Strike Force

“So, you old fart, the new generation has you a little bewildered and flustered, eh?” the orderly asked. Yassini looked at him in surprise…and saw none other than General Hesarak Buzhazi smiling back at him. He was dressed in servants’ robes and pants, but he could see his combat boots under his robe and perhaps the bulge of a weapon underneath. “Disappointed no one wants to fly helicopters or go up against stealth bombers and smart missiles anymore?”

“What in hell are you doing here, you crazy idiot? The entire country is out looking for you.”

“The Academy is the last place they’d look, Hoseyn,” Buzhazi said. He looked at Yassini seriously. “I told you they were going to retaliate against you, Hoseyn, and now here you are, on house arrest. Why are you just standing around like some pea-brained sheep waiting for the slaughter? You should get out of here now, before you have more than just one brainless snot-nosed komiteh goon on your ass.”

“Did you kill him too?”

“I didn’t have to. He is gone beating off or something — he thought you were just going out on your evening constitutional and left. That’s the kind of idiots Zolqadr has working for him. Why the hell don’t you get away from here, Hoseyn? They think you’re just a scared tottering old man. Save yourself while you can.”

“I should take career management advice from you, the most wanted man in the entire damned country? That would be hilarious if it wasn’t so tragic. What in the world are you doing here?”

“You invited me, remember? ‘Let’s march off a few’—that’s what you said. I’ve been waiting for you ever since.”

“No, I mean, what are you still doing in Iran?” Yassini asked. “Haven’t you done enough damage to the country?”

“I’m not finished, Hoseyn,” Buzhazi said. “The Pasdaran is like a typhoon — as long as it’s unopposed, even by the smallest hill or tree, it will grow stronger, its path will become more unpredictable, and it will destroy more and more lives. I plan to stop it.”

“You have about as much chance of doing that as stopping a real typhoon,” Yassini said. “Can’t you see that?”

“Some things are worth dying for, Hoseyn: freedom from betrayal, freedom from persecution, freedom to live our lives with dignity and honor. I’m doing something about it. What I don’t understand is how you can even stand the stench of being around Pasdaran butchers after what happened last night.”

“I heard,” Yassini said gloomily. “Typical Pasdaran tactics — disregard friendly forces in the target area, disregard taking prisoners, and kill everyone in the area. Monstrous.”

“‘Monstrous?’ That’s all you have to say? There was an entire company of security guards in that warehouse complex, some just teenage conscripts with barely any training! They’re all dead! They were obliterated in a massive artillery attack designed to kill every living thing in the entire area!”

“I had nothing to do with planning, authorizing, or executing that attack.”

“I never thought you did, Hoseyn, but the question is: what are you going to do now?”

“What can I do about it?”

“You’re the damned chief of staff, Hoseyn!” Buzhazi retorted. “Call out the army, disperse them to operational areas outside the cities, and tell Zolqadr and whoever else is in charge that you will send them into the cities and crush the Pasdaran if they don’t lay down their arms and stop this madness!”

“They will never lay down their weapons,” Yassini said. “The fact is, Hesarak, that you have driven them to execute such extreme operations! They would never have done it if you and your insurgent forces had just gotten out of the country instead of embarking on this insane plot.”

“Hoseyn, this is only the beginning,” Buzhazi said. “They will stop at nothing now. They won’t just be chasing me — they’ll be going after every soldier and soon every civilian that doesn’t toe the fundamentalist line just so. You’ve condemned millions of Iranians to death because of your inaction. And when they’re done in Iran, they’ll spread out over the entire region, perhaps the entire planet.”

“Don’t blame this on me, Buzhazi! It’s you who started this, not me! The deaths of the innocents will be on your head, not mine!”

“At least I’m doing something about it, Hoseyn. My death won’t be as horrible as the one you are condemning Iran and the world to with your silence and inaction.” Yassini didn’t — couldn’t — answer that. “Do it, Hoseyn — now, tonight, before it’s too late. Call out the army and disperse them to the countryside. The Pasdaran is too involved in hunting me down to guard every base across the country. You’ll only get one chance at this. Do it tonight.”

“That’s treason, Hesarak,” Yassini said. “That’s a crime, punishable by public beheading.”

“The people and the armed forces will suffer much worse if the ayatollahs unleash the Pasdaran on the cities,” Buzhazi said. “Do it, now.”