Turpin's efforts. He had legally purchased the vehicles from the Brazilian government using his international weapons export license. But he still had had to grease some palms since the vehicles should have been turned over to regular armored infantry units. When Turpin presented his money for the deal, he showed an end-use certificate that was signed by officials of the Iranian Defense Ministry. The fact that it was genuine impressed the Brazilians, who were shipping them as cargo to an official military warehouse located on the docks in the port city of Bandar-e Abbas. What they didn't know was that Brigadier Khohollah, the receiving officer, was in the Iranian Special Forces. His assignment was the command of a Muslim insurgency group known as Jihad Abadi Eternal Holy War. However, the mujahideen in the organization were not Iranians. Instead, they were Arabs from several different countries who had been recruited by Iranian intelligence as part of a supersecret program to take over all insurgencies in the Middle East.
The operation was so clandestine that Khohollah had to keep the vehicles out of the army's established intendance system, unlisted and unnoticed. It took him three months of easing them out on commercial transport trucks a few at a time to get them to Chehaar Garrison, where they sat that day.
Captain Arsalaan Sikes's fast-assault company was a brand-new unit of Jihad Abadi. He and his troops were just beginning a campaign out of eastern Iran. The military post, twenty-five kilometers from the Afghan border on the east, was locked in by a near-impassible salt marsh. However, a well-camouflaged solid road had been built through the marshes that offered a way through the treacherous terrain. The Jihad Abadi, under the command and control of Iranian Special Forces, was now ready to conduct a campaign of harassment and intimidation against the infidel invaders of Afghanistan by making surprise attacks out of Iran. Through the use of the secret route, they would be able to strike fast and hard, then retreat back through the salt marshes to the safety of Chehaar Garrison.
Now Captain Sikes shook hands with Turpin and Khohollah, then turned to his troops, ordering them inside their vehicles. He walked to his own EE-3 and climbed on top to slip through the hatch and occupy the commander's seat. As soon as he was settled, he grabbed the microphone of his tactical radio. He pressed the transmit button and spoke out the call sign to alert the other nineteen vehicles. Ilhakni min karib follow at close intervals!
The convoy quickly formed into a column as he led them toward the road that would carry them through the marshes and into Afghanistan.
IT had been ten years before when Archibald Sikes arrived at the induction depot of the crack Royal Regiment of Dragoons at Ragland Barracks just outside London. Even though he still had that adolescent civilian awkwardness about him, one of the drill sergeants who had been giving the detachment of recruits a critical survey suddenly sighted Archibald. The NCO leaned over to the duty corporal and said, Now there's a lad that's keen as bluddy mustard.
The sergeant didn't know the half of it.
Archie came from a working-class family his father was employed in a building materials warehouse as a stockman and the boy had always hoped for a better life. He disliked school a great deal, being unable to get along with the teachers or his fellow students, who considered him an odd duck. He had ambitions for money and glory, but lacked the maturity to attain his goals through acquiring superior work skills or an advanced education. Through his illogical and senseless thought processes, he decided that becoming a war hero would be the way to go. He fantasized about leading a division or corps of troops to a great victory, then becoming famous and adored by the British public. Of course, after performing these great deeds, he would be decorated, knighted, and given a peerage and a great estate by a grateful monarch.
Archie used to sit at his desk in the classroom, completely oblivious to what the teacher was saying, writing over and over in his notebook: Field Marshal Lord Archibald Sikes, VC, DSO, GCB, GCMG. He would have added more to that abbreviated list of the Victoria Cross, Distinguished Service Order, Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath, and Knight Grand Cross of the Order of Saint Michael and Saint George, but those were the only ones he knew about.
Eventually, as his inattentive moments lengthened in time and frequency, Archie flunked out of school completely, and his exasperated father got him a job as a helper in the warehouse. The young man endured that existence with the same amount of carelessness he had given his studies, and he proved to be a slow, inefficient worker. If it hadn't been for his dad, he would have been given the sack straightaway. When he turned eighteen, he did everybody a favor by announcing his plans to enlist in the Army.
The decision of which regiment to join was something that Archie had already given a great deal of care and attention. In the end, he chose the Royal Regiment of Dragoons for some surprisingly intelligent and mature reasons, and not because of their bearskin busbies and fancy blue uniforms with red facings. While the unit was not a member of the Brigade of Guards, it was a prestigious organization with a long and glorious history in the service of the Empire. The officer cadre were all upper-crust chaps from the right families who could supplement their Army pay to meet the considerable expenses of serving as rankers. These included their privately owned mounts in the regimental stables for polo, individually tailored and fitted uniforms, very high mess dues, correct costly civilian attire, special subscriptions, mandatory social functions, and other outlays required of officers and gentlemen of the Royal Regiment of Dragoons.
Rather than operate as a tank outfit like other cavalry units in the British Army, the regiment closely followed the traditional mission of dragoons, who in bygone days were horsemen who dismounted to do battle. However, in these modern days, armored personnel carriers were used in lieu of mounts. These state-of-the-art dragoons, in fact, were armored infantrymen superbly drilled in the procedures of dismounting APCs to launch well-coordinated attacks against the enemy. These operations were performed while being covered by fusillades from machine guns mounted in turrets on the vehicles.
This was the military environment that Private Archibald Sikes moved into as he began his Army career. And his military goal was to earn an officer's commission in the regiment and eventually become its commander before moving upward into the cadre of general officers to the rank of field marshal.
As it turned out, the daydreaming misfit quickly evolved into a dedicated soldier. Although he developed no close friendships with his fellow dragoons, Archie impressed his superiors enough to earn his way up through the ranks. After five years of service he was a sergeant, efficiently bossing a platoon under the command of an appreciative lieutenant. In fact, it was this approving subaltern who happily signed Archie's application for admittance to officer training.
Unfortunately, this was where Archie's devotion to the Royal Regiment of Dragoons went into the toilet.
When he went before the commissioning board of officers, the aspirant's record was looked on with great approval. His verbal skills in the question-and-answer part of the interview increased the board's collective opinion. After the session went on for a couple of hours, the officers withdrew to consider the application.
Meanwhile, Archie went outside for a smoke, nervous and apprehensive. When the corporal-clerk called him back in, the candidate went back to his chair. A quick look at the faces of the board members showed he had scored big. He fought back a triumphant grin as the chairman, a major who commanded one of the companies of another squadron, looked Archie straight in the eye. We have approved your application, Sergeant Sikes, he said in the usual clipped, no-nonsense style of the British Army. You are to be congratulated.
Thank you, sir, Archie said. I promise you won't be disappointed in approving me.
We're certain of that, Sergeant, the major said. Which regiment have you chosen to be assigned to after you've completed your officers' training?
Archie frowned in puzzlement. Why, this one, sir. The Royal Regiment of Dragoons.
The officers looked at each other with amused smiles. The major spoke in a kindly but firm tone. I'm afraid that is not possible, Sergeant. You must choose another regiment. Actually, it can be either infantry or armored.
But why can't I choose this regiment, sir? Archie asked.
Sergeant Sikes, the major said sternly. You would hardly fit into our officers' mess, would you? You haven't the background, the education, the money, or the social graces. I fear we would not find you or any other NCO suitable for either professional or social interaction.
But I know for a fact that Major Brewster was an NCO right here in this same Royal Regiment of Dragoons, Archie argued.
Major Brewster is the regimental quartermaster, the major explained. He was given a commission in that capacity because being a quartermaster is not a gentleman's position. It has to do with the handling of supplies much like a shopkeeper. We, because of our stations in society, will not perform such low-class work. He was
