Rogue Forces

Back at the Tank, Patrick and Jon were watching the action via feeds from the Strykers and unmanned aircraft…except Patrick was not looking at the raid on the suspected tunnel entrance, but farther north along the Iraq-Turkey border. The view from the MQ-9 Reaper’s imaging infrared scanner showed rolling hills punctuated by tall rocky crags and deep forested valleys.

“Sorry, sir, but you’re not going to get too much contrast or detail at this looking angle,” Margaret Harrison, the regiment’s Reaper liaison officer, said to him over the intercom. “Reapers are meant to look down at a fairly steep angle, not across to the horizon.”

“Copy,” Patrick responded. “Just a few more seconds.” He touched another key on his keyboard and spoke: “Mr. Bexar?”

“Bexar here,” the privately contracted intelligence officer replied.

“This is McLanahan.”

“How are you, General? Are you authorized to be on the net now?”

“Mr. Thompson said it was okay. I have a question.”

“I don’t personally know your security clearance, General,” Bexar said. “I assume you have a ‘top secret’ or else you couldn’t have sat in on the briefing, but until I verify, I’ll have to refrain from answering any questions that might compromise operational security.”

“Understood. You briefed that the Turks have five thousand troops in the area immediately adjacent to the regiment’s area of responsibility?”

“Yes, sir. The equivalent of two mechanized infantry brigades, one each in Sirnak and Hakkari provinces, plus three Jandarma battalions.”

“That’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“Considering recent events, I don’t think so,” Bexar said. “They’ve roughly tried to mirror American and Iraqi force levels over the past couple years. The Jandarma have maintained many more forces in southeast Turkey in the past depending on PKK activity levels. The problem is, we don’t always get regular updates on Jandarma unit movements.”

“Why is that?”

“The Turkish Ministry of the Interior is pretty tight-lipped—they’re not obligated by NATO treaty to share information like the Ministry of Defense is.”

“But the mechanized infantry movement in the area is a relatively new development?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting. But my question is, Mr. Bexar: Where are they?”

“Where are who?”

“Where are all these Turkish forces? A mechanized infantry brigade is pretty hard to hide.”

“Well, I suppose…” The question had obviously taken the intelligence man by surprise. “They…could be anywhere, General. My guess is they’re in garrisons in the provincial capitals. As for the Jandarma, they can evade our surveillance easily in this terrain.”

“Kelly Two-Two has been looking at the frontier for the past few minutes and I haven’t seen any indications of any vehicles whatsoever,” Patrick said. “And according to my charts, Two-Two is looking right at the town of Uludere, correct?”

“Stand by.” A moment later, after checking the telemetry readouts from the Reaper’s imaging infrared sensor: “Yes, General, you’re right.”

“We’re looking at the town, but I don’t see any lights or even any evidence of life out there. Am I missing something?”

There was a slight pause; then: “General, why are you asking about Turkey? The Turks aren’t involved in this operation.”

Yeah, Patrick thought, why am I looking at Turkey? “Just curious, I guess,” he finally responded. “I’ll let you get back to work. Sorry for the—”

“Harrison, what is Two-Two looking at?” Wilhelm asked over the intercom. “It’s looking fifteen miles in the wrong damned direction. Check your ground surveillance plan.”

Patrick knew he had to step in himself—it wasn’t Harrison’s idea to look across the border into Turkey. “I just wanted to have a look across the border, Colonel.”

“Who is this?”

“McLanahan.”

“What are you doing on my net, General?” Wilhelm thundered. “I said you could observe and listen in, not talk, and I sure as hell didn’t authorize you to direct my sensor operators!”

“I’m sorry, Colonel, but I had a funny feeling about something, and I had to check it out.”

“Better to ask forgiveness than ask permission, eh, General?” Wilhelm sneered. “I heard that about you. I don’t care about your ‘funny feelings,’ McLanahan. Harrison, move that Reaper to cover…”

“Aren’t you even going to ask what I wanted to look at, Colonel?”

“I’m not, because nothing in Turkey interests me at the moment. In case you forgot, General, I have a reconnaissance platoon on the ground in action in Iraq, not Turkey. But as long as you bring it up, what in hell were you—”

“Rocket launch!” somebody cut in. On the monitor showing images broadcast from Kelly Two-Two, dozens of bright streaks of fire arced across the night sky—from across the border in Turkey!

“What the hell is that?” Wilhelm snapped. “Where is that coming from?”

“That’s a multiple rocket barrage from Turkey!” Patrick shouted. “Pull your men out of there, Colonel!”