"now!" hashemi said into his walkie-talkie. at once the enemy side of the square was bathed in light from searchlights mounted on camouflaged trucks. men were fleeing out of other doors but police and green bands opened up and the battle began. "come on, robert," hashemi said and led a careful rush closer.
informers had whispered that tonight there would be a high-level meeting of islamic-marxist leaders here and that this building was connected to others on either side by a rabbit warren of secret doors and passages. with hakim khan's assistance hashemi had precipitated this first of a series of raids to deactivate extensive leftist opposition to the government, to seize the leaders and make a public example of them for his own purposes.
the first group of green bands had cleared the ground floor and were charging up the stairs, careless of their safety. the defenders, now that they were over their surprise, fought back with equal ferocity, well armed and well trained.
outside in the square there was a lull, no more defenders wishing to run the gauntlet or to join those pinned down helplessly among the cars some already on fire. the alley behind the building was ominously quiet, police and green
bands blocking both ends, well entrenched behind their vehicles. "why do we wait here like stinking, cowardly iraqis," one of the green bands said truculently. "why don't we carry the battle to them?"
"you wait because that's what the colonel ordered," the sergeant of police said, "you wait because we can kill all the dogs safely and th "
"i'm not subject to any dog colonel, only to god! god is greattttttttt!" with that the youth cocked his rifle and rushed out of ambush toward the back door of the target building. others followed him. the sergeant cursed them and ordered them back but his words were buried by the fusillade that came down on the youths from small windows high in the walls and slaughtered them.
hashemi and others had heard the firing in the alley and presumed that a breakout had been attempted. "the dogs can't escape that way, robert," hashemi shouted gleefully, "they're trapped!" from where he was he could see that the attack on the main tenement was held up. he clicked on the sender: "second wave into the hq building." immediately a mullah and another bunch of youths shrieked their battle cry and rushed across the square robert armstrong appalled that hashemi would order them out like that, floodlit, such easy targets. "don't interfere, robert! by god, i'm tired of you interfering," hashemi had said coldly when he had made some suggestions on how to contain the raid before the attack had started. "keep your advice to yourself, this is internal, nothing to do with you!"
"but, hashemi, not all the buildings are hostile or marxist, there're bound to be families, perhaps hundreds of innocen "
"keep quiet or, by god, i'll consider it treason!"
"then i'll stay behind. i'll go back and watch the palace."
"i've said you'll come on the raid! you think you british're the only ones who can handle a few revolutionaries? you'll stay beside me where i can see you but first give me your gun!"
"but, hashem "
"your gun! by the prophet, i don't trust you anymore. your gun!"
so he had given it to him and then hashemi had come out of his rage and had seemed to relax and laughed the encounter off. but he had not returned the gun and armstrong felt naked in the night, afraid that somehow he had been betrayed. he glanced at him, saw again that strangeness in fazir's eyes and the way his mouth was working, a little saliva at the corners.
a burst of heavy firing pulled his attention back to the tenement. the automatic fire was coming from the upper windows against the new attack. many youths were cut down but some got inside, the mullah among them, to reinforce those fighters still alive. together they pulled away the bodies blocking the stairs, and fought their way up onto the next floor.
in the square hashemi was now ducked down behind a car, consumed with
excitement and his sense of power. "more men into the hq building!"
never before had he been in control of a battle or even part of one. all his previous work had been secret, undercover, just a few men involved on each operation even with his group four assassins all he had ever done was to give orders in safety and wait in safety, far from the action. except the once that he had personally detonated the car bomb that had obliterated his savama enemy, general janan. by god and the prophet, his mind was shouting, this is what i was born for: battle and war!
"general assault!" he shouted into the walkie-talkie and then stood up and bellowed as loud as he could, "general assault!"
men charged out of the night. grenades over walls into patios and into windows indiscriminately. explosions and billowing smoke, more firing, rifle and automatic and more explosions and then a giant explosion in the leftist headquarters as an ammunition and gasoline cache detonated, blowing off the top story and most of the facade. the wave of heat tore at hashemi's clothes, knocked armstrong down, and mzytryk who had been watching through binoculars from the safety of an upstairs window on the other side of the square saw them clearly in the floodlight and decided the time was perfect.
"now!" he said in russian.
the sharpshooter beside him was already centered on the target through his telescopic sight, the rifle barrel resting on the window ledge. at once he flattened his index finger above the trigger guard, felt mzytryk's finger on the trigger, and began the countdown as ordered: "three... two... one... fire!" mzytryk squeezed the trigger. both men saw the dumdum bullet go into hashemi's lower back, slam him spread- eagled against the car in front, then sprawling into the dirt.
"good," mzytryk muttered grimly, regretting only that his own eyes and hands were not good enough to deal with his son's murderers by himself.
"three... two... one..." the gunsight wavered. both of them cursed, for they had seen armstrong whirl around, look in their direction for an instant, then hurl himself through a gap in the cars and disappear behind one of them.
"he's near the front wheel. he can't escape. be patient fire when you can!" mzytryk hurried out of the room to the stairwell and shouted in turkish to the men waiting below, "go!" then rushed back again. as he came through the doorway, he saw the sharpshooter fire. "got him," the man said with an obscenity. mzytryk trained his binoculars but could not see armstrong. "where is he?"
"behind the black car he stuck his head around the front wheel for a second and i got him."
"did you kill him?"
"no, comrade general. i was very careful, just as you ordered."
"you're sure?"
