Inside the enclosure, Azzawi found a large transport truck with a squat, square steel enclosure on the flatbed, along with two antenna masts lowered onto the deck of the truck and folded up in road-march configuration. “Well, here is the communications antennae the captain said he was setting up,” Azzawi said. “I guess he was telling the truth.”
“Not entirely, Commander,” Salih said. “I recognize this equipment because back home I guarded an American convoy of these things being set up to guard against an Iranian attack into Iraq. This is called an antenna mast group, which relays microwave command signals from a radar site to missile launch sites. That truck back there is a power generator…for a Patriot antiaircraft missile battery.”
“A Patriot missile battery?” Azzawi exclaimed.
“They must be the advance team setting up a base station for a Patriot missile battery,” Salih said. “They’ll bring in a huge flat-screen radar and a control station and be able to control several launchers spread out over miles. It’s all very portable; they can operate anywhere.”
“But why on God’s great earth are the Turks setting up an antiaircraft missile site out here?” Azzawi asked. “Unless the Kurdish government in Iraq somehow built itself an air force, who are they guarding against?”
“I don’t know,” Salih said. “But whoever it is, they must be flying over Turkish territory, and the Turks shot at them last night. I wonder who it was?”
“I don’t really care who they are—if they’re fighting Turks, that’s good enough for me,” Azzawi said. “Let’s take these vehicles back home. I don’t know what value they have, but they look brand-new, and maybe we can use them. At the very least, we won’t have to walk as far to get home. Good job tonight, Sadoon.”
“Thank you, Commander. It’s a pleasure to serve under such a strong leader. I’m sorry we didn’t do that much damage to the Turks, though…”
“Every little cut weakens them just a little bit more,” Zilar said. “We are few, but if we keep on inflicting these little cuts, eventually we’ll succeed.”
“The initial reports were true, sir,” General Orhan Sahin, secretary-general of the Turkish national security council said, running a hand through his dark sandy hair. “The PKK terrorists stole several components of a Patriot surface-to-air missile battery, specifically the antenna mast group, power generator, and cables.”
“Unbelievable, simply unbelievable,” President Kurzat Hirsiz muttered. He had assembled his national security council for an update on planning for the Iraq operation, but things seemed to be getting worse by the day and threatening to spin out of control. “What happened?”
“Early last night a PKK platoon, reportedly led by the terrorist commando mastermind they call the Hawk, attacked a Patriot headquarters emplacement that was being set up near the town of Beytussebap,” Sahin said. “The terrorists killed five, wounded twelve, and tied up the rest. All of our soldiers and technicians are accounted for—they took no prisoners, which means it was probably just a surveillance team or patrol, not a strike force. They made off with major Patriot missile battery components that were mounted on trucks for easy deployment, parts that allow the headquarters to communicate with remote launchers. Fortunately the headquarters vehicle itself and the missile transporter-launchers were not present.”
“Am I supposed to feel relieved about this?” Hirsiz shouted. “Where was security? How could this happen?”
“The base was not yet fully set up, so there was no perimeter fencing or barriers,” Sahin said. “There was only a token security force in place—the rest had been sent to help search for wreckage of the engagement that happened the previous night.”
“My God,” Hirsiz breathed. He turned to Prime Minister Akas. “We must do this, Ays¸e, and do it now,” he said to her. “We must accelerate the Iraq operation. I want to declare a state of national emergency. You must convince the Grand National Assembly to declare war on the Kurdistan Workers’ Party and all its affiliated groups throughout Turkey’s neighboring region and order a call-up of reserves.”
“That is craziness, Kurzat,” Akas said. “There is no reason for a state of emergency. Whoever leaked that rumor should be thrown in jail. And how can you declare war on an ethnic group? Is this Nazi Germany?”
“If you don’t want to participate, Prime Minister, you should resign,” Minister of National Defense Hasan Cizek said. “The rest of the cabinet is with the president. You stand in the way of getting this operation fully under way. We need the cooperation of the National Assembly and the Turkish people.”
“And I disagree with this plan, as do the legislators I have spoken with behind closed doors,” Akas said. “We are all disgusted and frustrated by the PKK attacks, but invading Iraq is not the way to solve the problem. And if anyone should resign, Minister, it is you. The PKK has infiltrated the Jandarma, stolen valuable weapons, and run roughshod over the entire country. I am not going to resign. I appear to be the only voice of reason here.”
“Reason?” Cizek cried. “You stand there and call for meetings and negotiations while Turks are slaughtered. Where’s the reason in that?” He turned to Hirsiz. “We’re wasting time here, sir,” he growled. “She will never comply. I told you, she’s a brainless ideological idiot. She’d rather stonewall than do the right thing to save the republic.”
“How dare you, Cizek?” Akas shouted, stunned by his words. “I am the prime minister of Turkey!”
“Listen to me, Ays¸e,” Hirsiz said. “I can’t do this without you. We’ve been in Ankara together for too many years, in the National Assembly and in Çancaya. Our country is under siege. We can’t just talk any longer.”
“I promise you, Mr. President, I will do everything in my power to make the world realize that we need help to stop the PKK,” Akas said. “Don’t let your hatred and frustration lead you to bad decisions or rash actions.” She stepped closer to Hirsiz. “The republic is counting on us, Kurzat.”
Hirsiz looked like a man who had been beaten and tortured for days. He nodded. “You’re right, Ays¸e,” he said. “The republic is counting on us.” He turned to the military chief of staff, General Abdullah Guzlev: “Do it, General.”
“Yes, sir,” Guzlev said, and he went to the president’s desk and picked up a phone.
“Do what, Kurzat?” Akas asked.
“I’m accelerating the deployment of the armed forces,” Hirsiz said. “We’ll be ready to begin the operation in a few days.”
“You cannot begin a military offensive without a declaration of war by the National Assembly,” Akas said. “I assure you, we don’t have the votes yet. Give me more time. I’m sure I can convince—”
“We won’t need the votes, Ays¸e,” Hirsiz said, “because I’m instituting a state of emergency and dissolving the National Assembly.”
Akas’s eyes bugged out in complete shock. “You’re what…?”
“We have no choice, Ays¸e.”
“We? You mean, your military advisers? General Ozek? They’re your advisers now?”
“The situation demands action, Ays¸e, not talk,” Hirsiz said. “I was hoping you’d help us, but I’m prepared to take action without you.”
“Don’t do it, Kurzat,” Akas said. “I know the situation is grave, but don’t make any rash decisions. Let me gather support from the Americans and the United Nations. They are sympathetic to us. The American vice president will listen. But if you do this, we’ll lose all support from everyone.”