The Knight's Tale - 10. Chapter 10

With one swift motion, Henry roughly rolled Bijan onto his side and shoved him toward the bow of the ship where the fishermen were cowering. The Iranian captain couldn't see this because the gunwales of the Al-Masjid shaded the deck in darkness.

Startled, Bijan groaned as he was pushed away, but he realized what Henry was doing.

“No! If they take you, they take me, too.”

“Fuck that. You have to escape. I can bloody well fend for myself. Just get your arse over there with the crew and stay the hell down. They’ve already concluded you are nobody important.”

Henry rose to his feet, raising his hands in the air. The piercing laser light focused on him. Captain Mousa shook his head in dismay and turned the fishing boat about, heading toward the Boghammar.

When the two ships were alongside each other, four armed seamen jumped aboard and roughly handcuffed him. They hauled him onto the naval vessel and dragged him below deck, where he was shackled to a steel bulkhead.

Lieutenant Entezami sent six more of his men to take command of the Al-Masjid and follow the Boghammar back to port.

With a slight nod of his head, Captain Mousa signaled to Bijan to huddle with the fishermen, who were being guarded by two heavily armed sailors.

Two hours later, the IRIN Ashura, followed closely by the Al-Masjid, entered the sheltered breakwater of Bandar-e Anzali, Iran’s tiny Caspian Sea naval station.

Winnie had explained to Henry that the Iranian Republic of Islam Navy, or IRIN, was based primarily in the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Oman, those being the most heavily-trafficked waterways and essential routes for the shipping of Iranian oil.

By contrast, the entire Northern fleet on the land-locked Caspian Sea (often described as the largest lake in the world) consisted of a half dozen patrol boats and one rusty old mine sweeper.

As the Boghammar docked, Henry was roughly pulled up from the hold, dragged onto the pier, and marched to the base commander’s HQ. There, they locked him in a basement brig and left.

When the door to the brig slammed shut, Henry carefully retrieved a tiny package from the hem of his shirt.

About an hour later, two Iranian officers appeared. A sailor unlocked the cell door and roughly hauled the prisoner to his feet.

Navban Entezami said something to Henry in Farsi, but he shook his head.

“English.”

The two officers conferred for a moment, and the older one spoke. “I am Senior Lieutenant Hassam El-Alija. I speak the English. What is your name and what you doing on the fishing ship?”

Henry took a deep breath. Here we go. The battle of wits begins, and this poor bastard is at a real disadvantage.

“My name is Harry Peters. I stowed away on board in hope of convincing the captain to take me to Baku in Azerbaijan. I need to meet someone there.”

“Why were you in Iran?”

A wave of dizziness came over Henry. He shook his head and tried to focus.

“Believe me... I, er, didn’t want to be... I was in Baghdad and I needed to go to Baku, and the only opportunity I... had... was through Iran.” His words were beginning to slur.

“Why were you on a boat? There is a land route.”

“I, er, was looking for the fastest way... through your country. The land route over the mountains... takes several more days.” Henry was having difficulty focusing or staying upright.

“And what kind of business brings you to Iraq, Iran, and Azerbaijan?”

He coughed and shook his head as if caught doing something naughty. “I trade in... items... that are difficult to obtain, especially in Iran.”

El-Alija was scornful, “So you buy cheap in other countries and sell for large profit in the Islamic Republic?”

Henry coughed again, so violently that it bent him over.

He straightened and faced his accuser, struggling to breathe. “Well, there is always a... supply and a demand... and those demanding the supplies are eager to... to pay a fair price for them.”

“Fair?”

“If they are...” He shuddered. “...willing and able to pay it, then it seems only... fair.”

He bent forward in pain and looked up into the face of the senior officer. “I... don’t feel well. I need to sit down.”

“You will sit when I give you permission.”

“But I...” Henry passed out and hit the floor.

The two officers were stunned. Both rushed in, picked Henry up and dropped him onto the cot in his cell. They quickly stepped back, and the sailor locked the door behind them. He heard them leave in a hurry, worriedly speaking in rapid Farsi.

Henry opened his eyes a short time later. It was hard to focus. He felt feverish and was shivering and perspiring at the same time. He made out the face of a wizened, bearded man, leaning over him.

The man said something in Farsi, and Henry turned his head an inch, feeling a stab of icy pain. A few steps behind the man, he could see Senior Lieutenant El-Alija and Lieutenant Entezami peering through the bars with worried expressions.