"yes, comrade general, i got him in the shoulder, perhaps the chest."
the headquarters building burning furiously now, firing from the adjoining tenements sporadic, just pockets of resistance, attackers heavily outnumbering defenders, all of them whipped into a frenzy of brutality. barbarians, mzytryk thought contemptuously, then looked back at the sprawled body of hashemi twitching and jerking and twitching again, half in and half out of the joub. don't die too quickly, matyeryebyets. "can you see him, the englishman?"
"no, comrade general, but i've both sides covered."
then mzytryk saw the broken-down ambulance arriving and men with red cross armbands fan out with stretchers to begin picking up the wounded, the battle mostly over now. i'm glad i came tonight, he thought, his rage not yet assuaged. he had decided to direct the retaliation personally the moment haki n khan's message had arrived yesterday. the barely disguised "summons" together with pahmudi's secret report of the manner of his son's death at the hands of hashemi and armstrong had sent him into a paroxysm of rage.
simple to arrange a helicopter and set down just outside tabriz last night, simple to arrange a counterattack to ambush the two murderers. simple to plan his vengeance that would cement relations with pahmudi by removing his enemy hashemi fazir for him and at the same time save both his mujhadin and tudeh much future trouble. and armstrong, the elusive mi6 agent, another longoverdue elimination curse that fornicator for appearing like a ghost after all these years.
"comrade general!"
"yes, i see them." mzytryk watched the red cross men put hashemi on a stretcher and carry him off toward the ambulance. others went behind the car. the crossed lines of the telescopic sight followed them. mzytryk's excitement soared. the sharpshooter waited patiently. when the men reappeared, they were half carrying, half dragging armstrong between them. "i knew i'd hit the bastard," the sharpshooter said.
at the palace: 11:04 p.m. silently the phosphorescent, red night-flying lights of the massed instrument panel came to life. erikki's finger pressed engine start. the jets caught, coughed, caught, hesitated as he eased the circuit breakers carefully in and out. then he shoved them home. the engines began a true warm-up.
floodlights at half power were on in the forecourt. azadeh and hakim khan, heavy-coated against the night cold, stood just clear of the turning blades, watching him. at the front gate a hundred yards or so away two guards and hashemi's two police also watched but idly. their cigarettes glowed. the two
policemen shouldered their kalashnikovs and strolled nearer.
once more the engines spluttered and hakim khan called out over the noise, "erikki, forget it for tonight!" but erikki did not hear him. hakim moved away from the noise, nearer to the gate, azadeh following him reluctantly. his walk was ponderous and awkward, and he cursed, unused to his crutches.
"greetings, highness," the policemen said politely.
"greetings. azadeh," hakim said irritably, "your husband's got no patience, he's losing his senses. what's the matter with him? it's ridiculous to keep trying the engines. what good would it do even if he could start them?"
"i don't know, highness." azadeh's face was white in the pale light and she was very uneasy. "he's... since the raid he's been very strange, very difficult, difficult to understand he frightens me."
"i don't wonder! he's enough to frighten the devil."
"please excuse me, highness," azadeh said apologetically, "but in normal times he's... he's not frightening."
politely the two policemen turned away, but hakim stopped them. "have you noticed any difference in the pilot?"
"he's very angry, highness. he's been angry for hours. once i saw him kick the machine but different or not is difficult to say. i've never been near to him before." the corporal was in his forties and wanted no trouble. the other man was younger and even more afraid. their orders were to watch and wait until the pilot left by car, or any car left, not to hinder its leaving but to report to hq at once by their car radio. both of them realized the danger of their position the arm of the gorgon khan had a very long reach. both knew of the servants and guards of the late khan accused by him of treason, still rotting in police dungeons. but both also knew the reach of inner intelligence was more certain.
"tell him to stop it, azadeh, to stop the engines."
"he's never before been so... so angry with me, and tonight..." her eyes almost crossed in her rage. "i don't think i can obey him."
"you will!"
after a pause she muttered, "when he's even a little angry, i can do nothing with him."
the policemen saw her paleness and were sorry for her but more sorry for themselves they had heard what had happened on the mountainside. god protect us from he of the knife! what must it be like to marry such a barbarian who everyone knows drank the blood of the tribesmen he slaughtered, worships forest spirits against the law of god, and rolls naked in the snow, forcing her to do the same.
the engines spluttered and began to die and they saw erikki bellow with
rage and smash his great fist on the side of the cockpit, denting the aluminum with the force of his blow.
"highness, with your permission i will go to bed i think i will take a sleeping pill and hope that tomorrow is a better..." her words trailed off.
"yes. a sleeping pill is a good idea. very good. i'm afraid i'll have to take two, my back hurts terribly and now i can't sleep without them." hakim added angrily, "it's his fault! if it wasn't for him i wouldn't be in pain." he turned to his bodyguard. "fetch my guards on the gate, i want to give them instructions. come along, azadeh."
painfully he walked off, azadeh obediently and sullenly at his side. the engines started shrieking again. irritably hakim khan turned and snapped at the policemen, "if he doesn't stop in five minutes, order him to stop in my name! five minutes, by god!"
uneasily the two men watched them leave, the bodyguard with the two gate guards hurrying after them up the steps. "if her highness can't deal with him, what can we do?" the older policeman said.
"with the help of god the engines will continue until the barbarian is satisfied, or he stops them himself."
the lights in the forecourt went out. after six minutes the engines were still starting and stopping. "we'd better obey." the young policeman was very nervous. "the khan said five. we're late."
