Rogue Forces

“You what? Bombed their headquarters?” Akas shouted. “You are insane, both of you. Is Phoenix dead?”

“No, he was not in the building at the time,” Hirsiz said.

“Lucky for you!”

“I did not start shooting at Iraqis and Americans until they started shooting at Turks!” Hirsiz shouted. “I did not start this war! The PKK murders innocent men, women, and children, and no one says a word to us. Well, they will talk to us now, won’t they? They will scream and complain and threaten me! I don’t care! I am not going to stop until Iraq stops harboring the PKK and promises to help eradicate them. Maybe with a few dead Americans in Iraq by our hands, they will talk to us about destroying the PKK.”

Akas looked at Hirsiz as if studying an oil painting or an animal in the zoo, trying to find some hidden understanding or meaning in what she saw. All she could discern was hatred. He didn’t even look back at her. “How many Americans were killed in the base, Minister?”

“Twenty or twenty-five, I don’t remember; about a hundred injured,” Cizek replied.

“My God…”

“Ays?e, maybe it is a good idea for you to meet with Phoenix and talk with Gardner,” Cizek said. Hirsiz turned, his eyes wide with surprise and his jaw set in anger. Cizek held up a hand. “Kurzat, I’m afraid the Americans will retaliate—maybe not militarily, not right away, but with every other means at their disposal. If we don’t start negotiating with them, they’re more likely to hit back. Call a cease-fire, have our forces hold in position, and let Ays?e go to Baghdad. Meanwhile we’ll resupply our forces, bring back our wounded and dead, and start collecting intelligence on the whereabouts of the PKK and their supporters. We have to be sure we don’t lose support from our allies, but we don’t have to give up everything we’ve gained.”

Hirsiz’s expression was a mixture of rage and confusion, and his head snapped back at his two advisers as if it were out of control. “End? End now? Are we any closer to destroying the PKK than we were five thousand lives ago? If we don’t follow through with this, the five thousand soldiers who have lost their lives will have died for nothing.”

“I think we have shown the world our crisis, Kurzat,” Akas said. “You have also shown the world, and especially the PKK and their Kurdish supporters, that Turkey can and will lash out to protect its people and interests. But if you let the situation spin out of control, the world will simply think you’re insane. You don’t want that to happen.”

Hirsiz studied both of his advisers. Akas could see the president looking more and more alone by the second. He returned to his desk and sat down heavily, staring through the large picture window. The sun was just coming up, and it looked like it was going to be a cold, drizzly day, Akas thought, which certainly must make Hirsiz feel even more alone.

“All I tried to do was protect the Turkish people,” he said softly. “All I wanted to do was stop the murdering.”

“We will, Kurzat,” Akas said. “We’ll do it together—your cabinet, the military, the Americans, and the Iraqis. We’ll get everyone involved. You don’t have to do it alone.”

Hirsiz closed his eyes, then nodded. “Call an immediate cease-fire, Hasan,” he said. “We have the phased withdrawal plan already drawn up: execute phases one and two.”

The minister of national defense’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Phase two?” he asked. “But, sir, that pulls troops all the way back to the border. Are you sure you want to pull back that much? I recommend we—”

“Ays?e, you may notify the foreign minister that we wish to meet with the Americans and Iraqis right away to negotiate international inspectors and peacekeepers to monitor the border,” Hirsiz went on. “You may also notify the speaker of the National Assembly that, pending a peaceful and successful withdrawal from Iraq, I will cancel the state of emergency and reseat the parliament.”

Ays?e Akas walked over to Hirsiz and hugged him. “You’ve made the right choice, Kurzat,” she said. “I’ll get to work right away.” She gave Cizek a smile and hurried out of the president’s office.

Hirsiz stood by his desk and looked out the window for a long moment; then he turned and was surprised to see his minister of national defense still in his office. “Hasan?”

“What are you doing, Kurzat?” Cizek asked. “A cease-fire: fine.

That will give us time to rearm, reinforce, and regroup. But a pullback all the way to the border, before we’ve had a chance to set up a buffer zone and eradicate the PKK?”

“I’m tired, Hasan,” Hirsiz said wearily. “We’ve lost too many men…”

“The soldiers died defending their country, Mr. President!” Cizek said. “If you pull back before the operation is finished, they will have died for nothing! You said so yourself!”

“We will have other opportunities, Hasan. We have the world’s attention now. They’ll know we’re serious when it comes to dealing with the PKK. Now give the orders.”

Cizek appeared as if he was going to continue to argue, but instead gave a curt nod and walked out.

ALLIED AIR BASE NAHLA, IRAQ

A SHORT TIME LATER

“I suppose it could’ve been a lot worse for us,” Colonel Jack Wilhelm said. He was once again standing in their makeshift morgue in the large aircraft hangar, overseeing the preparation of the remains of the soldiers killed in action the night before. “Twenty-one soldiers killed in the Triple-C, including my ops officer, plus another thirty-two in action against the Turks, along with over two hundred injured, two dozen critical.” He turned to Patrick McLanahan. “Sorry about Martinez, General. I heard he died a little while ago.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Your guys and your gadgets did great, General. You really came through.”

“Not for our client, unfortunately,” Patrick said. “The Iraqis lost over two hundred and fifty.”

“But Jaffar and his men fought like wildcats,” Wilhelm said. “I always thought the guy was all bluff and bluster. He turned out to be a good field commander and a hard charger.” His radio beeped, and he listened in his earpiece, responded, and signed off. “The Turkish prime minister has announced a cease-fire and said that Turkish troops are pulling back to the border,” he said. “It looks like it’s over. What in hell were the Turks thinking? Why did they start this?”

“Frustration, anger, vengeance: dozens of reasons,” Patrick said. “Turkey is one of those countries that just doesn’t get any respect. They’re not European, not Asian, not the Caucasus, not Middle Eastern; they’re Muslim but secular. They control major land and sea routes, have one of the largest economies and armies in the world, powerful enough to have a seat on the United Nations Security Council, but they still aren’t allowed into the European Union and they’re treated like the red-haired stepchild in NATO. I think I’d be frustrated, too.”

“They may deserve respect, but they also deserve to get their butts kicked,” Wilhelm said. “So, I assume your contract is over…or is it? Maybe the Iraqis need you more than ever now?”

“We’ll stay for now,” Patrick said. “I’ll recommend we monitor the Turkish cease-fire and pullback, and we’ll probably be around awhile longer until the Iraqis get their own surveillance force built up. They have a small fleet of Cessna Caravans that have been modified for ground surveillance and communications relay, and there’s talk of them leasing some UAVs.”

“So you may be out of a job soon?”

“I think so.” Patrick took a deep breath, one so deep that Wilhelm noticed. “This is a good job and a good bunch of guys and girls, but I’ve been away from home too long.”

“To tell you the truth, it felt good to get out of the Tank and lead a bunch of troops into battle again,” Wilhelm said. “I’ve been watching my guys do it on video screens and computer monitors for far too long.” He gave McLanahan a slight smile. “But it is a young man’s game, right, General?”

“I didn’t say that.” Patrick nodded to the tables of body bags once again lined up in the hangar. “But I’ve been around this too long.”

“You flyboys see war completely different from the soldiers on the ground,” Wilhelm said. “To you, combat is computers and satellites and UAVs.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I know you’ve done a lot and seen a lot, General, but this is different,” Wilhelm went on. “You manage systems and sensors and machines. We manage fighting men. I don’t see dead men and women here, General—I see soldiers that put on a uniform, picked up a rifle, followed me, and who fell in battle. I’m not sad for them. I’m