The bearded man turned his head and spoke rapidly to El-Alija, who grimaced and spoke to Henry. “This doctor demands to know where you have been.” He pronounced it dosh-TOOR.

“I told you. I came here from Iraq.”

The officer translated, and the physician snorted and answered with a few words.

“He says you are lying. Where did you really come from?”

Looking confused, Henry protested, “I told you.”

The old man rose, stepped back and gathered his medical case. He passed through the open door and loudly complained to the officer.

“He says unless you tell him the truth, he won’t help you, and you can die, for all he cares. He despises infidels and doesn’t want to waste his skills on a liar.”

“What’s wrong with me? Am I ill?”

In a heavily-accented voice, the physician spoke in English. “You have... a virus that is killing many people... but not in Iraq. If you won’t tell me where you were, I can’t help you, and you will die in a few days.”

“A virus? What? How?”

“It has spread from the western Afghan mountains into Turkmenistan. If that is where you were, I can perhaps treat it. If not, then...” He smiled cruelly. “Then your lies will kill you.”

Henry was silent, considering what to say next.

His body was wracked with pain and he coughed almost constantly. The fever was clouding his thinking, so he decided the safest course of action was to tell the doctor what he wanted to know.

“All right. I was not in Iraq...” He coughed. “I was in Mazar-e Sharif in Afghanistan. I left there two days ago and crossed into Turkmenistan.” Another cough. “I stayed overnight in Ekerem, hoping to find a ship that would take me to Baku.”

He paused to catch his breath, then continued, “I couldn’t find one, so I had to come into Iran... to look here. I saw the... fishing vessel... and sneaked aboard as they were all eating supper... I hid in the hold.” He doubled over, coughing violently, and then vomited.

The officer jumped back, but the doctor stood in the doorway and spoke.

“You have symptoms of the virus, and it is highly contagious. Your case has advanced quickly, so I am required to notify the provincial health authority. They will send an ambulance to take you to hospital, where you will receive treatment that may save your life... but I doubt it.”

“Please... help me.” Henry stretched his arm up toward the medical man, who turned his back and walked away. The sailor quickly locked the iron door and stepped back.

The old physician said something in Farsi, and El-Alija protested briefly but then cautiously approached the cell.

“He says that anyone who was in close contact with you has been exposed, including myself and all the men of the Boghammar who caught you. We are to be quarantined, but the fishing boat’s crew must be taken with you to the provincial hospital for observation.”

The officer knit his brows. “God damn you fucking English, always thinking only of yourselves!” He spit on the floor, turned, and left

Henry groaned and rolled over to face the wall. He allowed himself the tiniest bit of a smile as he fell into a restless sleep.

Some time later, a commotion roused him from his delirium. The base commander had returned, again accompanied by the physician, who was now wearing a yellow plastic coverall and his hands were gloved. He also wore a tight-fitting surgical mask and plastic safety goggles.

Turning over toward the two men, Henry croaked, “What is it now? Am I going to hospital?”

The officer answered. “The doctor has experience dealing with the virus you have brought here. You will go with him. The ambulance has arrived.”

Two attendants, also garbed in protective gear, appeared and helped Henry to his feet. Lifting his arms across their shoulders, they hurried him out of the headquarters building and trundled him into a waiting vehicle, helping him to stretch out on a gurney.

Turning back toward the commander, the physician said solemnly, “This base is now under strict quarantine. You are to have no contact with the outside world, and you must allow no one in or out for the next 14 days. Symptoms do not appear immediately, so I will come in two days to examine everyone.”

Looking Senior Lieutenant El-Alija in the eye, he sternly warned, “If anyone shows signs of the virus, they are to be immediately isolated from the rest. You have some place to do that?”

The officer shrugged, “Only the brig.”

“Then use that. Try to keep them comfortable, but avoid all contact. This includes the officers.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

As he lay in the vehicle, Henry looked around. The captain of the Al-Masjid, the four fishermen and Bijan were seated on benches on both sides of the interior. Henry groaned loudly and closed his eyes wearily.

He heard the rear doors close and a few moments later felt movement as the ambulance drove away with the two attendants in the front compartment.

It took a few minutes for the vehicle to traverse the small naval base and make its way onto the city streets. The gate slammed shut behind them and was chained and locked.

The doctor leaned over with a hypodermic in his hand, injected Henry in the arm, and nodded in approval as color began to return to his patient’s face.

