“Our unit there reports the Americans launched an unmanned combat aircraft to support their detail examining the plane,” Cizek said. “The American private security chief, McLanahan, explained it was a long-range loitering aircraft capable of releasing multiple types of precision and area munitions. It was apparently brought in on that Boeing 767 freighter that evaded our interceptors.”
“McLanahan. Yes,” Cizek said. “He is the wild card in all of this. Remember he commanded a very advanced bomber unit in the United States Air Force, and he was known for quite daring and successful operations—many of which were apparently done without official sanction, if we can believe the American media pundits. Now apparently he works for the Iraqis. I would guess if he says he has a cruise missile, he does, and probably more than one. The question is: As a tool of the Iraqis now, would he use it against us?”
“Hopefully we’ll never find out,” Cizek said. “I would have liked to get a look at that reconnaissance aircraft, though. The American secretary of state said our plane was disabled by a laser self-defense system, not a radiation weapon. That had to be a powerful laser. If we could get a peek at that system and cross-engineer it, we’d be decades ahead of most European and all of the Middle Eastern armies.”
“I agree,” Hirsiz said. “Have another try at bringing that plane back to Turkey. Fly as many troops as you can in tonight by helicopter. Send the entire First Division in if you have to. They don’t seem to be having any trouble in their area of responsibility; it’s the Kurdish regions that have me concerned, not the Arab ones.”
“But what about the Iraqi Nahla brigade?”
“Let’s see if they want to risk a fight over the American plane,” Hirsiz said. “I think they might think twice. We may have to deal with the American robot and armored commando, but how many of those things could they have? Let’s find out. I think the plane and its technology will be worth it.”
“We have more information about the robot and the armored commando; we won’t be as surprised as our smaller unit was, and we’ll be on the lookout for their supposed unmanned attack plane,” Cizek said. An aide hurried in with a message and handed it to him. “I was able to get some details about the plane, the XC-57,” he said as he read. “It was in a next-generation bomber competition but was not selected, so it was converted into a…
“What?”
“Third Brigade shelled Irbil,” Cizek said, dumbfounded. Hirsiz did not react. “General Ozek, in personal charge of a mortar battalion, moved to the outskirts of Irbil less than a mile from the Kurdistan parliamentary building and started firing mortars into the city,” he went on. “He even fired shells into the Citadel, the ancient city center. For the targets he couldn’t reach with mortars, he called in an AC-130 gunship and destroyed numerous targets in the south of the city with heavy cannon fire from above!”
Instead of anger or surprise, Hirsiz smiled and sat back in his seat. “Well well, it seems our skeleton-faced berserker has made the decision to strike at Irbil for us,” he said.
“But how—” Cizek stopped, the concern spreading across his face. “The proposed target list the intelligence directorate drew up…?”
“I gave it to Ozek,” Hirsiz said. “He did exactly what I was hoping he’d do.” The look of concern on Cizek’s face turned into one of sheer disbelief. “The Security Council was undecided if we should escalate the conflict by attacking the capital of the Kurdistan Regional Government; Ozek has done it for us.”
“This is a serious matter, sir,” Cizek said. “Irbil is a city of a million people. Even with precision firepower— which mortars are definitely
“A few civilian casualties will only help us,” Hirsiz said. “This battle has been too easy, too sterile. The PKK and the Iraqi army run and hides, the
Cizek called for a more precise list of targets struck and received them a few minutes later. “A Kurdish bank…a small shopping center…some shops inside the Citadel…a memorial park…one mortar even landed near the parliament building in a parking lot, close enough to break some windows—”
“That was on the list—the parking space of a pro-PKK politician,” Hirsiz said. “He followed the list to the letter. The Citadel hit…that was his idea, but he got the idea from that list. I’m sure the shop was owned by the same businessman that owned the other shops in the city on the list. Ozek is scary and a little crazy, but he’s a fast learner.”
“The Security Council was undecided on attacking Irbil because we wanted to see the reaction of the world first as the operation progressed,” Cizek said. “Up until now, the reaction has been very quiet…
“I didn’t order anything, Hasan,” Hirsiz said. The minister of national defense looked unconvinced. “Don’t believe me if you wish, but I did not order Ozek to shell Irbil. I gave him the list, that’s all. But I knew he would not disappoint.” He looked at his watch. “I suppose I should call Washington and explain things to them.”
“You’re going to tell them a rogue general did those attacks?”
“I’m going to tell them exactly what happened: we had discussed attacking businesses and organizations known to be friendly to the PKK, and one of our division commanders took it upon himself to do just that.” Hirsiz waved a hand at Cizek’s disbelieving expression and lit a cigarette. “Besides, you and the rest of the council have deniability now as well. If it doesn’t bring the Americans and the Iraqis around to helping us, you can blame it all on Ozek and me.” He turned serious once more. “Make sure Ozek pulls back to the airport. If we give him too much encouragement, he’s likely to try to take the entire city.”
“Yes, sir,” Cizek said. “And we will get Second Division moving on that American aircraft.”
“Very good.” Hirsiz picked up a telephone. “I’ll call Gardner and set the stage with him, and let him vent about the attack on Irbil.”
“Just got off the phone with the president,” Vice President Ken Phoenix said as he entered the Tank. Colonel Jack Wilhelm was at his console in the front of the senior staff area, but beside him—in the real commander’s chair—was Colonel Yusuf Jaffar. The Tank was very crowded, because both an American and an Iraqi now manned every combat staff console in the room. Also in the room were Patrick McLanahan, Wayne Macomber, and Jon Masters. “He spoke with President Hirsiz of Turkey and President Rashid of Iraq.
“First of all, he wanted me to give you a ‘job well done’ for your actions today. He said that although he didn’t feel the risk was worth it, he commends all of you for exercising restraint and courage. It was an explosive situation and you handled it well.”
“I spoke with President Rashid as well,” Jaffar said, “and he wished me to pass along similar thoughts to all.”
“Thank you, Colonel. However, we still have a situation. Turkey wants access to the wreckage of the XC-57 to gather evidence for a criminal trial against Scion Aviation International. They are asking permission for experts to examine the aircraft, including the stuff you removed from the plane, Dr. Masters.”
“That stuff is classified and proprietary, Mr. Vice President,” Jon said. “Letting the Turks examine it gives them a chance to reverse-engineer it. That’s the reason we risked our lives yanking that stuff out of there! They don’t care about a trial—they just want my technology. No way I’m letting the Turks get their grubby paws on it!”
“You might not have any choice, Dr. Masters,” Phoenix said. “Scion was a U.S. government contractor at the time of the attack. The government may be entitled to direct you to turn the equipment over.”
“I’m not a lawyer, sir, and I don’t particularly like them, but I know armies of them,” Jon said. “I’ll let them handle it.”
“I’m more concerned about what the Turks will do, Mr. Vice President,” Patrick said.
“I’m sure they’ll go to the World Court or to NATO, possibly to the International Admiralty Court, file the criminal charges, and try to compel you to—”
“No, sir, I don’t mean a legal proceeding. I mean, what will the Turkish army do?”
“What do you mean?”
