Rogue Forces

“I have my orders, American,” Evren said. “You will lay down your weapons and power off the robot and the drone and surrender. If you do not, we will attack.”

“Got an ID on that inbound chopper, Whack,” Charlie said. “Cobra gunship. More U.S. surplus. Can’t see his weapons but I’ll bet he’s loaded for bear.”

“Last chance, Captain,” Whack said. “Otherwise we start shooting. Move aside.”

“I will not. Surrender or be killed. In case you have not noticed, we have our own air support. It is not as advanced as your unmanned aircraft, but I assure you it is deadly. After it attacks, there will be nothing left of you for us to, as you say, take care of.”

“I’m going to have to take out that Cobra first, Charlie,” Whack said. “Watch my back—they’re bound to open fire when—”

Suddenly Charlie shouted, “Missile launch!”

“From where, Charlie?”

“Behind us!” Just then they heard a loud BANG! Whack and Charlie turned just in time to see a spiral of white smoke arc skyward and hit the Cobra. The helicopter started a hard right bank, seemed to wobble, then started a downward autorotational spin until it hit the ground in a hard but survivable crash.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Whack shouted on the Turkish command channel. On their discrete channel, he radioed, “I hope that was you, Jaffar.”

“Yes, Macomber,” Colonel Yusuf Jaffar responded on the discrete command channel. His northern battalion had hit the Cobra gunship with a Stinger shoulder-fired missile. “Sorry we are late, but I believe you are early. No matter. We are all here and ready to take on the Turks.”

“Hopefully no one will take on anyone here,” Whack said. He gave Jaffar the Turkish company’s frequency, then said on that channel, “The Cobra gunship was hit by an Iraqi antiaircraft missile, Captain Evren,” he said. “The Iraqi Nahla brigade is advancing on this position.” At that moment he could see the Turkish troops on the right start to fidget and rustle about; they had apparently gotten a visual on the northernmost battalion. “Captain Evren?”

After a somewhat long and uncomfortable pause: “Yes, American.”

“I don’t command the Iraqi army, and you did invade their country,” Whack said, “but my forces are not going to attack unless we are attacked first. I ask Colonel Jaffar not to attack as well. He is listening in. He is going to escort my team back to Nahla Air Base. I urge everyone to remain calm and keep your fingers off the trigger. Captain, if you would like to send a team out to inspect the downed Cobra, you may do so. Colonel Jaffar, would that be acceptable?”

“That would be acceptable,” Jaffar replied.

“Good. Captain, we’re on the move. Make way, and everyone be calm.”

It was quite an impressive sight. Off the main highway north of Nahla, the Tin Man and the CID robot, with their rail gun rifles now slung over their shoulders, led the Humvee towing the trailer full of parts and tools across the open field. The Turkish platoons were arrayed on either side of the highway in front of them. Coming in from the northwest was a full battalion of Iraqi infantry, and coming in on the highway northeast of the base was another Iraqi battalion. They all converged on the intersection of the two highways.

Wayne found Captain Evren at the side of the highway, stopped, and gave him a salute. The captain returned the salute, but kept his eyes on the spectacle of the ten-foot-tall CID unit striding up to him and rendering a salute as well. “My God…!”

“Charlie Turlock, Captain Evren,” Charlie said, holding out a large armored hand after lowering her salute. “How are you? Thanks for not shooting.”

Evren was stunned by the robot’s flexibility and lifelike movements. It took him several long amusing moments to take the robot’s hand and shake it. “It…it is a machine, but it moves like a man…!”

“A woman, if you don’t mind,” Charlie said.

Colonel Jaffar approached a few minutes later. Evren rendered a salute, but Jaffar didn’t return it. “So, you command this company, Turk?”

“Yes, sir. Captain Evren, Siyah Company, Forty-first Security—”

“I do not care who you are or what unit you are with, Turk,” Jaffar said. “All I care about is when you will return home and leave my country in peace.”

“That depends on when Iraq stops protecting murderous Kurds that drive bomb trucks into police buildings and kill innocent Turks, sir!”

“I am not here to listen to your political tirades, Turk! I need to know when you will move your goons out of my country!”

Whack glanced at Charlie. She didn’t have to move much, but a ten-foot-tall robot just raising its armored hands in surrender was plenty to get everyone’s attention. “Can’t we all just get along?” she said. She clasped her hands to her cheek. “Pretty please?” The sight of the big combat robot acting like a shy schoolgirl made even the gruff Colonel Jaffar chuckle, and hundreds of soldiers, Turks and Iraqis alike, joined in the laughter.