by Dale Brown
“If there is a president of Turkey,” Phoenix said. “The word from our ambassador in Ankara said that the president was ‘conferring with his political and military advisers.’ The foreign ministry won’t say any more, and the president’s call to the prime minister and president of Turkey haven’t been returned. He looked like a robot on television; he could have been under duress, even drugged.”
“Sir, before we waste any more time trying to figure out what the Turks are going to do next, our first priority is to get you out of here and back to Baghdad—preferably back to the States,” Wilhelm said. “Your Secret Service detail may have better options, but I recommend—”
“I’m not ready to leave yet, Colonel,” Phoenix said.
“Excuse me, sir?” Wilhelm asked incredulously. “We’re in the middle of a shooting war, sir. They just bombed this base! I can’t guarantee your safety—I don’t believe anyone can right now.”
“Colonel, I came here to meet with the Iraqis, Turks, Kurds, and Americans to try to resolve the PKK situation,” Phoenix said, “and I’m not leaving unless I’m ordered to do so by my boss.” Wilhelm was about to say something, but Phoenix stopped him with an up-raised hand. “Enough, Colonel. I need access to a telephone or radio to contact Washington, and I’ll need—”
At that moment a buzzer sounded, and Wilhelm leaped for the phone. “Go.”
“Multiple high-altitude aircraft approaching from the north, sir,” Mark Weatherly reported. “Lower speed, perhaps turboprops. We suspect they’re transports, possibly inserting paratroopers. The Iraqi army is reporting more comm jamming, too. We haven’t picked it up yet.”
“Continue to monitor and advise,” Wilhelm said. He thought for a moment, then added, “Advise all Warhammer units, weapons tight, self-defense only, and recall the Avengers back into the base.”
“Sir? Say again—”
“We’re not at war with the damned Turks, Weatherly,” Wilhelm interrupted. “Our intel says we’re already outnumbered by at least ten to one, so they can just roll right over us if they get pissed off enough. I’ll make it plain to them that they can buzz Iraq all they like, but they’re not going to take this base. Recall the Avengers and all other Warhammer units that are outside the wire. Once they’re back inside the fence, we go on full defensive posture, ready to repel all attackers. Got that?”
“Roger, sir.”
“Advise Jaffar and tell him that I want to meet with him and his company commanders about what to do if the Turks invade,” Wilhelm said. “They might feel like fighting, but we’re not here to get in the middle of a shooting war.” He looked at the vice president. “Still want to stay here, sir? It could get hairy.”
“Like I said, Colonel, I’m on a diplomatic mission,” Phoenix said. “Maybe when the Turks figure out I’m here, they’ll be less likely to start shooting. I might even be able to start cease-fire talks from here.”
“I’d feel better if you were at least down in Baghdad, sir,” Wilhelm said, “but you sound good and positive, and I could sure use some positive vibrations around here right now.”
The phone buzzed again, and Wilhelm picked it up.
“Weatherly here, sir. We got a problem: I phoned Jaffar’s office—he’s not here. No one in the IA senior staff is answering the phone.”
“Ask Mawloud or Jabburi where they went.”
“They’re not here either, sir. I tried Jabburi’s radio: no answer. He’s been away from the Tank since before the attacks started.”
Wilhelm looked out the windows of the conference room down to the main floor of the Tank; sure enough, the Turkish liaison officer’s console was vacant. “Find some hajii in charge and tell him to get up here on the double, Weatherly.” He hung up the phone. “Thompson?”
“Checking, Colonel.” Kris Thompson was already on his portable radio. “Security control says a convoy of troop buses and trucks left the base about an hour ago, Colonel,” he said a moment later. “Had men and equipment, proper authorizations signed by Jaffar.”
“No one thought to notify me of this?”
“The gate guards said it looked routine, and they had proper orders.”
“Have any of your guys seen any Iraqi soldiers anywhere?” Wilhelm thundered.
“Checking, Colonel.” But everyone could tell by watching Thompson’s incredulous expression what the answer was: “Colonel, the IA headquarters is vacant.”
“Vacant?”
“Just a couple soldiers busy breaking up hard drives and memory chips out of computers,” Thompson said. “Looks like they’ve bugged out. Want me to stop those guys and question them?”
