“You sound certain of their intentions.”
“It’s what I would do.” Remington glanced around furtively. Cody was no longer at his side. The CIA section chief had stepped away and was talking on a sat-phone. And keeping an eye on him. When their gazes locked, Cody folded the phone and put it away.
“You’ve got a reputation for being an aggressive military leader,”
Campbell stated.
“I’d like to think that’s well earned.”
“The American military position, of late, has been particularly aggressive in the pursuit of terrorism. You’ve been a big proponent of acting first in several highly publicized incidents.”
“Even before the disappearances,” Remington said, “we were facing a new world. The United States has become a target to many terrorist factions. You don’t get anywhere in this life by lying back and letting someone kick sand in your face.”
“Do you think you can hold Sanliurfa against the Syrian army?”
Grimly aware that the broadcast feed was going out live, Remington kept his poker face on. “I’ve been ordered to hold this city against hostile incursion. Until I’m ordered to do anything else, that’s what I’m going to do. The Syrians have attacked before, and we held them.”
“Pardon me for pointing this out, but the Syrian forces that attacked earlier weren’t as prepared as the reinforcements staging in Harran are going to be. If the Syrian army starts pulling SCUD missiles into that town and launching from there, isn’t that going to be tremendously different from what you’ve faced in the past?”
“That depends on whether the Pentagon chooses to allow the Syrians to build up arms in that area.” Remington shook his head, still wondering what Cody had been up to. The captain was certain the CIA agent had recognized Icarus as well. “I’m not in favor of allowing the enemy to strengthen its position.”
“Surely you’re not talking about attacking the Syrians in Harran after you’ve retreated from there.”
“Not retreated,” Remington said. “ Repositioned. Soldiers are more important than hardware in a battle. I needed those men here. I didn’t need them lost.”
“Sir,” Archer called. The lieutenant stood looking over a computer tech’s shoulder at one of the monitors. A worried expression filled his face.
Remington made a mental note to discuss wearing his feelings on his sleeve in front of the media. He told Campbell, “Excuse me.”
“Certainly. OneWorld NewsNet looks forward to speaking with you again.” Campbell stepped back.
Remington immediately regretted losing the camera. He liked the attention focused on him. He crossed to Archer. “What is it?”
“We’ve got a bogey in the field, Captain,” Archer said in a low voice.
Remington automatically scanned the sky but didn’t see anything. Then he noticed the two Land Rovers streaking across the open terrain headed south. They were off-road, traveling too fast for the broken countryside.
“Who are they?” Remington demanded.
“We don’t know, sir.”
“Can you tighten the view on them?”
The computer tech rapped the keyboard with his fingertips. The view on the television monitor zoomed in on the two SUVs racing south toward Harran.
“When did you pick them up?” Remington asked.
“Just now.”
“Where did they come from?”
“The road.” Archer moved to another computer. “Roll back the sat-feed a couple minutes,” he instructed the tech.
Remington divided his attention between the two computer monitors. He glanced at Cody, but the CIA section chief was keeping his distance. On the second monitor, Remington watched as the two SUVs sped along the road. At 0809 hours, by the time-date stamp at the bottom of the screen, the SUVs suddenly altered course and went cross-country.
What had caused them to veer off the road? Cold dread twisted through his stomach as suspicion took root in his mind. The Land Rovers hurtled along like predators with the scent of prey in their nostrils. Going top speed like that, they weren’t hunting anymore. They were moving in for the kill.
Remington focused on the first monitor. “Pull back the view on those SUVs.”
The computer tech started doing that. “How far, sir?”
“I want the bogeys and the Black Angel squadron on-screen at the same time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Captain,” Archer called. He was pointing at the monitor where the focus was on Harran. “The Syrians had SCUDs in some of the supply trucks. They’re setting them up.”
Curiosity fled Remington as he took in the new threat. The Syrians hadn’t come prepared just to take Harran. They’d also come to unleash destruction on Sanliurfa. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. It was something he would have done.
The UN commander standing nearby cursed. So did the Turkish commander.
“Sound the alarms in the city, Lieutenant,” Remington snapped. “Put everyone on red alert.”
“Yes, sir.” Archer turned away, already giving orders to get it done.
The warning cry of the alarm Klaxons ripped through the morning.
Remington felt uneasy. The command post was safe enough against SCUDs armed with high explosives, but biological weapons- or nuclear, if it came to that-were a different story.
Most of the people had cleared out of the city streets once the attack began in Harran. Everyone had known that it could spill over into Sanliurfa.
“Captain,” the computer tech said, “I’ve got the Black Angels and the bogeys on-screen.”
Remington studied the monitor. He wasn’t surprised to see the Land Rovers were headed straight for the helos. He turned from the computer and headed over to Cody.
The CIA section chief stood his ground.
“Are those your men?” Remington snarled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cody replied.
“I’m talking about those two Land Rovers on an intercept course with my helos.”
“No,” Cody replied flatly.
Remington knew the man was lying. There were no tells, no mannerisms, and no voice inflections to give the falsehood away. But nothing else made sense.
“What are you after?” Remington asked.
Cody hesitated. “Believe it or not, Captain, the same thing you are.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Captain Remington,” another lieutenant called, “we’ve just confirmed multiple Syrian launches. We’re tracking eleven SCUDs in the air. All of them are headed for us.”
Remington returned to the computer tech. “Tell the Patriot missile systems to engage when they’ve got target lock. I don’t want any of those blasted things getting through.”
“Yes, sir.”
Remington looked again at the helo squadron and the Land Rovers. “How far away is Black Angel squadron?”
“Almost fifty klicks, sir.”
“How close are the bogeys?”
“Five-point-eight klicks.” The corporal sat up straighter. “The bogeys have stopped, sir.”
Remington saw that for himself. The vehicles had stopped in tandem. Doors opened and ten men deployed.
“Zoom in,” Remington ordered.
The corporal did.
When the magnification was great enough, Remington saw the weapons two of the men carried were rocket launchers. The Black Hawks didn’t create enough heat to draw heat-seeking ordnance, but when they were flying
