Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [25]
"Yes, sir," Pupshaw replied.
The private stepped aside and Mary Rose opened the door. She smiled pleasantly as a short, light-skinned man entered. He was powerfully built, with a neatly trimmed mustache and deep-set eyes that were also the darkest Mary Rose had ever seen. His curly black hair was damp and pressed down. From a motorcycle helmet, she guessed. He wore a.45 in a belt holster.
Seden returned her smile. He bowed his head. "Good afternoon to you, miss," he said. His English was thickly accented, with the lengthened vowels and clipped consonants of his native tongue.
"Good afternoon," Mary Rose replied. She had been warned that Turkish men, even enlightened ones, would be no more than courteous to her. Though Turkey had long ago granted equal rights to women, equality was a myth in the minds of many Muslim men. As Op-Center's staff psychologist Liz Gordon had told her, "The Koran decrees that women should always cover their heads, arms, and legs. Women who do not are regarded as sinners." Yet this man had a warm smile for her. He seemed to possess a sweet, natural charm.
Colonel Seden turned to General Rodgers and saluted. Rodgers returned the salute. Seden took two steps toward Rodgers and handed the general a crisply folded yellow paper.
"My orders, sir," Seden said.
Rodgers looked at them quickly, then turned back to the screen. "You've come at an opportune moment," the general said. "We have one of your choppers on the screen here." He pointed to a sharp red object moving across an ever-changing green grid.
"That's strange," Seden said. "Military helicopters usually travel in pairs for security. Do you know where this one is from?"
"It came in from Mardin."
"Border patrol," said Seden.
"Yes," said Rodgers. "The radio operator there has been trying unsuccessfully to raise it. What kind of armaments do you put on those ships?"
"Typically, General, there is a machine gun and a side-mounted rotary cannon," Seden replied. "Usually the cannon is 20mm with a rotating barrel with one hundred fifty or so shells."
"Where could it be headed in such a hurry?" Mary Rose asked.
"I don't know that," Seden replied. He didn't take his eyes off the screen. "There's nothing out that way. There are no military targets and the villages are small and not strategic in any way."
"You're sure there are no terrorist groups based in any of them?" Rodgers asked.
"I'm certain," Seden said. "Nor has there been any movement to the region. We watch all of them very closely."
"Couldn't this simply be a hijacking?" Mary Rose asked. "Someone hides the chopper before it can be spotted, then uses it later for any number of things."
"That is unlikely," replied Seden. "It is easier for helicopters to be purchased in Russia or India and smuggled into our country in pieces."
"In pieces?" Mary Rose said.
"On boats, by air, or by land, amidst shipments of machine parts," Seden said. "It isn't as difficult as you might think."
"On top of which," said Rodgers, "the Turkish Air Force is certainly looking for this chopper by now."
"But not there," Seden said. "Somewhere along its original flight plan."
"We've picked it up," Mary Rose said. "Other radar is sure to. It will be found before very long."
"Obviously, whoever has it doesn't care," Rodgers said. "They're planning to use it now. Colonel, do you want to let the Air Force know where it is?"
"In another moment," Seden said. "I'd prefer to tell them where it's headed rather than where it will not be when they arrive."
Mary Rose gave a sideward glance at the officer. She caught Mike Rodgers doing the same. She could tell from his expression that the general was thinking the same thought she was, Is Seden interested in gathering intelligence or in delaying them?
The colonel watched as the map scrolled with the chopper. "Can I possibly see a larger view of the area?"
Rodgers nodded. He touched a key, and an expanded view of the region appeared on the screen. The chopper was now a small red dot.
Seden watched the screen for a moment and then said, "General,