Rogue Forces

“I know who the hell you are and where you are located,” the sector commander snapped. “Are you monitoring my radio messages?”

“Mr. Thompson says that the Status of Forces agreement between the United States, Iraq, and Turkey allows monitoring of routine and emergency radio traffic between military units party to the agreement,” the interpreter said. “He says you may verify this with your foreign ministry if necessary.”

“I am well aware of the agreement.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Thompson wants me to tell you that specific information regarding the systems involved in operations inside Iraq is not permitted to be revealed except in accordance with the Status of Forces agreement. The agreement allows an observer to view the aircraft that will be used and to monitor it throughout its mission, but he may not reveal any other details.”

“Thompson, I am about to shoot down an unidentified aircraft violating the Turkish airspace buffer zone,” the sector commander said. “I wanted to get more information to be sure I was not attacking an American or Iraqi aircraft. If you wish to play word games or shake the Status of Forces agreement in my face instead of assisting me in validating this target’s identity, so be it. Major Sabasti.”

“Sir!”

“Inform the Americans that we are tracking an unknown aircraft in the buffer zone and that we consider it hostile,” the sector commander said in Turkish. “I recommend to them that all allied aircraft and ground patrols stay well clear and the reconnaissance aircraft may want to vacate the patrol box.”

“I’ll pass the word along immediately, sir.”

“Very well.” The sector commander terminated the connection with an angry stab. “Is Ankara on the line yet?” he thundered.

“Standing by, sir.”

“This is Mat,” a voice responded. The sector commander knew that Mat, Turkish for “checkmate,” was the operations officer for the military chief of staff. “We are monitoring your radar contact, and the liaison officer at Nahla has messaged us saying that you contacted them for coordination and identification and they say it is not one of theirs. Recommendation?”

“Engage immediately, sir.”

“Stand by.” Those two damned dreaded words…but moments later: “We concur, Kamyan. Engage as directed. Out.”

“Kamyan copies, engaged as directed. Kamyan out.” The sector commander changed to his tactical channel: “Ustura, this is Kamyan, engage as directed.”

“Ustura copies, engage as directed. Ustura out.” The tactical director hung up the phone. “We’ve been ordered to engage as directed,” he announced. “Any change in target path or altitude? Any response to our broadcasts?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. Engage.”

“I copy ‘engage.’” The tactical control officer reached up, lifted a red-colored cover, and pressed a large red button, which activated a Klaxon throughout the four Patriot line batteries spread throughout southeastern Turkey. Each line battery consisted of four Patriot platoons, each with one Patriot Advanced Capability-3 (PAC-3) launcher with sixteen missiles, plus another sixteen missiles ready to load. “Engage.”

“I copy ‘engage,’” the Tactical Control Assistant repeated. He checked the target’s location with the battalion’s deployed Patriot batteries, picked the closest one to the hostile, and punched the communications button to that battery. “Ustura Two, Ustura Two, this is Ustura, operate, operate, operate.”

“Two copies ‘operate.’” There was a brief pause, and then the second firing battery’s status report changed from “standby” to “operate,” meaning the battery’s missiles were ready to fire. “Second Battery reports status is ‘operate,’ ready to engage.”

“Acknowledged.” The tactical control officer kept on mashing the warning horn as he watched his computer readouts. The attack was all controlled by computer from here on out—the humans could do nothing but shut it off if they desired. Moments later, the Engagement Control Computer reported that it had designated one of the platoons located west of the mountain town of Beytussebap to engage. “Fifth Platoon has been activated…missile one away.” Four seconds later: “Missile two away. Radar is active.”

Traveling at over three thousand miles per hour, the Patriot missiles needed less than six seconds to reach their prey. “Missile one direct hit, sir,” the Tactical Control Assistant reported. Moments later: “Missile two engaging a second target, sir!”

“A second target?”

“Yes, sir. Same altitude, rapidly decreasing airspeed…direct hit on second hostile, sir!”

“There were two aircraft out there?” the tactical director mused aloud. “Could they have been flying in formation?”

“Possible, sir,” the tactical control officer responded. “But why?”

The tactical director shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense, but whatever they were, we got them. It could have been debris from the first hit.”

“It looked very large, sir, like a second aircraft.”