“No come here! No stay!” the soldier shouted. “
“No, it’s not dangerous at all,” Jon said. “You see, that’s
The first soldier waved his arms in front of his face in a crossing motion while the second picked up his rifle, not pointing it but making it visible to all. “No entry,” the first said sternly. “Prohibited.”
“You can’t prohibit me from examining my own plane,” Jon said. “I have permission from the Iraqi government. You guys aren’t even Iraqi. What right do you have to stop me?”
“No entry,” the first soldier said. “Go away. Go back.” He pulled out his portable radio and began speaking while the second soldier raised his rifle to port arms in an obvious threatening gesture. When the first soldier finished radioing his report, he waved his hands as if trying to shoo away a youngster, shouting, “Go now.
“I’m not leaving without looking at my plane…what
“
Suddenly the rifle was snatched out of his hands in the blink of an eye. The soldier turned…and saw a person wearing a head-to-toe suit of dark gray, an eyeless helmet right out of a science-fiction comic book, a framework of thin flexible tubules all across its skin, and thick gauntlets and boots. “
“Don’t be rude,” the figure said in electronically synthesized Turkish. “No weapons”—he reached out with incredible quickness and snatched the portable transceiver away from the second soldier—“and no radios. I’ll give them back only if you show me you can behave.” The Turks backed away, then started to run when they realized they weren’t going to be captured.
“C’mon, guys, let’s go,” Jon said, trotting toward the stricken XC-57. “See, I told you it wouldn’t so bad.”
“Rascal One, this is Genesis,” Patrick McLanahan radioed to Wayne Macomber. “You’ve got a couple vehicles headed your way, about ten minutes out.” Patrick had launched a small unmanned attack aircraft called an AGM- 177 Wolverine, which had been brought in via the 767 freighter. It resembled a cross between a cruise missile and a surfboard. It was normally air-launched, but had the ability to be fired from a truck-mounted catapult. The Wolverine carried infrared and millimeter-wave imaging and targeting sensors so it could autonomously locate, attack, and reattack targets programmed for it. It had three internal weapons bays for attacks on different types of targets, and it could also attack a fourth target by flying into it kamikaze style. “Radar has a helicopter about ten minutes to the east,” he added. “We don’t know if it’s headed this way or just on patrol, but it’s close.”
“Copy, Genesis,” Macomber replied. He waved at the Humvees to move in. “C’mon, we’ve got company, get in there and help the egghead,” he ordered. “I want to be out of here ASAP.” The Humvees rolled in, and technicians began unloading power tools to start opening the plane up.
“I’ll be here all day at least, probably for the next two days,” Jon Masters radioed.
“Masters, I’m not here to cart the entire aircraft back to the base,” Macomber radioed back. “Grab any classified stuff and only the most essential black boxes that are intact, and let’s get out of here. We’re out in the open with three hundred Turkish soldiers coming for us and another fifty thousand in the area.” That reminder seemed to make everyone work a little quicker.
“That helicopter is definitely coming your way,” Patrick radioed. “About seven minutes out. The ground forces have increased in size—looks like six vehicles now, four troop carriers and two armored vehicles. How’s the plane look?”
“Masters says it doesn’t look that bad,” Whack said. “I think he’d say that if it was nothing but a smoking hole in the ground.”
“You’re right about that. Okay, they’re setting up roadblocks north and south on the highway, and all six vehicles are headed your way.”
“Copy.”
“No fighting unless it’s absolutely necessary, Rascal. We’re all still friends, remember.”
“I know. I’ve been extremely cordial and nice so far.”
“They should be in sight on the highway now.”
Wayne turned and saw the trucks unloading a total of about twenty troops with rifles, the armored vehicles on guard flanking the trucks and off-loading their own dismounts, and the same Captain Evren Jon spoke with at the front gate, scanning them with binoculars. “In sight. I see infantry weapons only so far. Rascal, this is One, we’ve got lookylous, stand by.” A few minutes later, Whack saw several soldiers and Captain Evren board their armored personnel carriers and slowly drive toward them. “Here they come.”
Evren’s APC stopped about thirty yards in front of Whack, and five soldiers dismounted, fanned out about six yards apart from one another, and lay prone on the ground with rifles raised. Whack noticed that the gunner’s cupola atop the APC was manned and the barrel of the 12.5-millimeter machine gun aimed right at him; there was also a Russian-made AT-3 “Sagger” antitank missile mounted on its launch rail, aimed at one of the Humvees. The second APC moved away, heading around Whack toward the XC-57.
“You!” Evren shouted in English. “Raise your hands and turn around!”
“
“You are not permitted access to the plane.”
“We have permission from the Iraqi government and the plane’s owner,” Whack said. “This is a legal salvage operation. Leave us alone.”
“I repeat, raise your hands and turn around, or we will open fire.”
“I am an American, I’m not armed, and I have permission from the Iraqi government. You’re a Turkish soldier. I don’t take orders from you.”
Now Evren seemed to be confused. He pulled out his portable transceiver and spoke into it. “He’s obviously reached the limit of his rules of engagement,” Whack said over the command network. “Here’s where it’ll start getting interesting. Keep an eye on the second APC; it’s flanking me and heading your way.”
“Got it in sight, One,” came the reply from Charlie Turlock.
“The helicopter is about five minutes out, Rascal,” Patrick said.
“Copy. Let’s hope it’s just the TV news.” Whack thought for a moment. “I’m starting to get nervous about that machine gun and Sagger missile on this APC, guys,” he said. “Everyone, find some cover away from the Humvees.” Through his translator, he said, “Point your weapons away right now!”
“You will surrender immediately or we will open fire!” Evren shouted in return.
“I’m warning you, point your weapons away and leave us alone, or I’m going to rough you up,” Whack said. “I don’t care about this NATO ally shit—lower your weapons and go away or you’re all going to wake up in the hospital.”
Through the sensitive microphones built into the Tin Man suit, Whack heard Evren say the word
“He was only trying to wound you,” Charlie said. “Take it easy, Whack.”
Evren was obviously startled to see the figure still standing, even though he’d clearly seen all rounds hit. “One more warning, bub,” Whack shouted in Turkish. “If you don’t drop your weapons, I’m going to play a little tune on your skull with my fists.”
He heard Evren say, “
With a blast of supercompressed air, Whack launched himself through the air and landed atop the armored vehicle. The gunner tried to follow him as he sailed at him, nearly knocking himself out of the cupola. After Whack landed, he bent the barrel of the machine gun until the weapon exploded from the pressure of unexpelled gases. But