“There, you old sod. I think this should bring you round proper handily.”

Henry grinned up at Winnie. “Quite a get-up you’ve got on there.”

His rescuer laughed, and was joined by the sailors and Bijan.

Henry continued, “I’m damned glad you had a Plan B — one that actually fucking worked.”

“What? You doubted it would?”

“Not for a second.”

Turning toward Bijan, he smiled, “I imagine you had quite a fright when the goddamned Boghammar returned.”

Bijan took a deep breath and nodded. “I didn’t know what to think.” He paused a moment. “Does this mean you expected all this to happen?”

“Expected? No, but we did have a plan, in case things went tits-up.”

Winnie added, “There was always a chance the nosy patrol would take you back to port for questioning, even if they didn’t find anything in their search.”

The young man turned to Henry. “But you had some sort of virus... or did you?”

“Let us say His Lordship had all the symptoms of an illness that is currently raging in Afghanistan and neighboring countries.”

“I don’t... Oh, it was like my sleep drug.”

“Spot on. It mimicked the condition...”

Henry interrupted. “It didn’t mimic a bloody thing. That goddamn pill you gave me made me so fucking sick, and I intend to get even with you for that, old chum.”

Looking around at the Al-Masjid’s captain and crew, he turned to Winnie. “What will happen to these fellows?”

“Oh, they’ll disappear back into the identities they have been using while on assignment here in Iran.”

“You mean, they’re...”

“Agents. Yes, they all are.”

“But won’t El-Alija check to see if we arrived at the provincial hospital?”

“He and the entire base are quarantined for two weeks, so he will probably focus on the fear of coming down with a fatal virus for a while at least.”

“What about the Revolutionary Guard? Will they investigate and test all the sailors?”

“The IRGC and the Navy are completely separate entities and often rivals. The IRGC is not likely to ask the Navy for help, and the IRIN isn’t obliged to report anything to the Guard. Their lack of cooperation helps us a lot.”

Henry smiled and nodded. “So, where the bloody hell are we headed now?”

“Oddly enough, given your cover story, we’ll be crossing into Turkmenistan on a back road in about an hour. You and Bijan will resume your voyage to Astara, this time avoiding Iranian territorial waters. Your new conveyance is waiting in a little fishing village called Esenguly.”

Henry nodded, once again impressed with Winnie’s preparations.

“One thing, though.”

Henry raised his eyebrows.

“How the hell did you come up with that bloody alias — Harry Peters?”

With a broad grin, Henry teased, “Think about it.”

Winnie knit his brow, then laughed out loud. “Of course. Your favorite plaything, hairy peters!”

True to his word, Winnie deposited Henry and Bijan on a small wooden pier as night was falling.

Henry looked at the empty dock. “Where is this ‘conveyance’ you spoke of?”

“Oh, it will be here soon. We couldn’t risk mooring it for long. You’ll see why.”

“Why the mystery?”

“As I was saying... ah, I believe that’s it just now.”

Henry peered into the dusk. A ship larger than the Iranian Boghammar slowly pulled into its berth.

“What the hell?” Henry exclaimed, as he made out a Russian flag flying from the topmast.

“Clever, isn’t it?” Winnie said proudly. “Of course, any real Russian naval vessel would know this one isn’t proper, but we don’t expect to encounter any of them tonight. Admiralty Intelligence reports their entire fleet is engaged in exercises off the coast of Astrakhan, far to the north.”

He winked and continued. “But anyone, especially Iranian, who sees this ship is sure to give it wide berth. The fucking Russkies pretty much own the Caspian Sea, and they don’t take kindly to any interference.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” Henry gave Winnie a quick hug and he and Bijan boarded the “Russian” corvette.

They sailed well outside Iranian waters, and the passage was uneventful this time.

Henry and Bijan went down to the crew quarters to clean up. The young man gratefully removed his stinking clothes and tossed them out a porthole into the dark sea.

Naked, he joined Henry in the small communal shower area.

The two fugitives stood for a moment, taking in every bit of each other’s handsome bodies.

“There’s only one shower head, so we’ll have to take turns.” Henry pointed out.

“Or... we could stand under it together.”

“Now, that’s a better idea.”

“And perhaps we could help each other with the soap... our backs, you know?”

“An even better idea.”

They stepped forward and kissed. Hugging Henry tightly, Bijan suddenly shuddered. He turned his head and rested it on Henry’s shoulder. “I, er... I...”

