to stop supporting anti-Russian separatist movements inside the Russian Federation and its near abroad, such as in Kosovo, Albania, and Romania. Russia has enjoyed its most-favored-nation status for decades.”

“We knew that Russia was using Iran along with the conflict in Iraq to distract the United States from its other activities around its periphery,” Patrick said, “but we didn’t know their involvement was so widely known and accepted.”

“The aid Iran has received from the Russians is reportedly greater than what the United States gives any other nation in the region except perhaps Israel,” Azar said. “That was very important not only to keep the theocrats in power but to sustain the Iranian people. Unfortunately a lot of that aid went to the Revolutionary Guards Corps and their drastic arms buildup, which they used to crack down on any dissent in our country. But has something else changed recently? Is Russia playing a different game?”

“We believe the Russians have brought a new weapon, a powerful mobile anti-spacecraft laser, into Iran and have used it to down one of our spacecraft,” Patrick said. “Major Macomber, Captain Turlock, and Sergeant Major Wohl survived such an attack.”

“You mean, one of the spaceplanes I’ve heard so much about?” Azar asked. “They were riding in one in space when it was hit by this laser?”

“Yes, Highness. I would like assistance to hunt down this Russian weapon and neutralize it.”

“I don’t think that’ll be difficult at all,” Azar said. She handed the phone to Buzhazi, who put it on a speaker and asked Major Haddad to translate for him.

“Marshal Buzhazi?”

“Greetings, General McLanahan,” Buzhazi said through Haddad.

“Hello, Marshal. You got a promotion, I see.”

“And I judge by your unexpected call, the sudden appearance of such a large force on my doorstep, and the disturbing lack of information from your military or foreign ministries, that your career has not enjoyed similar success,” Buzhazi said. “But you helped me when I was on the run, and I was hoping to one day do the same for you. So. The Russians have shot down your spaceplane?”

“Can you help us find that laser, Buzhazi?”

“Of course. I am sure we can find it quickly, if my men do not already know where it is.”

“You sound pretty confident.”

“General, we do not automatically distrust the Russians like you do — in fact, we have more reasons to distrust the Americans,” Buzhazi said. “We are neighbors with Russia, and our borders have been safe and secure for decades; we have purchased many weapons and received substantial military, economic, industrial, and trade assistance from Russia, which was urgently important to us during all the years of the trade embargo with the West; we even still have a mutual defense treaty that is in full force and effect.”

“So you’re saying that you have been working with the Russians, Marshal,” Patrick asked with surprise, “including supplying them with information on our activities in Iran?”

“General McLanahan, sometimes the depth of the naivete of the Americans astounds me,” Buzhazi said. “We have to live here; you merely influence events here for America’s national interests, sometimes from the relative comfort of a battle staff room — or a space station. Of course we supply Russia with information, just as we supply you with information on Russia’s activities and assist you when you run into… domestic political problems, shall we say?” Again, no response from Patrick.

“We all have our own necessities, pursuits, and agendas,” Buzhazi went on. “We hope such cooperation enriches us all and is mutually beneficial, but in the end it is our own objectives that must be attended to first, no?” Again, silence. “General McLanahan? Are you still there?”

“I’m still here.”

“I am sorry to have upset or disillusioned you, General,” Buzhazi said. “You did save my life and help me defeat the Pasdaran in Qom and Tehran, and for that I would help you until the last of my days. All you had to do was ask. But you should not be so surprised to learn that I would extend similar courtesies to any other country that helps my cause, including your adversaries. So. You wish to locate this Russian mobile laser system? Very well. I shall contact you immediately through Major Macomber when I have its precise location. Is that agreeable?”

“Yes, it is, Marshal,” Patrick said. “Thank you. And what of my men there in Tehran?”

Buzhazi turned to Azar and spoke in low tones for a few moments; then: “The queen wishes to extend all possible aid and comfort to you and your men. In return, she hopes you will assist us when the time comes.”

“So do I have to worry about a Russian attack on that location, Buzhazi?” Patrick asked.

“Patrick, I think I have made myself plain to you,” Buzhazi said through his translator. “I hope you are not one of those idealistic men who believe that we help each other because we believe it is the right or just thing to do, or because one side is inherently good and the other is evil. You brought your forces to Tehran for reasons that are not entirely clear to me yet, but I know that we did not invite you. We will learn all soon, God willing. Until then, I will do what I must for our nation and our survival. You will do what you must for your men, your cause, and yourself. Hopefully all those things are mutually beneficial.” And he hung up the phone without even a departing salutation.

“Everything okay, sir?” Macomber asked via his subcutaneous transceiver after he had excused himself from Buzhazi and Azar.

“Major, I think we need to trust Buzhazi, but I just can’t make myself do it,” Patrick admitted. “He may be a patriot, but he’s first and foremost a survivor. When he was chief of staff and commander of the Pasdaran, he was fully prepared to sink an American aircraft carrier and kill thousands of sailors just to prove how tough he thought he was. I think he wants to get rid of the theocracy and the Pasdaran, but I think he’ll do anything he needs to do — include screwing us both — to survive. You’re going to have to make the call.”

“Yes, sir,” Macomber said. “I’ll let you know.”

“Well, Major?” Buzhazi asked via the electronic translator when Macomber returned. “What does your commanding officer say? Does he trust me yet?”

“No, sir, he doesn’t,” Macomber said.

“So. What shall we do?”

Macomber thought for a moment; then: “We take a little ride, Marshal.”

CHAPTER NINE

Never contend with a man who has nothing to lose.

— BALTASAR GRACiAN
OVER SOUTH-CENTRAL NEVADA EARLY THE NEXT MORNING

“Here’s the latest, guys, so listen up,” the SEAL team leader, U.S. Navy Lieutenant Mike Harden, said. The fifteen members of his SEAL platoon, all pre-breathing oxygen in the cargo compartment of their C-130 Hercules cargo plane, stopped looking at charts and turned their attention to him. “Our guy on the inside tells us that the place is virtually deserted. He counts a total of twenty Security Forces personnel, mostly centered on the main computer center next to the headquarters building. The battle staff area has been deserted and there is just a skeleton security force stationed there, about six guys. The hangars have been locked up for a couple days. This checks with our own overhead surveillance. So our objective remains the four main offices in the headquarters building: one squad each going for the security operations center, the battle management area, the communications center, and the flight operations center. Unit Bravo is right behind us, and his guys will take the hangars and the weapons storage area.

“Our guy on the inside says he’s seen just one of those CID manned robot units around the place patrolling the hangars and weapon storage area. We know they had a total of six CIDs. One was deployed to Iran, two deployed to Turkey, and one surrendered when the Rangers assaulted Battle Mountain, so there’s two left, and we have to assume they’re both at Elliott. There are approximately a dozen Tin Man units unaccounted for as

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