Go back in time and be a chaebol

Chapter 2658 Homeless Person (Second Update, Please Subscribe)

Many years later, Said still remembered the moment he piloted his fighter jet through Iraqi airspace.

In that instant, Said's tense nerves in the cockpit finally relaxed.

When the F-14 fighter jet landed smoothly on the runway of Basra Air Base, and he saw the Iraqi military personnel waiting on the ground, as he opened the canopy and an Iraqi officer extended his hand to welcome him, he truly felt that this life-or-death escape had finally come to an end.

Subsequently, all the fleeing Iranian pilots and their families were accommodated – the base's barracks were temporarily cleared out.

Because there were so many people, it felt a bit crowded and cramped. Five or six family members squeezed into a bunk bed, but at least they had a place to shelter from the wind and rain.

Actually, that's not entirely true, since the bungalows do have air conditioning.

Moreover, the base's canteen provides ample food every day, including hot naan bread, beef, mutton, and fresh vegetable salads.

Compared to the days of living in constant fear in Iran before their escape, it was a world of difference. At the medical station, military doctors were conducting basic medical examinations for the elderly and children; in short, they were taking extremely good care of them.

The children seemed to adapt to life here first. Not long after they arrived, they began chasing and playing in the open space outside the barracks. Their laughter made all the pilots who had risked their lives to escape feel that it was all worthwhile.

After all, the reason they took the risk was for their families.

Summer sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the base's tarmac and the fighter jets that had flown in from Iran.

Hundreds of fighter jets and transport planes were lined up neatly, and the Iranian Air Force insignia on the fuselage were still clearly visible, suggesting that their owners may have changed.

Said had a Bactrian camel cigarette dangling from his mouth. It was a cigarette provided by the Iraqi military. Both the cigarette and the long-lost Fanta felt somewhat familiar to him, after all, this was their past life.

Familiar things always make people feel more at ease.

Standing beside the barbed wire fence surrounding the camp, his gaze did not fall on the Iraqi soldiers, who were not guarding them, but protecting their safety.

De Huilan was determined to retaliate against these "defectors," so to protect their safety, they had to stay in the military base for the time being.

Said frowned as he watched the planes they were flying in the distance, and then he couldn't help but let out a sigh.

Just then, Majid, Hamid, and Karim also came over. None of the four spoke; they stood silently by the barbed wire fence, quietly smoking.

"Yesterday I saw Iraqi ground crew inspecting our F-14s,"

Majid broke the silence first, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of melancholy:

"They said these fighter jets are more advanced than the F-2s they are equipped with, and Grumman reportedly agreed to provide them with technical assistance, and the US government does not object to them using these aircraft—these aircraft now belong to them."

Said exhaled a smoke ring, and though I didn't want to admit it, he still spoke:

“These planes no longer belong to us from the moment we crossed the border. Nor do they belong to Iran.”

His fingers gripped the barbed wire, his eyes fixed on the fighter plane that had once belonged to him.

That F-14, like him, has come to an end with the past.

"The plane has found a new home, but what about us?"

Hamid's voice was filled with anxiety as he turned to his friends and said:
"Iraq is only taking us in temporarily. After all, their relationship with Tehran is very tense right now. Where are we going next?"

Compared to the ownership of the fighter jets, this is now the most serious problem they face.

The group fell silent again, their gazes still fixed on the fighter jets, as if they could find the answer there.

In reality, they had no answers; after all, they were human beings, not fighter jets.

When the cigarette had burned to the end, Said threw the butt on the ground and crushed it out with the sole of his shoe.

"The only paths we can discuss are those few."

He said slowly:
"The United States has stated that it is willing to accept some pilots and their families and provide them with political asylum; Germany and France in Europe have also softened their stance, saying that they can accept some people."

"To America? Or Europe?"

Karim looked at the sky, remained silent for a moment, and then said in a very unwilling tone:
"We took such a huge risk to escape from Iran, only to end up living as dependents in another country? Is this what we wanted?"

His words were like a key, unlocking the emotions that had been suppressed for a long time.

Majid added:

"Yes, is it possible that we went through all this trouble just to seek refuge in other countries?"

What about Iran?

What about our country?

