Free Beyond the Call by Lee Trimble

Iranians would regard an American officer in this way was a mystery to him. He wasn’t aware that he was treading on occupied territory. Iran, after centuries of resisting colonization by the Britishand Russian empires, had finally succumbed in 1941 to a joint military invasion by the forces of both those countries. The purpose was dual: first, to secure Iranian oil fields from capture by the Germans (who at the time were driving irresistibly into Soviet territory); and second, to establish a transit route – the Persian Corridor – through which Allied supplies could be ferried into the Soviet Union. The old ruler, Reza Shah, who had resisted Western demands before the invasion, was deposed, and his son, Mohammed Reza Pahlavi, was given the throne. The Persian Corridor had become a busy route, buzzing with military and diplomatic traffic. 13 The café-dwellers of Tehran saw the foreign uniforms on their streets and were not pleased by the sight.
    A more hospitable atmosphere was to be found in the American diplomatic compound. But even that wasn’t free from strange experiences. Weird encounters in embassy buildings were starting to become a feature of Robert’s life. It occurred on the Friday evening after his arrival, when he was dining alone in the sumptuous restaurant. The lieutenant in charge of the restaurant approached his table.
    â€˜Excuse me, Captain,’ he murmured. ‘The shah is dining here tonight, and would like to meet you.’
    â€˜The who?’ said Robert, not sure he’d heard right.
    â€˜The shah, sir. The Shah of Iran … the king …?’ Seeing the light of understanding dawn on Robert’s face, the lieutenant explained: ‘The shah and the queen are dining at that table over there, and wish to be introduced to you.’
    Robert, dazed, stood up and followed the lieutenant across to a table where a smart-looking couple were seated. They were very young – no older than Robert himself. The man was handsome, with a long fleshy nose, slick black hair, and small, bright eyes – his sharp suit and penetrating gaze gave him the appearance of a Sicilian gangster. The woman was dressed and made up like a movie star. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman Robert had ever met – the kind who could stun a fellow dumb just by looking him in the eye. These two exquisite fashion plates were the first couple of Iran – the shah and his consort, Queen Fawzia.
    It was the shah’s habit to dine here on Fridays (the Islamic day of rest), as part of his efforts to maintain cordial relations with the Western Allies. Or so Robert was told. What he was not told was why the shah would take an interest in him, a lowly American captain. Only later did he realize that it might have had something to do with the diplomatic status that had been conferred on him. It was also possible that the shah, who was meticulous in gathering information about everything that passed in his nation’s diplomatic circles, 14 had picked up whispers about Captain Robert M. Trimble; that he was passing through on some mysterious purpose that was of interest to the highest and most powerful US authorities. (If so, he knew more than Robert himself did at this point.)
    The introductions done, the shah, charmingly genial, shook hands and waved Robert to a seat. What followed was the most extraordinary interrogation. From the start, it was obvious that there was a coldness between the shah and his consort, and Robert found himself caught between them, fielding two completely different lines of questioning. The shah had recently been taking flying lessons and was fascinated by pilots; 15 he wanted to know about aircraft, and about Captain Trimble’s experiences in combat (he’d clearly been briefed; he seemed to know rather a lot about Robert’s record).
    â€˜Were you ever in danger?’ he asked. ‘Did you lose men up there? What kind of planes did you