Rogue Forces

“My God,” Hirsiz muttered. “The PKK infiltrates into our units and offices higher and higher every day.”

“I think it is a very good possibility that PKK agents have infiltrated into the very office of the Jandarma, the organization tasked with defending the country against those murderous bastards,” Sahin said. “My guess is that Ozek’s travel plans were leaked and the PKK targeted that plane specifically to kill him.”

“But you told me Ozek was going to Diyarbakir on a surprise inspection!” Hirsiz exclaimed. “Is it possible they’ve infiltrated so deeply and are organized so well that they can dispatch a kill squad with a shoulder-fired antiaircraft missile so quickly?”

“It has to be an inside job, but not just one man—that base must be infested with insurgents in deep cover, in highly trusted positions, ready to be activated and deployed within hours with specific attacks tasks.”

“It’s a level of sophistication we’ve dreaded but have been expecting, sir,” General Abdullah Guzlev, chief of staff of the Turkish military forces, said. “It’s time we reacted in kind. We can’t be content to just play defense, sir. We need to go after the leadership of the PKK and wipe them out once and for all.”

“In Iraq and Iran, I suppose, General?” Prime Minister Akas asked.

“That’s where they hide, Madam Prime Minister, like the cowards they are,” Guzlev snapped. “We’ll get an update from our undercover operatives, find a few nests with as many of the murderous bastards as possible in them, and eliminate them.”

“Exactly what will that accomplish, General,” Foreign Minister Mustafa Hamarat asked, “except further angering our neighbors, the world community, and our supporters in the United States and Europe?”

“Excuse me, Minister,” Guzlev said angrily, “but I’m not much concerned about what someone on another continent thinks while innocent men, women, and children are being murdered by—”

Guzlev was interrupted by a ringing telephone, which was answered immediately by the president’s chief of staff. The aide looked dumbstruck as he put down the receiver. “Sir, General Ozek is in your outer office and wishes to speak to the national security staff!”

“Ozek! I thought he was in serious condition!” Hirsiz exclaimed. “Yes, yes, get him in here immediately, and bring a corpsman to monitor him at all times.”

It was almost painful to look at the man when he stepped into the office. His right shoulder and the right side of his head were heavily bandaged, several fingers on both hands were taped together, he walked with a limp, his eyes were puffy, and the parts of his face and neck that were visible were covered in cuts, burns, and bruises—but he was upright, and he refused any assistance from the Çancaya corpsman who arrived for him. Ozek stood at wobbly attention at the doorway and saluted. “Permission to speak to the president, sir,” he said, his voice hoarse from breathing burning jet fuel and aluminum.

“Of course, of course, General. Get off your feet and sit, man!” Hirsiz exclaimed.

The president led Ozek over to the sofa, but the Jandarma commander held up a hand. “I’m sorry, sir, but I must stand. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to get up again,” Ozek said.

“What are you doing here, General?” Prime Minister Akas asked.

“I felt it necessary to show the people of Turkey that I was alive and doing my duties,” Ozek said, “and I wanted the national security staff to know that I have formulated a plan for a retaliatory strike at the PKK leadership. Now is the time to act. We must not delay.”

“I am impressed by your dedication to our country and your mission, General,” the prime minister said, “but first we must—”

“I have a full brigade of ozel tim loaded and ready to deploy immediately.” Ozel tim, or Special Teams, was the unconventional warfare branch of the Jandarma’s intelligence department, specially trained to operate close to or in many cases within Kurdish towns and villages to identify and neutralize insurgent leaders. They were some of the best-trained commandos in the world—and they had an equally notorious reputation for brutality.

“Very good, General,” Hirsiz said, “but have you discovered who is behind the attack? Who is the leader? Who pulled the trigger? Who ordered this attack?”

“Sir, that hardly matters,” Ozek said, his eyes widening in surprise that he had to answer such a question. His intense eyes and rather wild-looking features, along with his wounds, made him look anxious and excitable, almost savage, especially compared to the other politicians around him. “We have a long list of known PKK insurgents, bomb makers, smugglers, financiers, recruiters, and sympathizers. Internal security and the Border Defense Forces can pick up the usual suspects and conduct interrogations—let me and ozel tim go after the ringleaders.”