"Are we just going to watch it sink into darkness?" His voice rose higher and higher, his tone becoming increasingly agitated.
"We swore to protect it, but now... we've left, just to go to America, to Europe. To live what they call a good life?"

"But what can we do?"

Said turned to look at him, his eyes filled with resentment, and said, "If we don't leave, we will only be executed by the Imam's men. We left Iran, but we all know very well that we are powerless to change the future."

“We are powerless—yes, we are truly powerless.” Hamid sighed, then said:

"After we left Iran, the United States, Europe and many other countries expressed their views, condemning the Imam and praising our actions as a march toward freedom."

But what about our king? What about King Pahlavi? He didn't utter a single comment from beginning to end!

These words were like a bucket of cold water, instantly chilling everyone's hearts.

The Pahlavi king, the monarch they once served, chose to go into exile when the country needed him, and from then on, everything that happened in Iran seemed to have nothing to do with him anymore.

He had given several speeches at the time, hoping that the regime would treat the Iranian people well.

That's all.

After they arrived in Basra, television and radio broadcast news from various countries every day, but there was never any news about King Pahlavi.

The king never spoke about their actions, nor did he send anyone to visit them.

"Because the king has abandoned Iran, and he has abandoned us as well."

Karim's voice was filled with deep disappointment, even a hint of despair, as he looked at the distant plane and said:
“From the beginning of the year, when His Majesty chose to leave Tehran and go into exile abroad, it was already destined that His Majesty did not care about the fate of this country at all—perhaps he cared about the people there, but... now he has effectively abandoned all of us, abandoned the whole of Iran.”

As he finished speaking, a gust of wind blew by, stirring up dust from the ground and brushing against the faces of the four men.

The children's laughter still echoed clearly on the grass in the camp, but it couldn't lift their spirits.

For a moment, they all fell silent, their mood even heavier than before.

They were once elite members of the Iranian Air Force, vowing to protect their country, but now they are homeless exiles.

They even lost their own country, and not only that, they had to watch helplessly as the country they had sworn to protect was plunged into darkness.

"Perhaps leaving is the only option."

After a long silence, Said slowly spoke, his voice filled with deep helplessness:
"After all, we left Iran to survive, for our families. For our families, we have no choice but to accept all of this and accept reality."

"Accept reality..."

Majid sighed and said:

"Yes, if we don't accept reality, what else can we do? There's nothing we can do. It's just..."

He paused, not continuing, but everyone understood what he meant—he couldn't let go.

Who could possibly let go of it?

Hamid took out a cigarette case from his pocket, handed one to each person, lit the cigarette, and took a deep drag.
"In fact, no matter where we go, we can never go back. Iran is no longer the Iran we know."

The cult leader's rule will only grow more brutal, and we don't know if our relatives and friends left there will survive these dark days.

Mentioning their relatives and friends left behind in Iran weighed heavily on everyone's hearts. Their escape was so rushed that most of them hadn't had time to say goodbye to their loved ones in Iran.

The cult leader's purge is in full swing. Will those who have had contact with them be implicated?
At this thought, everyone fell silent.

Just then, Karim said:

"Hashid... I heard he's in contact with Her Highness the Princess."

Karim's words caused everyone to turn and look at him:
"Your Highness...did she...did she make any announcements?"

A glimmer of hope suddenly flashed in Said's eyes; for all of them, the princess was their only hope.

They had tried a few months ago, but at that time no one wanted Pahlavi and His Highness the Prince.

But no one would refuse Her Highness the Princess.

But the next answer made Said feel somewhat disappointed.

"No, as of now, Her Highness has not made any statement on this matter."

That simple sentence silenced everyone. To them, the princess was their last hope.

He smiled helplessly, and then Said said.

"Well, perhaps this is Iran's fate, and it is also our fate."

As he said these words, Karim added:

"Eishid hasn't returned yet, but perhaps he will bring good news, just like the plan he devised before."

They exchanged glances and slowly nodded.

Yes, it was Hashid's advice that led them all to flee Iran when they were in dire straits, and gave them new opportunities. But can Hashid bring good news?
No one knew the answer, but they awaited it. Meanwhile, in the open space not far away, the children's laughter continued unabated...

(End of this chapter)