Wilhelm ran a hand across his face, then shook his head. “Negative,” he said wearily. “It’s their base and their stuff. Take pictures and statements, then leave them be.” He practically threw the receiver back on its hook. “Un-friggin’-believable,” he muttered. “An entire Iraqi army brigade just up and walks out?”
“And right before an attack,” Thompson added. “Could they have gotten wind of it?”
“Doesn’t matter—they’re gone,” Wilhelm said. “But I can tell you one thing: they’re not getting back on this base unless I know about it first, that’s for damn sure. Tell your guys that.”
“Will do, Colonel.”
Wilhelm turned again to the vice president. “Sir, you need any more reasons to head on back to Baghdad?”
At that instant an alarm buzzer sounded. Wilhelm picked up the phone and turned toward the displays in the front of the Tank. “What is it now, Weatherly?”
“That nearest column of Turkish armored vehicles inbound from the north are ten klicks out,” Weatherly said. “They’ve spotted Piney Two-Three and are holding position.”
Wilhelm ran as fast as he could downstairs to his console, with the others following. The video feed from the Avenger antiaircraft unit showed a dark green armored vehicle, flying a large red flag with a white crescent. Its machine guns were raised. The XC-57’s laser radar image showed the other vehicles in line behind it. “Two-Three, this is Alpha, weapons tight, road-march position.”
“Copy, Warhammer, we’re in road march already,” the Avenger vehicle commander replied, verifying that his weapons were safe and the barrels of his Stinger missiles and twenty-millimeter Gatling gun were aimed skyward, not at the Turks.
“Can you back up or turn around?”
“Affirm to both.”
“Very slowly, back up, turn around, and then head back to the base at normal speed,” Wilhelm ordered. “Keep your barrels aimed away from them. I don’t think they’re going to bother you.”
“Hope you’re right, Alpha. Two-Three copies all, on the move.”
It was a tense few minutes. Since the camera on board the Avenger only aimed forward they lost the video feed, so they couldn’t see if the Turkish APC crews were readying any antitank weapons. But the XC-57 image showed the Turkish vehicles holding position as the Avenger turned around, and then following it from a distance of about a hundred yards as it headed back to the base.
“Here they come,” Wilhelm said, removing his headset and throwing it on the desk in front of him. “Mr. Vice President, at the risk of stating the obvious, you’ll be our guest for the near future, courtesy of the Republic of Turkey.”
“Well handled, Colonel,” Ken Phoenix said. “The Turks know they can blast us up, but they’re holding back. If we struck back, they’d have attacked for sure.”
“We’re allies, right?” Wilhelm said sarcastically. “Somehow I almost forgot that. Besides, it’s an easy call not to hit back if you have almost nothing to hit back with.” He turned to Kris Thompson. “Thompson, cancel the repel-forces order, but shut down the base, get everyone up, and man the gates and perimeter. I want a strong presence, but minimal visible weapons. No one fires unless fired upon. Weatherly, monitor the other inbound Avengers, let them know we have visitors, weapons tight and raised. I think the Turks will let them through.”
In less than
an hour, every major entrance to Allied Air Base Nahla had a team of two Turkish armored vehicles parked outside. They presented a very nonhostile appearance, with weapons raised and infantry crews remaining near their vehicles with rifles shouldered…but they weren’t allowing anyone to come near. The base was definitely closed down.
CHAPTER SIX
Failure to recognize possibilities is the most dangerous and common mistake one can make.
—MAE JEMISON, ASTRONAUT
OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT, ÇANCAYA, ANKARA, TURKEY
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING
“That’s the third call from Washington, sir,” an aide said as he hung up the phone. “The secretary of state herself this time. She sounded angry.”
President Kurzat Hirsiz waved at the aide to shut him up, then said into his telephone, “Go ahead with your report, General.”
“Yes, sir,” General Abdullah Guzlev said via secure satellite telephone. “First Division has pushed all the way to Tall Afar, northwest of Mosul. They’ve surrounded the military airbase and secured the pipeline and the pumping station at Avghani. The Iraqis can still disrupt flow from the Baba Gurgur fields to the east and trans-shipped oil from the southern fields, but the oil from the Qualeh field is secure.”
