Rogue Forces

“Bir saniye! Excuse me, sir?” Hirsiz said. There was a lengthy pause on the other end of the line, and Gardner heard someone in the background say the word sik, which the computerized translator said meant “head of a penis.” “Pardon me, Mr. President, but as I explained to you, we thought we were attacking PKK terrorists that have only recently killed almost two dozen innocent men, women, and children in a major Turkish city. The incident in Zahuk was a horrible mistake, for which I am fully responsible and sincerely apologize to you, the families of the dead, and the people of America. But this does not give you the right to demand anything from this government.”

“There’s no reason for obscenities, President Hirsiz,” Gardner said, so flustered and angry that veins stood out on his forehead. He noticed Hirsiz did not deny or dispute the allegation, or was surprised that Gardner knew of it. “We will conduct a full investigation on this attack, and I expect your utmost cooperation. I want your complete assurance that you communicate with us and your NATO partners better in the future so attacks like this won’t happen again.”

“It was not an attack against your troops or the Iraqis, but against suspected PKK insurgents and terrorists, sir,” Hirsiz said. “Please choose your words more carefully, Mr. President. It was an accident, a tragic mistake that occurred in the defense of the homeland of the Republic of Turkey. I take responsibility for a terrible accident, sir, not an attack.”

“All right, Mr. President, all right,” Gardner said. “We will be in contact shortly regarding the arrival of forensic, military, and criminal investigators. Good night, sir.”

“I yi aksamlar. Good night, Mr. President.”

Gardner slammed the phone down. “Damn, you’d think he lost thirteen men!” he said. “Stacy?”

“I caught a little of your conversation, Mr. President,” Barbeau said. “The prime minister was apologetic, almost over-the-top so. I felt she was sincere, although she clearly sees it as an accident for which they only share responsibility.”

“Yeah? And if it was an American rocket barrage and dead Turkish troops, we’d be crucified by not just Turkey but by the entire world—we’d get all the blame and then some,” Gardner said. He sat back in his chair and ran an exasperated hand over his face. “All right, all right, screw the Turks for now. Someone messed up here, and I want to know who, and I want some butts—Turkish, Iraqi, PKK, or Americans, I don’t care, I want some butts.” He turned to the secretary of defense. “Miller, I’m going to appoint a chair to handle the investigation. I want this public—in-your-face, rough, tough, and direct. This is the greatest number of casualties in Iraq since I’ve been in office, and I’m not going to get this administration bogged down in Iraq.” He glanced for a moment at Stacy Barbeau, who made a very slight gesture with her eyes. Gardner picked up on it immediately and turned to the vice president, Kenneth T. Phoenix. “Ken, how about it? You definitely have the background.”

“Absolutely, sir,” he replied without hesitation. Kenneth Phoenix, just forty-six years old, could have been one of America’s fastest rising political stars—if only he didn’t work so hard. Law degree from UCLA, four years as a judge advocate in the U.S. Marine Corps, four years in the U.S. attorney’s office in the District of Columbia, then various offices in the Department of Justice before being nominated as attorney general.

In the years after the horror of the American holocaust, Phoenix worked tirelessly to assure the American public and the world that the United States of America would not slip into martial law. He was relentless with lawbreakers and pursued anyone, regardless of political affiliation or wealth, who sought to prey on victims of the Russian attacks. He was equally relentless with Congress and even the White House to make sure that individual rights were not violated as the government got to work rebuilding the nation and resecuring its borders.

He was so popular with the American people that there was talk of him being nominated for president of the United States to oppose another very popular man, then secretary of defense Joseph Gardner. Gardner had switched party affiliations because of his disagreements with the Martindale administration, and the move hurt his chances of winning. But in a flash of political genius, Joseph Gardner asked Phoenix to be his running mate, even though they were not in the same party. The strategy worked. The voters saw the move as a strong sign of unity and wisdom, and they won in a landslide.

“Do you think it’s a good idea sending the vice president to Iraq and Turkey, Mr. President?” the chief of staff asked. “It’s still pretty dangerous out there.”

“I’ve been monitoring the security status of Iraq, and I believe it’s plenty safe for me,” Phoenix said.

“He’s got a point, Ken,” the president said. “I thought about your qualifications and expertise, not about your safety. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, sir,” Phoenix said. “I’ll do it. It’s important to show how serious we are about this attack—to all the players in the Middle East, not just the Turks.”

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll keep my head down, sir, don’t worry,” Phoenix said. “I’ll put a team together from the Pentagon, Justice, and National Intelligence and leave tonight.”

“Tonight?” Gardner nodded and smiled. “I knew I picked the right guy. Okay, Ken, thank you, you’re on. Stacy will get all the clearances you’ll need from Baghdad, Ankara, and anywhere else the investigation takes you. If we need you back in the Senate to break a tie, maybe I’ll send a Black Stallion spaceplane out to get you.”

“I’d love to get a ride in one, sir. Send one for me, and I’ll take it.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Vice President.” Gardner got to his feet and started to pace. “I know I’ve said I want to draw down our forces in Iraq over sixteen months, but it’s taken longer than I thought. This incident highlights the dangers our troops face out there every day, even when we’re not in direct contact with the enemy. It’s time to talk about drawing down our forces quicker and removing more forces. Thoughts?”

“The American people will certainly agree, Mr. President,” Secretary of State Barbeau said, “especially after news of this disaster gets out in the morning.”

“We’ve spoken about the possibility many times, sir,” National Security Adviser Carlyle said. “One mechanized infantry brigade in Baghdad on a twelve-month rotation; one training regiment on a six-month rotation; and we conduct frequent joint training exercises with units deployed from the States for no more than a month or two throughout the country. Day-to-day security and surveillance provided by private contractors, with infrequent special ops missions around the region as needed.”

“Sounds good to me,” the president said. “One soldier dies and it’s front-page news, but it takes at least six contractors to die before anyone notices. Let’s work up the details and get a plan drawn up pronto.” To his other advisers, he said, “Okay, I want an update on the Iraq attack at the seven a.m. staff briefing. Thank you, everyone.” Just as the group was departing the Oval Office, the president asked, “Secretary Barbeau, a word with you in the study?”

After the door was closed, the president fixed the former senator from Louisiana a bourbon and water. They toasted each other, then she lightly kissed him on the lips, being careful not to get too much lipstick on him—after all, the first lady was upstairs in the residence. “Thanks for recommending Phoenix, Stacy,” Gardner said. “Good choice—it’ll get him out of here for a change. He’s always underfoot.”

“I agree—he’s much too curious sometimes,” Barbeau said. She curled her lower lip in a pout. “But I wish you had consulted me first. I can think of a dozen better-qualified persons from our party that could’ve headed the team.”

“Walter briefed me that there were rumblings in Washington about keeping Phoenix too deep in the background and squashing his political future,” Gardner said.

“Well, that’s what typically happens to vice presidents.”

“I know, but I need to keep him on the ticket when I run for the second term, and I don’t want pissed-off party bosses encouraging him to leave so he can run himself,” Gardner said, fixing himself another coffee mug of Puerto Rican rum on ice. “This is a good high-profile assignment that’ll please his supporters, but it’s out of the country with not a lot of media around; it’ll show I’m serious about investigating the incident, but nothing will come of it, so if anyone gets hurt, it’ll be him; but more importantly, it’s a subject that will fade from public attention quickly because it involves dead American soldiers. Send your experts’ names to Phoenix and let’s see if he takes any of them.”

“Perhaps,” Barbeau said, her eyes glittering with intrigue, “the vice president will forget to duck or put on his