“But you’re under arrest, McLanahan,” Wilhelm argued. “You’re still in my custody.”
“As long as the general is in my country and on my base, he is subject to my laws, not yours,” Jaffar said. “You may deal with him as you wish when he leaves, but now he is mine.”
Wilhelm opened his mouth, then closed it, and opened it again in blank confusion. “This is insane,” he said finally. “What do you think you’re going to do, McLanahan?”
“Baghdad wants help inducing the Turks to leave Iraq,” Patrick said. “They think the Turks will start tearing up the country trying to eradicate the PKK, and then create a buffer zone along the border to make it harder for the PKK to come back.”
“All that’s going to accomplish is angering the Turks and widening the conflict,” Wilhelm said. “You’re crazy if you think President Gardner’s going to let you do this.”
“President Gardner is not my president, and he is not Iraq,” Jaffar said. “President Rashid does this thing because the Americans will not help us.”
“Help you? Help you do what, Colonel?” Wilhelm asked, almost pleading. “You want us to go to war with Turkey? You know how these Turkish incursions work, Colonel. They come in, they attack some isolated camps and hideouts, and they go home. They drove a little deeper this time. So what? They’re not interested in taking any land.”
“And General McLanahan will be here to make sure it does not happen,” Jaffar said. “America will not interfere with this.”
“You’re going to replace my regiment with McLanahan and his robot planes and robot…whatever these things are?” Wilhelm asked. “His little company up against at least four Turkish infantry divisions?”
“It is said that Americans have little faith—they believe only what is in front of their noses,” Jaffar said. “I have seen it is true for you, Colonel Wilhelm. But I look at General McLanahan’s amazing aircraft and weapons, and all I see are possibilities. Perhaps as you say the Turks will not take our land or slaughter any innocent Iraqis, and we will not need the general’s weapons. But this is the largest force ever to enter Iraq, and I fear they will not stop at breaking apart a few camps.”
Jaffar stepped over to Wilhem and stood right in front of him. “You are a fine soldier and commander, Colonel,” he said, “and your unit is brave and has sacrificed much for my people and my country. But your president is abandoning Iraq.”
“That’s not true, Colonel,” Wilhelm said.
“I am told by Vice President Phoenix that he was ordered to go to Baghdad and speak with my government about the Turkish invasion,” Jaffar said, “including establishing a security buffer zone in Iraq. Gardner not only condones this invasion, but he is willing to give up Iraqi land to placate the Turks. That is not acceptable. I look at you and your forces here on my base, and I see only hardship for my people.”
He stepped over to Patrick and looked at the Tin Man and CID unit there on the ramp. “But I look at General McLanahan and his weapons, and I see hope. He is willing to fight. It may be for money, but at least he is willing to lead his men into battle in Iraq.”
The expression on Wilhelm’s face was changing from anger to surprise to outright confusion. “I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” he said. “I have an entire brigade here…and I’m supposed to do nothing, in the middle of a Turkish invasion? I’m supposed to sit back and watch while you fly missions and send out these…these Tinker Toys? Baghdad is going to fight the Turks? Five years ago you didn’t have an organized army! Two years ago your unit didn’t even exist.”
“Excuse me, Colonel, but I don’t think you’re helping yourself here,” Vice President Phoenix said. He walked over to the Army colonel. “Let’s go to your command center, let me inform Washington about what’s going on, and ask for guidance.”
“You’re not buying into this nonsense, are you, sir?”
“I don’t see we have much choice right now, Colonel,” Phoenix said. He put a hand on Wilhelm’s shoulders and led him back to his Humvee. “Kind of like watching your daughter go off to college, isn’t it? They’re ready for their new life, but you’re not ready to see them off.”
“So, General McLanahan,” Yusuf Jaffar said after Wilhelm and his men departed, “as you Americans say, the ball is now in your court. You know Baghdad’s desires. What will you do now?”
“I think it’s time to test the Turks’ real intentions,” Patrick said. “Everyone has been very cooperative so far, and that’s good, but they’re still in your country with a lot of troops and aircraft. Let’s see what they do when you start insisting.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Courage is the price that life exacts for granting peace.
“Movement at the front gate, sir!” the Turkish captain of the troops surrounding Nahla Air Base heard on his portable radio. “Combat vehicles lining up to exit!”
“Bombok!” the captain swore. “What’s going on?” He threw his coffee out the window and exited his armored personnel carrier. A Humvee flying an American flag and pulling a trailer was entering the entrapment area, with another Humvee-trailer combo outside waiting its turn. The weapon cupolas on each vehicle had machine guns and grenade launchers mounted, but they still had canvas covers on them, they were locked in road-march position, and the gunner’s stations were not manned.
“Where do they think they are going?” the Turkish infantry captain asked.
“Should we stop them?” his first sergeant asked.
“We have no orders to interfere with them unless they attack us,” the captain said. “Otherwise we observe and report only.”
The Turks watched as the first Humvee exited, then pulled out away from the front gate and stopped to wait for the second. The Turkish captain stepped over to the front passenger side of the lead vehicle. “Good morning, sir,” he said. He saw it was a civilian. He knew the Americans employed a lot of civilians to work at their military bases, but to see one out here was rather bizarre.
“Good morning…er, I mean, günaydin,” the man said in clumsy but understandable Turkish. “How’s it going?”
“Very well, sir,” the captain said in a low voice. The American just smiled and nodded. The Turk used the opportunity to peek inside the Humvee. There were two civilians in the rear seats and a lot of supplies under green tarps in the very back. One civilian passenger looked military, and he wore a strange outfit, like a scuba diver’s wet suit, covered by a jacket. He looked straight ahead and did not return the Turk’s gaze. The twenty-foot flatbed trailer was empty.
The American stuck out his right hand. “Jon Masters.”
The Turkish captain frowned, but took his hand and shook it. “Captain Evren.”
“Nice to met you,” Jon said. He looked around. “You guys doing okay out here? Anything we can get you?”
“No, efendim,” Evren said. He was waiting for some kind of explanation, but apparently this man was not interested in offering anything but chitchat. “May I ask where you are going, sir?”
“Just driving around.”
Evren looked at the gaggle of Humvees, then back at Jon with a stern expression. “At this hour, and with trailers?”
“Why not? I’ve been here in Iraq for a couple weeks and I haven’t seen anything of the countryside. Thought I’d better do it while the doin’ is good.”