and to be strong and brave. Our nation has been through this before, and we have always emerged stronger and wiser. We shall do so again. Thank you.”
Hirsiz threw his statement pages away as Prime Minister Ays?e Akas came up to him. “That’s the hardest speech I’ve ever given,” Hirsiz said.
“I hoped you would change your mind, Kurzat,” she said. “It’s not too late, even now.”
“I have to do this, Ays?e,” Hirsiz said. “It’s far too late to change course now.”
“No, it’s not. Let me help you do it. Please.” An aide passed a note to Akas. “Perhaps this will help: the American embassy is requesting a high-level meeting in Irbil. The vice president, Phoenix, is in Baghdad and wants to attend, along with the secretary of state.”
“Impossible,” Hirsiz said. “We can’t stop this now.” He thought for a moment. “We can’t meet with them: the country is under a state of emergency. We can’t guarantee the safety of the president or of our ministers in Iraq.”
“But if you did attend, I’m sure they’ll offer substantial military, technical, and economic assistance if they meet with us—they rarely come empty-handed,” Akas said. “The American ambassador has already sent a message to the foreign ministry about compensation for the Patriot missile launches.”
“Compensation? For what? What did they say?”
“The ambassador, speaking on behalf of Secretary of State Barbeau, said an unarmed reconnaissance plane run by a private firm contracted to provide surveillance of the northern Iraq border area inadvertently emitted what they called ‘accidental electronic interference’ that caused us to fire those Patriot missiles. The ambassador was very apologetic and said he was authorized to offer substantial compensation or replacement of the missiles, and also offered assistance in providing information on any unknown vehicles or persons crossing the border into Turkey.” Hirsiz nodded. “This is a great opportunity, Kurzat. You can have the meeting, then cancel the state of emergency after the American vice president makes an agreement. You save face, and there’s no war.”
“Saved by the Americans again, eh, Ays?e?” Hirsiz said emotionlessly. “You’re so sure they’ll want to help?” He motioned to an aide, who handed him a secure cellular telephone. “The timetable’s been moved up, General,” he said after speed-dialing a number. “Get your forces moving and the planes in the air,
“Looks like the wheels are getting ready to come off the wagon up in Turkey, doesn’t it?” Kris Thompson said. He was sitting at the security director’s console in the Tank, watching news reports of the security crackdowns taking place in the Republic of Turkey on one of the big screens at the front of the Tank that was always tuned to an American all-news channel. The reports showed police and military forces clashing with protesters in the streets of Istanbul and Ankara. “Hirsiz is crazy. A state of emergency? Sounds like a military coup to me. I wonder if he’s still in charge.”
“Keep the chatter down, Thompson,” Jack Wilhelm said, sitting at his console nearby. “We can all see what’s going on. Put Sensor Eight up front and zoom ten-X.” He studied an image of three delivery trucks driving down a road, the cargo sections swaying noticeably in the turns. “They’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say? Zoom fifteen-X, get a description, pass it along to the IA. Who do they have in the area, Major Jabburi?” The Turkish liaison officer spread out his charts and logbooks, then picked up his telephone. “C’mon, Major, we don’t have all damned day.”
“There is a border patrol unit heading in the opposite direction, about ten miles away, sir,” Major Hamid Jabburi, the Turkish army deputy liaison officer, responded, after a long delay. “They have been notified to investigate the vehicles. They requested we continue monitoring and advise if they turn.”
“Of course—what else do we have to do around here except cater to the IA?” Wilhelm grumbled. “A monkey can do this job.” At that moment Patrick McLanahan walked up to the brigade commander. “Speak of the devil. I gotta admit, General, your pregnant stealth bomber is killer. We’re getting the same amount of looks all over the sector with a fourth of the airframes; we’re saving network bandwidth, fuel, and personnel; and the ramp and the airspace are less congested.”
“Thanks, Colonel. I’ll pass that along to Jon and his engineers.”
“You do that.” Wilhelm motioned to the television monitor. “So, have you spoken with the veep about the shit happening in Turkey?”
“He’s on his way to Irbil for a meeting with Iraqi, Kurdish, and maybe Turkish leaders,” Patrick said. “He said he’d get an update from us when he landed.”
“Still think Turkey will invade?”
“Yes. More than ever now. If Hirsiz doesn’t have support for war, the only legal way he can start one is by dissolving the National Assembly and ordering it himself.”
“I think that’s crazy, General,” Wilhelm said. “The Zakhu attack was a big screwup, that’s all. The military is in the field because the generals want to show who’s boss and to force the Kurds, Iraqis, and Americans to the bargaining table.”
“I hope you’re right, Colonel,” Patrick said. “But they’ve got a big force out there, and it’s getting bigger every hour.”
“It’s a show of force, that’s all,” Wilhelm insisted.
“We’ll see.”
“Let’s say they do invade. How far do you think they’ll go?”
“Hopefully they might just take Dahuk province and then stop,” Patrick said. “But with this force they’re rushing to the border, they might take Irbil International, besiege the city and half of Irbil province, and force the Kurdish government to flee. After that, they might march all the way to Kirkuk. They could say it’s to protect the KTC pipeline from Kurdish insurgents.”
“‘Besiege’—listen to you, General,” Wilhelm said, chuckling and shaking his head. “Have you ever
“Ever heard of a place called Jakutsk, Colonel?” Patrick asked.
Wilhelm’s jaw dropped, first in shock—at himself—and then in shame. “Oh…oh, shit, General, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He had certainly heard of Jakutsk, the third largest city in Russian Siberia…
…and the location of a large air base that was used as a forward tanker base to refuel Russian long-range bombers involved in the American holocaust—the nuclear attack on the United States that killed thirty thousand persons, injured almost a hundred thousand, and destroyed almost all of America’s long-range manned bombers and land-based intercontinental ballistic missiles, just six years earlier.
Patrick McLanahan had devised a plan to strike back at Russia’s land-based nuclear missiles by landing a Tin Man and Cybernetic Infantry Device commando team into Jakutsk, capturing the base, then using it to stage American bombers on precision air raids throughout Russia. The Russian president Anatoliy Gryzlov retaliated by attacking his own air base…with nuclear-tipped cruise missiles. Although Patrick’s defenses stopped most of the cruise missiles and allowed most of Patrick’s bomber and tanker force to escape, thousands of Russians and all but a handful of the American ground team members were incinerated.
“When did you acquire this habit of talking first and thinking second, Colonel?” Patrick asked. “Is it just being in Iraq, or have you been working on the technique for a long time now?”
“I said I’m sorry, General,” Wilhelm said irritably—again, aimed directly at himself. “I forget who I’m talking to. And I
“It’s forgotten, Colonel.” Patrick looked at the sector composite map, then at the news coverage of the rioting around Turkey. “And you made your point: if the Turks head to Irbil and Kirkuk, they won’t ‘besiege’ them—they’ll level them, and kill hundreds of thousands of people as they do.”
“Roger that, sir,” Wilhelm said. “The final solution to their Kurdish problem.” The intercom beeped, and Wilhelm touched his mike button: “Go…copy that…roger, I’ll tell him. Warhammer out. Listen up, ladies and gents.
