were all pumped.