…or worse. As he scanned the area farther east, he could see three tiny fast-moving dots on the horizon, rolling in and lining up right down the middle of Setam-Gari Avenue — Pasdaran attack jets! They looked like Russian-made Sukhoi-24 close air-support bombers, laden with bombs on both wings. The bastard Zolqadr was actually going to bomb the city from fast-movers! There would be nothing left of this entire avenue for the Pasdaran infantry to clean up after this attack was over! He looked to the west and saw another attack formation, this time of two more Su-24 bombers. “Run!” Buzhazi shouted. “Get out! Get away from here! The Pasdaran will attack any moment…!”
Seconds later, the jets attacked…but not on Setam-Gari Avenue. At the last second the jets peeled away, banking hard…and lining up on the advancing Pasdaran forces.
The jets to the east attacked first, launching radar-guided air-to-air missiles on the helicopters and shooting them down nearly simultaneously before peeling away. In a precisely coordinated attack which left almost no time for the men on the ground to react, seconds later the jets to the west swept over the Pasdaran infantry formations, dropping anti-personnel clusterbomb canisters. It appeared the entire air base lit up with thousands of flashbulbs, but Buzhazi knew that each “flashbulb” was a half-kilogram explosive charge that sent metal fragments out in all directions, killing or maiming anyone within ten meters.
“Hoseyn, you bastard,” Buzhazi said aloud as he watched in relieved fascination at the scene of destruction right before him, “you finally got off your ass and decided to do something.”
Just as quickly as it began, it was over. The airbase was obscured with thick smoke from the clusterbomb explosions, exploding vehicles, and from the burning wreckage of the attack choppers. Soon the terrifying sounds of injured and dying soldiers reached the crowd’s ears, and they turned away and started to quickly leave the area.
“Who are you people?” Buzhazi asked anyone within earshot. “Where did you come from?” But the jubilant masses said little that he could understand.
Buzhazi returned to the Bank Sepah building to look for survivors, where he found members of Second Company already searching the rubble. “Not much left, sir,” the sergeant in charge of Lion Two reported. “I guess the air force decided to get into the fight after all, sir?”
“Looks that way,” Buzhazi said. “General Yassini finally came to his senses — or his service commanders did. I think they’ll have the Pasdaran on the run. I hope they took out the Pasdaran’s missiles, though, or we could be attacked again at any moment.”
“Those people that marched down the street? They said they were organized by a member of the Qagev royal family, a girl no less, to rise up and throw out the Pasdaran. Do you believe that, sir?”
“Qagev? I haven’t heard that name since history class in grade school — ancient history. I didn’t know there were any still around.” Buzhazi shook his head in disbelief. “Now we have to contend with a damned monarchy? Well, it can’t be any worse than the theocrats and Islamists. If they are, we’ll be picking up guns and fighting all over again.”
“What hit the first gunship, sir? It didn’t look like a missile.”
“Just call it a lightning bolt from heaven,” Buzhazi said, scanning around to look for his unseen but very powerful armored savior. “Let’s finish searching this area for survivors, then let’s head off to the rendezvous point to join up with the rest of the battalion. Then we’ll find out what in hell is going on around here.”
CHAPTER 8
“Zolqadr? Are you there?” the voice of Ayatollah Hassan Mohtaz thundered over the wireless phone. “Answer me, damn you! What’s happening out there?”
General Ali Zolqadr, commander of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards Corps, was standing open-mouthed on the roof of the Pasdaran-i-Engelab headquarters on the western side of Doshan Tappeh Air Base. He lowered his pair of field glasses as if looking at the horrific scene with his own eyes would somehow change the situation. Just seconds ago he was gleefully watching his plan to crush Buzhazi and his insurgency unfold exactly as planned — he was so confident in victory that he decided to call Mohtaz and tell him the good news himself. Then, just as abruptly, everything completely collapsed. He had just watched the utter elimination of an entire battalion of elite Shock Troops and a company of attack helicopters!
“Uh…I…Your Excellency, I will have to call you back,” Zolqadr stammered. “I…I…must…”
“You will explain what is happening out there now!” Mohtaz ordered. “I am watching the television news, and they are reporting several helicopters down and large multiple explosions on the base! What’s going on?”
“I…Your Excellency, just now, several attack and interceptor fighters attacked my troops as they were about to begin mopping-up operations,” Zolqadr explained.
“Fighters? Whose fighters?”
“They were our fighters, sir!” Zolqadr exclaimed. “I don’t know where they came from!”
“Who gave the orders to launch fighters? Yassini? Where is Yassini?”
“He’s in my jail, sir,” Zolqadr said. He turned his binoculars toward the security and interrogation building… and saw it on fire. “There is…I see smoke coming from the security building…”
“Never mind that! Did you get Buzhazi? Did your men attack? Damn you, answer me! What’s happening?”
“My men…yes, they did attack, but…but the jet attack fighters, they came out of nowhere…we had no warning…they’re all…all…”
“Your entire force…dead?” Mohtaz asked incredulously. “I thought you sent an entire battalion, almost half of the entire force based at Doshan Tappeh! You’re telling me they were all killed?”
“Excellency, I need to get a report from my staff,” Zolqadr said. He finally noticed his chief of staff standing before him with a piece of paper in his hands. “Wait, I have a report now. Stand by, please.” He accepted the field report, his mouth and throat running dry as he read in complete astonishment and fear. “We…we are evacuating the base, sir,” he muttered.
“What did you say, Zolqadr?” Mohtaj screamed over the radio.
“The insurgents are overrunning the base, collecting weapons and supplies and releasing prisoners,” Zolqadr said in a shaking voice. “Thousands of regular army troops and civilians are with them. Security forces are engaging, but they are outnumbered, and some are joining them. I don’t have all the details yet. I’m at least a kilometer from the fighting and…”
“Destroy Buzhazi at all costs,” Mohtaz said angrily. “Don’t let him escape.”
“I’ll assemble an entire brigade if I have to, Excellency, but I’ll…”
“No, Zolqadr,” Mohtaz said. “After Buzhazi is done slaughtering the Pasdaran, he will come after the government ministers and the clerics. You must stop him before he can assault the executive branch, the Majlis, the Assembly of Experts, or the Council of Guardians. And if the military is conspiring with Buzhazi to bring down the government, they must be destroyed as well.”
“I’ll get a status report on my forces and send them immediately to do everything in my power to…”
“You’re not hearing what I’m saying, Zolqadr,” Mohtaz said. “I want you to destroy Buzhazi before he gets away from Doshan Tappeh and escapes again.”
“But Excellency, we don’t have the forces here to oppose him,” Zolqadr said. “It’ll take us several hours, perhaps days, to assemble a force large enough to crush him. And if the regular army supports his insurgency as the report claims, he may be unstoppable. I will…”
“I’ll tell you what you will do, General,” Mohtaj said. “Destroy Buzhazi, now. Launch an attack immediately and blanket the entire base.”
“But sir, I just told you, it will take hours to assemble…”
“I don’t mean with ground forces, Zolqadr. Use the same forces you used against the insurgents in Aran.”
“Aran? But we didn’t…” And then Zolqadr finally realized what Mohtaj was telling him to do. “You
