Rogue Forces

“I believe it was staged so few students would be in the barracks,” Patrick said. “They made sure the actual casualty count was low, and just inflated the figure for the media—enough for the president to declare a state of emergency.”

“If there is a president of Turkey,” Phoenix said. “The word from our ambassador in Ankara said that the president was ‘conferring with his political and military advisers.’ The foreign ministry won’t say any more, and the president’s call to the prime minister and president of Turkey haven’t been returned. He looked like a robot on television; he could have been under duress, even drugged.”

“Sir, before we waste any more time trying to figure out what the Turks are going to do next, our first priority is to get you out of here and back to Baghdad—preferably back to the States,” Wilhelm said. “Your Secret Service detail may have better options, but I recommend—”

“I’m not ready to leave yet, Colonel,” Phoenix said.

“Excuse me, sir?” Wilhelm asked incredulously. “We’re in the middle of a shooting war, sir. They just bombed this base! I can’t guarantee your safety—I don’t believe anyone can right now.”

“Colonel, I came here to meet with the Iraqis, Turks, Kurds, and Americans to try to resolve the PKK situation,” Phoenix said, “and I’m not leaving unless I’m ordered to do so by my boss.” Wilhelm was about to say something, but Phoenix stopped him with an up-raised hand. “Enough, Colonel. I need access to a telephone or radio to contact Washington, and I’ll need—”

At that moment a buzzer sounded, and Wilhelm leaped for the phone. “Go.”

“Multiple high-altitude aircraft approaching from the north, sir,” Mark Weatherly reported. “Lower speed, perhaps turboprops. We suspect they’re transports, possibly inserting paratroopers. The Iraqi army is reporting more comm jamming, too. We haven’t picked it up yet.”

“Continue to monitor and advise,” Wilhelm said. He thought for a moment, then added, “Advise all Warhammer units, weapons tight, self-defense only, and recall the Avengers back into the base.”

“Sir? Say again—”

“We’re not at war with the damned Turks, Weatherly,” Wilhelm interrupted. “Our intel says we’re already outnumbered by at least ten to one, so they can just roll right over us if they get pissed off enough. I’ll make it plain to them that they can buzz Iraq all they like, but they’re not going to take this base. Recall the Avengers and all other Warhammer units that are outside the wire. Once they’re back inside the fence, we go on full defensive posture, ready to repel all attackers. Got that?”

“Roger, sir.”

“Advise Jaffar and tell him that I want to meet with him and his company commanders about what to do if the Turks invade,” Wilhelm said. “They might feel like fighting, but we’re not here to get in the middle of a shooting war.” He looked at the vice president. “Still want to stay here, sir? It could get hairy.”

“Like I said, Colonel, I’m on a diplomatic mission,” Phoenix said. “Maybe when the Turks figure out I’m here, they’ll be less likely to start shooting. I might even be able to start cease-fire talks from here.”

“I’d feel better if you were at least down in Baghdad, sir,” Wilhelm said, “but you sound good and positive, and I could sure use some positive vibrations around here right now.”

The phone buzzed again, and Wilhelm picked it up.

“Weatherly here, sir. We got a problem: I phoned Jaffar’s office—he’s not here. No one in the IA senior staff is answering the phone.”

“Ask Mawloud or Jabburi where they went.”

“They’re not here either, sir. I tried Jabburi’s radio: no answer. He’s been away from the Tank since before the attacks started.”

Wilhelm looked out the windows of the conference room down to the main floor of the Tank; sure enough, the Turkish liaison officer’s console was vacant. “Find some hajii in charge and tell him to get up here on the double, Weatherly.” He hung up the phone. “Thompson?”

“Checking, Colonel.” Kris Thompson was already on his portable radio. “Security control says a convoy of troop buses and trucks left the base about an hour ago, Colonel,” he said a moment later. “Had men and equipment, proper authorizations signed by Jaffar.”

“No one thought to notify me of this?”

“The gate guards said it looked routine, and they had proper orders.”

“Have any of your guys seen any Iraqi soldiers anywhere?” Wilhelm thundered.

“Checking, Colonel.” But everyone could tell by watching Thompson’s incredulous expression what the answer was: “Colonel, the IA headquarters is vacant.”

“Vacant?”

“Just a couple soldiers busy breaking up hard drives and memory chips out of computers,” Thompson said. “Looks like they’ve bugged out. Want me to stop those guys and question them?”

Wilhelm ran a hand across his face, then shook his head. “Negative,” he said wearily. “It’s their base and their stuff. Take pictures and statements, then leave them be.” He practically threw the receiver back on its hook. “Un-friggin’-believable,” he muttered. “An entire Iraqi army brigade just up and walks out?”

“And right before an attack,” Thompson added. “Could they have gotten wind of it?”

“Doesn’t matter—they’re gone,” Wilhelm said. “But I can tell you one thing: they’re not getting back on this base unless I know about it first, that’s for damn sure. Tell your guys that.”

“Will do, Colonel.”

Wilhelm turned again to the vice president. “Sir, you need any more reasons to head on back to Baghdad?”

At that instant an alarm buzzer sounded. Wilhelm picked up the phone and turned toward the displays in the front of the Tank. “What is it now, Weatherly?”

“That nearest column of Turkish armored vehicles inbound from the north are ten klicks out,” Weatherly said. “They’ve spotted Piney Two-Three and are holding position.”

Wilhelm ran as fast as he could downstairs to his console, with the others following. The video feed from the Avenger antiaircraft unit showed a dark green armored vehicle, flying a large red flag with a white crescent. Its machine guns were raised. The XC-57’s laser radar image showed the other vehicles in line behind it. “Two-Three, this is Alpha, weapons tight, road-march position.”

“Copy, Warhammer, we’re in road march already,” the Avenger vehicle commander replied, verifying that his weapons were safe and the barrels of his Stinger missiles and twenty-millimeter Gatling gun were aimed skyward, not at the Turks.

“Can you back up or turn around?”

“Affirm to both.”

“Very slowly, back up, turn around, and then head back to the base at normal speed,” Wilhelm ordered. “Keep your barrels aimed away from them. I don’t think they’re going to bother you.”

“Hope you’re right, Alpha. Two-Three copies all, on the move.”

It was a tense few minutes. Since the camera on board the Avenger only aimed forward they lost the video feed, so they couldn’t see if the Turkish APC crews were readying any antitank weapons. But the XC-57 image showed the Turkish vehicles holding position as the Avenger turned around, and then following it from a distance of about a hundred yards as it headed back to the base.

“Here they come,” Wilhelm said, removing his headset and throwing it on the desk in front of him. “Mr. Vice President, at the risk of stating the obvious, you’ll be our guest for the near future, courtesy of the Republic of Turkey.”

“Well handled, Colonel,” Ken Phoenix said. “The Turks know they can blast us up, but they’re holding back. If we struck back, they’d have attacked for sure.”

“We’re allies, right?” Wilhelm said sarcastically. “Somehow I almost forgot that. Besides, it’s an easy call not to hit back if you have almost nothing to hit back with.” He turned to Kris Thompson. “Thompson, cancel the repel- forces order, but shut down the base, get everyone up, and man the gates and perimeter. I want a strong presence, but minimal visible weapons. No one fires unless fired upon. Weatherly, monitor the other inbound Avengers, let them know we have visitors, weapons tight and raised. I think the Turks will let them through.”