“I know. It’s been a fucking living hell for you. Just let it out. This will be over soon.”

Bijan began to sob and Henry pulled him close. With one hand on the young man’s head, he gently stroked his back with the other to comfort him.

Their flaccid cocks pressed against each other, but neither was turned on by this emotional moment.

After a bit, Bijan straightened and wiped his eyes.

Smiling with unconcealed affection, he bussed Henry on the lips and said, “Thanks. Thank you for everything — for risking your life to save me, for getting me through all this shit... for being a good friend...” He grinned, “...and for having such a fucking hot body!”

They both laughed.

Henry chuckled, “So, let’s get your hot body back to the condition that I so admired there in the safe house.”

Taking up two bars of soap, they began attending to each other.

As Henry scrubbed Bijan’s back, he said, “Now this is more like it. You have beautiful skin, and I’ve wanted to touch it since the moment we met.”

Bijan laughed. “And now you can, but I’m sure you’d like to do more than that. You must be very frustrated.”

He turned around to look at his rescuer and saw that Henry’s cock was pointing at him.

“It looks like you want to do more than just touch my skin.”

“I should think that would be obvious.”

“Well, I won’t say I’m not interested, but you know the crew is just up on the deck, and someone could come down here at any moment.”

“Wouldn’t that make it even more exciting — the danger of getting caught in the act?”

“Perhaps, but we’d have a lot of explaining to do. Aren’t you supposed to maintain a professional distance from the ones you’re protecting?”

Henry took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Bijan. “Is this distance professional enough for you?”

Bijan smiled and patted Henry’s ass cheeks. “Not at all, but it will have to do for now.”

The young man was also hard now, and the two drew their bodies together tightly. Their cocks were squeezed between their bellies.

They kissed roughly and passionately, and Henry ached for more but knew he could go no further.

Pulling away and taking a deep breath, he nodded to Bijan. “You’re right. We will have to hold this thought until we’re some place private and have all the time we need to enjoy one another properly.”

“I’m dying for that moment to arrive.”

A footfall on the ladder interrupted them, and they quickly turned their backs to each other. To hide their erections, they both bent over and lathered their legs and ankles.

The sailor picked up what he was looking for, glanced at the two naked men and smiled knowingly. “The captain says you can come up on deck as soon as you don’t smell like shit and dead fish.”

The sun was rising as the ship pulled into the dock at Astara. An hour earlier, the red, white, and blue Russian flag had been replaced by the mostly green standard of Turkmenistan.

Needing some sleep after the exhausting events of the past couple of days, the two precious passengers had gone back down to the crew quarters.

Henry was in a bunk, dozing. He stretched out his legs with his back rested against the bulkhead, and his young charge lay curled up against his shoulder, snoring softly.

Bijan stirred in his sleep and Henry came fully awake. The younger man was nestled against him with one elbow pressing firmly on Henry’s hardening cock.

Despite his sense of duty, Henry’s body responded to the warm closeness and sensuality of the handsome young man, now washed and dressed as better befit his station.

Henry shifted his hips to try to relieve the pressure.

Bijan woke. Glancing down at his elbow, he turned his face upward with a naughty grin.

Giving his rescuer’s erection a gentle nudge, he teased. “Having a wet dream, were you?”

Henry snorted, “More like you were.”

“Doesn’t matter who it was. This is super sexy.”

“That goes without saying, and the little taste we had in the shower has left me ready, willing, and able to take things a lot farther... but you know we can’t, at least until we’re safely out of this mess.” Henry kissed the young man on the forehead. “So, much as I hate to say it, please remove your damn elbow from my knob.”

Snickering, Bijan sat up. “Shall I replace it with my hand... or my mouth?”

Henry’s frustration got the better of him. He said roughly, “You clearly know how to get a bloke going, but goddammit, you have to stop right now. That’s a fucking order.”

Bijan’s face fell. “I was only teasing. I’m sorry.”

Henry’s heart melted. “I know, and I can’t say I didn’t like it. We’re both on edge. We’ve been through hell and back, and a good long shag is what we need more than anything. But some things will just have to wait.”

“I can wait if we have to , but I can’t stop thinking about having sex with you.”

His rescuer winked at the sensual young man. “Hold that thought. If we come out of this alive, there’s lots I’d like to say to you — and do with you.”

Bijan grinned and winked back. “Hold that thought!”