Amazing, Hirsiz thought. The thrust into Iraq was going better than expected. “The Iraqi army did not secure the pipeline or the pumping station?” he asked.
“No, sir. Private security companies only, and they did not resist.”
That was truly great news; he had expected the Iraqis to vigorously defend the pipeline and infrastructure. The oil flowing through the Kirkuk-Ceyhan pipeline represented 40 percent of Iraq’s oil revenue. An interesting development indeed…“Very well, General. Your progress has been amazing. Well done. Continue.”
“Thank you, sir,” Guzlev went on. “Second Division has pushed all the way to Mosul and has captured Qayyarah South Airport. Our air forces bombed the runway at Nahla, the Iraqi military air base north of the city near Tall Kayf, and we have that airfield surrounded. We are presently landing transport and armed patrol aircraft at Qayyarah South Airport.”
“Any resistance from the Iraqi or Americans at Nahla?”
“The Americans are not resisting; however, we are not in contact with any Iraqi forces based there.”
“Not in contact?”
“They seem to have left the base and retreated to Mosul or Kirkuk,” Guzlev said. “We are on guard in case they pop up suddenly, but we believe they simply took off their uniforms and are hiding in the population.”
“That could be a problem later on, but hopefully they’ll stay hidden for a while. And General Ozek’s forces?”
“The two Jandarma divisions operating in the east have encountered heavier resistance than the other two divisions, mostly facing peshmerga guerrillas,” Guzlev replied, “but they have surrounded Irbil Northwest Airport.”
“We were expecting resistance from the peshmerga—that’s why we decided to send two Jandarma divisions east, with the other three divisions ready to move in if they’re needed,” Hirsiz said. The peshmerga, Kurdish for “those who face death,” began as Kurdish freedom fighters battling Saddam Hussein’s army against his brutal attempts to displace the Kurdish minority from the oil-rich areas of northeastern Iraq, which the Kurds claim as part of a future state of Kurdistan. After the U.S. invasion of Iraq, the peshmerga fought Saddam’s army side by side with U.S. forces. Thanks to years of American training and assistance, the peshmerga became an effective fighting force and the defenders of the Kurdish Regional Government.
“We are still outnumbered if what our intelligence says is the full strength of the peshmerga,” Guzlev went on. “We should advance two Jandarma divisions south to reinforce the supply lines, and leave the last in reserve. If General Ozek’s forces solidly hold and control Highways Three and Four in and out of Irbil, plus keep the airport approaches clear, we’ll have a solid line of defense from Irbil to Tall Afar, and we can force the peshmerga up into the mountains east of Irbil.”
“Then I will give the order,” Hirsiz said. “Meanwhile, I’ll be negotiating a cease-fire with the Iraqis, Kurds, and Americans. Eventually we’ll come to some sort of agreement for a buffer zone, including multinational patrols and monitoring, and we will eventually withdraw…”
“And as we withdraw, we’ll root out every last stinking PKK training base we find,” Guzlev said.
“Absolutely,” Hirsiz said. “Do you have a casualty report?”
“Casualties have been minimal, sir, except General Ozek reports about two percent losses so far as he moves through the heavily Kurdish areas,” Guzlev said. With Jandarma divisions equaling about twenty thousand men each, losing four hundred men in one day was serious stuff; those three reserve Jandarma divisions were going to be sorely needed. “We are having no difficulties evacuating the dead and wounded back to Turkey. Aircraft losses have been minimal as well. The worst were the loss of a transport plane that was departing Irbil to bring back more supplies—it may have been downed by enemy fire, we’re not sure yet. A heavy transport helicopter was lost due to mechanical problems, and an RF-4E electronic jamming aircraft was shot down by an American reconnaissance aircraft.”
“American reconnaissance aircraft? How can a reconnaissance aircraft shoot down one of ours?”
“Unknown, sir. The reconnaissance systems officer reported that they were under attack by what he described as heavy levels of radiation.”
“Radiation?”
“That’s what he said, moments before he lost communications with the pilot. The pilot and the aircraft were lost.”
“What in hell are the Americans firing radiation weapons at us for?” Hirsiz thundered.
“We have been careful to minimize casualties, military and civilian, on both sides, sir,” Guzlev said. “The division commanders are under strict orders to tell their men that they may fire only when fired upon, except for known or suspected PKK terrorists they discover.”
