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“No. A column of reinforcements will be coming in from the airport. Stop them and you win the entire battle.”

“Show me how.” A broad and enthusiastic smile crossed his handsome face, and Abdel held his rifle high while people cheered and cell phones and cameras snapped pictures and made little movies that would soon flood the Internet. An unknown man wearing a black roll-down mask was right beside him.

30

“You disobeyed me!” colonel Naqdi shouted as he stormed into the command post at the airport, and his furious eyes were like daggers. He did not care that other, lower-ranking men would hear what he had to say to their commanding general. The man was finished! “I told you to personally take charge of tonight’s executions in the park, General Khasrodad. You ignored my direct order, and look what has happened.”

“Keep your voice down, Colonel Naqdi,” Khasrodad replied in an equally hard tone. “We’re organizing a counterattack, and I have no time to waste arguing with you. Stay out of our way.”

Radios crackled on different tactical frequencies, and aides hurried in and out with reports and orders. Naqdi felt the eyes of the staff members scalding him and moved to one side to watch. He could wait a little while longer to deal with the insubordination. Let them stew for the time being and wonder what he was going to do.

The general was committing the last Boragh armored personnel carrier that had been airlifted in with the troops, this one armed with a cannon as well as the big machine gun. A bus that had been confiscated would follow it, tailed by three pickup trucks, all four filled with troops. Forty elite Iranian commandos with automatic weapons were ready to roll and eager for a fight, tired of being forced to stand by as a defensive occupation force. The officer in charge of the relief convoy reported that it was ready, and the general gave permission to set it in motion.

As the string of headlights went through the front gate, the general turned to Naqdi with a snarl. “Now. What do you want?”

Colonel Naqdi would not accept being bullied. “I wanted you to do your job, Khasrodad. I demand an explanation of why you were not down there as ordered.”

“Because my proper position is here at the headquarters, where I can see the big picture and command my entire force. You want a martyr with a sword on horseback. That’s stupid thinking.” He walked to a wall map of Sharm el-Sheikh and put his finger on the execution park. “We are going to reestablish control and get our men out of there.”

“How bad is it?” The colonel had heard only fragmentary reports on the fighting.

The general let out a long breath. “We don’t know. Local observers have told us that it was an ambush and heavy fighting, with both of our armored vehicles destroyed. I don’t understand why the captain did not call for backup forces, or even withdraw, if he saw such a threat developing.”

“It was your poor leadership. Do not try to fob it off on some captain.” Naqdi made his decision on the spot. “General, you are relieved of your command. I shall take over here. I order you to leave immediately.”

With every soldier in the room watching, Khasrodad turned slightly to his right and spoke to a monstrous man standing nearby. “Take this man out of the command post, Sergeant Major. The colonel is confined to his quarters, under guard.”

“No! You have no authority over me, Khasrodad. I refuse to be arrested.” The sergeant major grabbed Naqdi’s bicep with a huge hand and squeezed hard. It felt like the arm was being torn off.

“Very well. Then take him outside and shoot him, Sergeant Major. The charge is cowardice in the face of the enemy.”

“Yes, sir.” The big NCO shoved Naqdi toward the door.

“Cowardice? That is absurd, and I shall tell our senior leaders in Tehran of your insubordination and ineptness.”

“No. You will tell them nothing, for in about two minutes, you will be dead and out of my fucking hair, you interfering dog. This whole thing was your plan, and it has blown up in our faces.”

The colonel slowly raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll go. But you know I will still report this insubordination to Tehran.”

“So will I, Colonel. So will I. Now, leave.”

* * *

The convoy of reinforcements encountered no opposition as it trundled out of the airport beneath a spangle of stars. The headlights were bright and the ride smooth along the paved highway. In the distance lay Sharm el-Sheikh, most of it wrapped in darkness but with a few of the big hotels still gaudily lit. Those bright lights drew the eyes of the soldiers, when they should have been studying the road ahead and the buildings around them. The traffic circle that was the first checkpoint was directly ahead, and the armored personnel carrier led the way into it, now entering the more populous section of Sharm, although the streets were empty.

The APC had to slow a bit to handle the curve of the traffic circle but arced around smoothly, followed by the other vehicles. The driver saw the main road’s exit just ahead and steered for it, ready to accelerate. His commander was right behind him, mentally picturing the distance left to the park, and he ordered his radio operator to alert the base that they were through the first checkpoint and continuing on.

Simultaneous flashes popped through the darkness as three rocket-propelled grenades erupted from the ground floors of three different buildings at the exit, and the first one burst against the side, taking off a track. The second bored into the weak rear doors to explode inside, and the third skipped under the APC and went off like a land mine beneath it. In an instant, the powerful armored vehicle leapt upward in a fiery ball and crashed back to the roadway, everyone in it dead, its big cannon useless, and the burning hulk blocking the forward exit.

From rooftops and windows, men jumped up and let loose with a typhoon of gunfire at the troops in the bus and trucks, and a final RPG flashed out and drove like a burning lance into the last truck, which had just entered the traffic circle. It detonated, and the incinerated vehicle rolled to a halt to seal off the exit. The other vehicles were now trapped inside, and the soldiers bailed out of the trucks, harried by the gunmen firing down on them. The Iranians opened up with their own weapons, unable to see their targets, just raking the upper floors and roof edges around them. They knew that they were supposed to charge into the buildings and take the fight to the enemy, but most of their officers were dead, and every soldier there felt alone.

The whole column had been destroyed, at least a quarter of the force was dead or wounded, dancing flames surrounded them, and gunshots were blinking from every dark building, making more of them fall by the minute. The shouts of Egyptian rebels fell on their ears, and as soon as one Iranian soldier began to run, so did the others. Safety lay beyond this deadly traffic circle and out of this deadly ring of gunfire. The airport was the only place to go.

* * *

Swanson watched them go from the rooftop of a corner building, thinking, Well, that’s the end of that. His M-16A3 rifle was slung across a shoulder, and he had rolled up the mask, feeling a sense of relief for the first time in days. His fight here was over, and he could leave.

Abdel El-Din, with the bloody shirt and youthful enthusiasm, was the hero. Kyle’s guidance of the youngster in any future battle would be replaced by that of the police chief, a former army guy who knew what he was doing. As soon as he had been freed from his execution post, the old man had grabbed a gun and started shooting at Iranians. His men followed his example, and he threw open the police armories to get better weapons for the civilians who wanted to stand and fight the invaders. Kyle had advised on setting up the traffic circle ambush, but the chief didn’t need much help, due to his twenty years of military experience. He positioned the RPGs and a pair of light machine guns, then lined men along the surrounding rooftops and the upper windows, but he let Abdel give the order to fire. The chief, too, understood that the charisma and bravery of the young man was a force unto itself, a focus around which the people would rally. About a hundred men from Sharm el-Sheikh were now already fanning out to collect more volunteers and establish roadblocks.