Free Whirlwind by James Clavell Page B

they didn't need. by the time she arrived he had found an ideal apartment near the mccloud heliport that she promptly declined: "for goodness' sake, duncan, it's a million miles away from the nearest school. an apartment in aberdeen? now that you're as rich as dunross, we, my lad, we are renting a house..."
     
     
he smiled to himself, thinking about those early days, genny loving being back in scotland she had never really liked hong kong, life so difficult there with little money and children to care for he loving his work, gavallan a great man to work for and with, but hating the north sea, all the cold and the wet and the aches that the salt-heavy air brought. but the five-odd years there had been worth it, renewing and increasing his old contacts in the still tiny international helicopter world most of the pilots ex-raf, -rcaf, -raaf, -usaf, and all the allied services against the day they could expand. always a generous bonus at christmas, carefully put away for retirement, and always the case of loch vay: "andy, that was the one condition that really got me!" gavallan always the driving force, living up to his motto for the company, be bold. in east scotland nowadays, gavallan was known as "the laird," from aberdeen to inverness and south as far as dundee, with tentacles reaching to london, new york, houston wherever there was oil power. yes, old chinaboy's great and he can also wrap you and most men around his little finger, mciver thought without rancor. look how you got here...
     
     
"listen, mac," andrew gallavan had said one day in the late sixties, "i've just met a top general in the iranian general staff at a shoot. general beni
     
     
hassan. great shot, he got twenty brace to my fifteen! over the weekend i spent a lot of time with him and sold him on close-support helicopters for infantry and tank regiments along with a whole program for training their army and air force as well as helicopters for their oil business. we, laddie, are in like flynn."
     
     
"but we're not equipped to do half of that."
     
     
"beni-hassan's a smashing fellow and the shah's a really go-ahead monarch with great plans for modernisation. you know anything about iran?"
     
     
"no, chinaboy," mclver had said, suspiciously, recognising the twinkling exuberance. "why?"
     
     
"you're booked on friday for bahrain, you and genny... now wait a moment, mac! what do you know about sheik aviation?"
     
     
"genny's happy in aberdeen, she doesn't want to move, the kids are finishing school, we've just put the down payment on a house, we're not moving and genny'll kill you."
     
     
"of course," gavallan said airily. "sheik aviation?"
     
     
"it's a small but good helicopter company that services the gulf. they've three 206s and a few fixed-wing feeder planes, based in bahrain. well thought of and they do a lot of work for aramco, extex, and i think iranoil. owned and operated by jock forsyth, ex-paras and pilot who formed the company in the fifties with an old chum of mine, scrag scragger, an aussie. scrag's the real owner, ex-raaf, afc and bar, dfc and bar, now a chopper fanatic. first they were based in singapore where i first met scrag. we, er, we were on a bender and i don't remember who started it but the others said it was a draw. then they moved to the gulf with an ex-extex executive who happened to have a great contract to launch them there. why?"
     
     
"i've just bought them. you take over as managing director on monday. scragger and all their pilots and personnel will stay on or not, as you suggest, but i think we'll need their knowledge i found them all good fellows forsyth's happy to retire to devon. curious, scragger didn't mention he knew you, but then i only spent a few moments with him and dealt with forsyth. from now on we're s-g helicopters ltd. next friday i want you to go to tehran... iisten, for christ's sake... on friday to set up an hq there. i've made a date for you to meet beni-hassan and sign the papers for