“What sort of forces are you encountering, General? What units are you engaging?”
“We are encountering light resistance throughout the entire region, sir,” Guzlev reported. “The Americans have not engaged us. They have set up strong defensive positions inside their bases and continue unmanned aerial reconnaissance, but they are not attacking, and we do not expect them to do so.”
“That is correct, General—be sure your divisions remember that,” Hirsiz warned. “We have no indications whatsoever that the Americans will attack us as long as we don’t attack them. Don’t give them a reason to come out and fight.”
“I brief my generals every hour, sir. They know,” Guzlev acknowledged. “The Iraqi army seems to have disappeared, probably fled toward Baghdad or simply took off their uniforms, hid their weapons, and will wait it out, like they did when the Americans invaded in 2003.”
“I don’t expect them to fight either, General; they don’t like the PKK any more than we do. Let them hide.”
“The PKK terrorists are on the run, trying to make it to larger towns and cities,” Guzlev went on. “It will take hard work to dig them out, but we’ll do it. We’re hoping to keep them in the countryside so they don’t escape to Irbil or Kirkuk and blend in with the population. The peshmerga remain a significant threat, but they are not engaging us as of yet—they are fierce defenders of their towns, but they are not attacking us. That may change.”
“A diplomatic solution will be necessary with the Kurdish Regional Government to find some way to allow us to look for the PKK terrorists without battling peshmerga,” Hirsiz said. “Washington has been calling all night demanding an explanation. I think now is time to talk to them. Press on, General. Pass on to your men: Job well done. Good luck, and good hunting.”
“Excellent news indeed, sir,” General Orhan Zahin, secretary-general of the Turkish National Security Council, said. “Better than anticipated. No one is opposing us except for a few peshmerga fighters and PKK terror
ists.” Hirsiz nodded but said nothing—he appeared to be lost in thought. “Don’t you agree, sir?”
“Of course,” Hirsiz said. “We expected to get bogged down in the hills, but without organized opposition, northern Iraq is wide open…especially Irbil, the capital of the Kurdistan Regional Government, who refuse to crack down on the PKK.”
“What are you saying, sir?”
“I’m saying that if we squeeze Irbil, we can force the KRG to help us hunt down the PKK terrorists,” Hirsiz said. “Everyone knows companies owned by the KRG cabinet and senior leadership funnel money to the PKK. Maybe it’s time to make them pay a price. Destroy those businesses, close down the KTC pipeline, close the border crossings and airspace to anything or anyone associated with the KRG, and they’ll be begging to help us.” He turned to Minister of Defense Cizek. “Get a list of targets in Irbil that will specifically target KRG resources, and work with General Guzlev to add them to his target list.”
“We should be careful about mission creep, sir,” Cizek said. “Our goal is to set up a buffer zone in northern Iraq and wipe it clean of PKK. Attacking Irbil is far outside that objective.”
“It is another way to destroy the PKK—by having the Iraqis help us,” Hirsiz said. “If they want to see an end to our attacks and our occupation, they’ll help us eradicate the PKK, as they should have been doing years ago.” Cizek still looked concerned, but he nodded and made notes to himself. “Very good. Now I’ll go talk with Joseph Gardner and see if he has any desire to help us.”
THE OVAL OFFICE, THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C.
A SHORT TIME LATER, EARLY AFTERNOON
A phone right beside Chief of Staff Walter Kordus’s elbow beeped, and he picked it up immediately. “Call from Ankara, sir,” he said. “Signals says it’s from the president himself.”
“Finally,” President Joseph Gardner said. He was behind his desk, watching the cable news reports about the invasion of Iraq with his national security adviser, Conrad Carlyle, Secretary of Defense Miller Turner, and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, U.S. Marine Corps general Taylor J. Bain. On a video teleconference feed were Vice President Kenneth Phoenix at Allied Air Base Nahla in Iraq, and Secretary of State Stacy Barbeau from Aviano Air Base in Italy, where she had diverted instead of continuing on to Iraq from Washington. “Put him on.” He thought for a moment, then shook his hand. “No, wait, I’ll make him wait and see how he likes it. Tell him to hold for me and I’ll speak with him in a minute.”
