Rogue Forces

Hirsiz sighed. “Very well. Tell my wife I’ll be a little late.” He started to straighten up the papers on his desk, prioritizing the next day’s activities, when he heard the door to his office open. “Come on in, gentlemen,” he said distractedly as he worked, “but can we make this quick? I promised my wife I’d—”

When he looked up, he saw Minister of National Defense Hasan Cizek and military chief of staff General Abdullah Guzlev standing in the middle of the office, waiting patiently for him—and both men were dressed in green camouflage battle-dress uniforms and glossy paratrooper boots, and both wore American-made M1911 .45-caliber sidearms in polished black leather holsters.

“What in hell is going on here?” Hirsiz asked incredulously. “Why are you in a military uniform, Hasan, and why are you carrying weapons in the Pink Palace?”

“Good evening, Kurzat,” Cizek said. He motioned over his right shoulder, and several members of the Presidential Guard rushed in, with Hirsiz’s outer office secretary bound in plastic handcuffs. The guards grabbed Hirsiz and bound his wrists in plastic handcuffs as well.

“What in hell is this?” Hirsiz shouted. “What are you doing? I am the president of the Republic of Turkey!”

“You are no longer president of Turkey, Kurzat,” Cizek said. “I met with General Guzlev, the chiefs of staff, and the Ministry of the Interior, and we have decided that you are not competent to give orders anymore. You said so yourself, Kurzat: you’re tired. Well, your weariness is a danger to the brave men and women in the field who are risking their lives on the president’s word. We feel you cannot be trusted to give any more orders under a state of emergency. Prime Minister Akas, of course, is in no better shape. So we have decided to take over for you.”

“What? What are you saying? What in hell are you doing?”

“You know what’s happening here, Hirsiz,” Cizek said. “The only question is, what will you do? Will you play the befuddled and embattled president, or will you take responsibility for your failures and do the responsible thing?”

“What on earth are you talking about? You…you are going to stage a coup d’état?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cizek said. “Under a state of emergency, you can appoint anyone to be commander in chief of the armed forces. You appoint me and get some well-deserved rest for a few years until you are well enough to resume your duties; I rescind the order for the stage two pullback, and we consolidate our gains in Iraq.”

“This is insanity! I will not comply! I will never relinquish my office! I am the president of Turkey! I was elected by the Grand National Assembly…!”

“You swore an oath to protect the people of Turkey, but instead you stand by and do nothing but moan and drool while thousands of soldiers are killed by the Iraqis and Americans,” Cizek shouted. “I will stand for it no longer. The only proper response is a military one, not a political one, and so the army must be free to end this crisis. You are afraid to unleash the army and the Jandarma: I am not. Which will it be, Mr. President? Take your orders from me, and you and your family will be allowed to stay in a very comfortable residence in Tarsus or maybe even Dipkarpaz, under very careful security and seclusion—”

“As your puppet?”

“As president of the republic, Hirsiz, taking sound and urgent advice from your military advisers to end the attacks against our country,” Cizek said. “If you do not agree to this, you will suffer a terrible heart attack, and we will remove you and your family from Ankara forever.”

“You cannot do this!” Hirsiz protested. “I have done nothing wrong! You have no authority…!”

“I swore an oath to protect this country, Hirsiz,” Cizek shouted, “and I will not sit idly by while you erase all the gains our brave soldiers have made for this country. You leave me absolutely no choice!”

Hirsiz hesitated again, and Guzlev pulled out his .45 and pointed it at the president. “I told you he wouldn’t do it, Hasan…!” he said.

Hirsiz’s eyes bulged, his arms and shoulders went limp, and his knees wobbled—it was as if all of the fluids in his body left him. “No, please,” he whimpered. “I don’t want to die. Tell me what to do.”

“Good call, Hirsiz,” Cizek threw some papers on the desk. “Sign these papers.” Hirsiz signed them without reading them or even raising his head except to find the signature line. “We will escort you to the national communications center, where you will personally address the people of the republic.” A sheaf of papers was placed in his hands. “Here is what you will say. It is important for you to address the people of Turkey as soon as possible.”

“When can I see my wife, my family…?”

“Business first, Hirsiz,” Cizek said. He nodded to an officer of the Presidential Guard. “Take him away.” Hirsiz mumbled something as he and his aide were led out of the office under heavy military guard.