Rogue Forces

“Thanks, Colonel. I’ll pass that along to Jon and his engineers.”

“You do that.” Wilhelm motioned to the television monitor. “So, have you spoken with the veep about the shit happening in Turkey?”

“He’s on his way to Irbil for a meeting with Iraqi, Kurdish, and maybe Turkish leaders,” Patrick said. “He said he’d get an update from us when he landed.”

“Still think Turkey will invade?”

“Yes. More than ever now. If Hirsiz doesn’t have support for war, the only legal way he can start one is by dissolving the National Assembly and ordering it himself.”

“I think that’s crazy, General,” Wilhelm said. “The Zakhu attack was a big screwup, that’s all. The military is in the field because the generals want to show who’s boss and to force the Kurds, Iraqis, and Americans to the bargaining table.”

“I hope you’re right, Colonel,” Patrick said. “But they’ve got a big force out there, and it’s getting bigger every hour.”

“It’s a show of force, that’s all,” Wilhelm insisted.

“We’ll see.”

“Let’s say they do invade. How far do you think they’ll go?”

“Hopefully they might just take Dahuk province and then stop,” Patrick said. “But with this force they’re rushing to the border, they might take Irbil International, besiege the city and half of Irbil province, and force the Kurdish government to flee. After that, they might march all the way to Kirkuk. They could say it’s to protect the KTC pipeline from Kurdish insurgents.”

“‘Besiege’—listen to you, General,” Wilhelm said, chuckling and shaking his head. “Have you ever been in a siege, General, or do you just bomb the crap out of places from beyond visual range?”

“Ever heard of a place called Jakutsk, Colonel?” Patrick asked.

Wilhelm’s jaw dropped, first in shock—at himself—and then in shame. “Oh…oh, shit, General, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He had certainly heard of Jakutsk, the third largest city in Russian Siberia…

…and the location of a large air base that was used as a forward tanker base to refuel Russian long-range bombers involved in the American holocaust—the nuclear attack on the United States that killed thirty thousand persons, injured almost a hundred thousand, and destroyed almost all of America’s long-range manned bombers and land-based intercontinental ballistic missiles, just six years earlier.

Patrick McLanahan had devised a plan to strike back at Russia’s land-based nuclear missiles by landing a Tin Man and Cybernetic Infantry Device commando team into Jakutsk, capturing the base, then using it to stage American bombers on precision air raids throughout Russia. The Russian president Anatoliy Gryzlov retaliated by attacking his own air base…with nuclear-tipped cruise missiles. Although Patrick’s defenses stopped most of the cruise missiles and allowed most of Patrick’s bomber and tanker force to escape, thousands of Russians and all but a handful of the American ground team members were incinerated.

“When did you acquire this habit of talking first and thinking second, Colonel?” Patrick asked. “Is it just being in Iraq, or have you been working on the technique for a long time now?”

“I said I’m sorry, General,” Wilhelm said irritably—again, aimed directly at himself. “I forget who I’m talking to. And I could blame it on being in this shithole for almost eighteen months—that could drive anyone to mouth off, or worse. This is my third tour in Iraq, and I never had a solid handle on the mission—ever. They change it every couple months anyway: we’re here to stay, we’re leaving, we’re staying, we’re leaving; we’re fighting foreigners, we’re fighting Sunnis, we’re fighting Shia, we’re fighting al-Qaeda; now we’re maybe fighting Turks.” He paused, looked at Patrick apologetically, then added, “But I won’t blame it on anything but being an asshole. Again, sir, I’m sorry. Forget I said it.”

“It’s forgotten, Colonel.” Patrick looked at the sector composite map, then at the news coverage of the rioting around Turkey. “And you made your point: if the Turks head to Irbil and Kirkuk, they won’t ‘besiege’ them—they’ll level them, and kill hundreds of thousands of people as they do.”

“Roger that, sir,” Wilhelm said. “The final solution to their Kurdish problem.” The intercom beeped, and Wilhelm touched his mike button: “Go…copy that…roger, I’ll tell him. Warhammer out. Listen up, ladies and gents. Division has notified us that the vice president will be on his way to Irbil in about an hour to meet with members of the Kurdistan Regional Government in the morning. He’ll transit our sector before being handed off to Irbil Approach, but Baghdad will be controlling and monitoring the flight and they’ll follow normal VIP and diplomatic flight procedures. General, I’ve been ordered to—”

“I can maintain a detailed watch over the vice president’s flight path for any signs of movement,” Patrick interjected. “Just pass the waypoints to me and I’ll set it up.”

“You can do that and maintain a watch on our sector?” Wilhelm asked.