The Foreign Service Journal, January-February 2021

THE FOREIGN SERVICE JOURNAL | JANUARY-FEBRUARY 2021 49 been railing against the release agreement and are accusing us of surrendering to the ‘Great Satan.’ They’re calling us traitors.” She had never seen the masterful Beheshti so worried. He told her, “Tomorrow night you will be at the airport. Be there by seven. I will have a car with a phone for you and a pass for the special secured area. I don’t want to showmyself for obvious reasons, but I will if I have to.” With a smile, he added, “I have heard you are a master of defusing airport confronta- tions. Tell me what is happen- ing, and if you see anything going wrong, call me immedi- ately. I won’t be far away. “One more thing. You can talk to a student named Asgharzadeh. He’s one of the few sensible ones. With him you can use my name.” Not wanting to mention anyone by name, she asked, “What about the airport komiteh people? Will they be there?” “They should not be. This operation is far above them, and they’ll just make things more complicated. You already know the komiteh chief Sarhaddi. If he or any of his men show up, tell them to get lost. If they give you trouble, call me.” Beheshti’s meeting with the Algerians was brief. They repeated their concern that nothing interfere with a smooth hostage release, and he assured them he had taken all possible measures. He told them the Iranian Air Force would escort the Algerian planes as far as the Turkish frontier. The next day Nilufar stayed in the office until after sunset. About six p.m. she got into Beheshti’s car and found an armed security guard—a young man about 5’ 8” and powerfully built— in the front seat. They traveled west along Enqelaab Avenue toward Mehrabad Airport. Because of curfews, blackouts, gasoline shortages and Iraqi air raids, the normally choked streets were almost deserted. Her driver took her through a series of checkpoints to the VIP area. He stopped about 50 yards from the VIP lounge and about 100 yards fromwhere three Air Algérie 727s stood ready, rear steps down and engines running. Armed Algerian security men formed cordons around the aircraft. Outside it was about 15°F, and a bitter wind blew from the mountains to the north. She sat in the car and called the number Beheshti had given her, telling him that everything seemed normal, and that there were dozens of shivering journalists on the tarmac. She left the car and stood in the cold. As she waited, she recognized komiteh chief Sarhaddi walking toward her from the main terminal. Even in the darkness there was no mistaking his slouch and his self-importance. With no effort to be polite, he said, “Ms. Massoumeh, what a surprise. What are you doing here? I thought you had left us for more important work. Can I see your airport pass?” Nilufar made a head motion to her bodyguard and said, “Please escort the gentle- man out of this area. He has no business here.” The guard took Sarhaddi’s arm and none too gently led him away in full view of the national and inter- national press. “You heard the honorable lady. She is here on Dr. Beheshti’s orders, and you are not. Gur-e-to gom kon , mardikeh bi-sho’ur! (Get yourself out of here, you little fool!)” About 15 minutes later, a group walked from the lounge and boarded one of the planes. She recognized the Algerian mediators, Algerian Ambassador Abdelkarim Ghraieb, Swiss Ambassador Erik Lang and his deputy Flavio Maroni. At about 7:20 three buses arrived and stopped between her and the planes. About 75 student hostage-takers left the buses and milled around, attempting to look fierce with their weapons and revolutionary outfits. Most of the journalists ignored the students, knowing they would soon be yesterday’s news. Two of the students—one a few years older than the others, and the other a heavily veiled woman a few years younger than Nilufar—walked to where Nilufar was waiting. “I’m Asgharzadeh. This is Ms. Ebtekar. You must be Massoumeh. His Excellency Dr. Beheshti told us you would be here.” Nilufar answered, “Yes. He needs to be sure there are no dif- ficulties here tonight. Are you confident there won’t be?” The woman answered with irritation, “We’ve taken care of everything. You really didn’t need to come. You can go home. If you speak to Dr. Beheshti, tell him that he needn’t worry.” The Secretary continued, “And what about Ms. Hartman? She’s a very brave young woman, and very few people will ever know what she did and at what risk. Should we bring her home?”