Illiguo, Baghdad Green Zone, Coalition temporary headquarters.
Local ti: 00:15.
The echo of the encrypted call seed to still linger in Major General Duke's ear.
He only took thirty seconds to make a decision.
Thirty seconds was enough for Duke to perform an initial threat assessnt.
The information provided by Tor Khan had an unsettling "authenticity" to it.
The details were overly specific: pinpointing the ambush location, explicitly stating the weapon model as "Russian Kornet anti-tank missiles," and even the number of assault team mbers Barzani planned to have impersonate Abu You Brigade soldiers.
This level of detail ant either a real top-secret plan was leaked or it was a perfectly fabricated lie.
Combined with the intelligence reports from the past seventy-two hours, which seed isolated yet subtly pointed in the sa direction, the likelihood of the forr skyrocketed.
These "anomalies" included the Kurdish "Freedom Fighters" (Peshrga) Third Infantry Brigade's unusual border maneuvers, with flimsy excuses; select personnel from Masoud's core guard unit being temporarily drawn for "special training," with sensitive timing; inexplicable fluctuations in communication traffic within and around Elbil; and even the US Army's own Signal Intelligence (SIGINT) had intercepted so highly encrypted, fragntary communications pointing to Barzani's inner circle.
These fragnts could perhaps be explained separately, but pieced together, especially after Tor Khan provided this key puzzle piece, an impending coup crystallized rapidly in Duke's mind.
He turned and forcefully pressed the internal communication button.
"Captain Miller, Colonel Anderson, get to my office imdiately. Highest priority. Repeat, highest priority."
The order was instantly transmitted through the encrypted intranet.
00:18.
The heavy blast door of the office slid open, two figures hurriedly entered one after the other.
"Sir?" Miller asked, breathing heavily, her voice strained from the run.
Duke wasted not a second on pleasantries or explanations.
"Miller, imdiately attempt to contact Chairman Masoud."
His orders were crisp and direct.
"Use all registered ergency contact channels to reach him, including his office's direct encrypted landline, personal encrypted satellite phone, personal cell, Chief of Staff's hotline. If all direct lines are unreachable or unanswered, imdiately contact his Chief Secretary Najib, Guard Captain Major Jalal, and if necessary, even try reaching his youngest son Bahaar. Within ten minutes, I want to hear Chairman Masoud Barzani's voice, awake, and in a secure environnt. Understand?"
"Understood, sir!"
Miller clicked her heels together, turned, and sprinted back to her own workstation outside the door.
Duke's gaze swiftly turned to Anderson, who had already connected the tablet computer to the main office display system, with data starting to stream down the screen like a waterfall.
"Frank, pull up records of all unusual troop maneuvers from the Kurdish Ard Forces—priority on those directly controlled by Barzani—over the past seventy-two hours. Cross-check satellite images, signal intelligence, and human intelligence reports. Priority targets: Third Infantry Brigade, Elbil Guard Battalion, Kurdish Regional Governnt (KRG) Communications Battalion, and any movent changes of Masoud's Private Guard."
Anderson's fingers were a blur on the virtual keyboard of the tablet.
"Retrieving now, sir. In fact... the comprehensive analysis division already flagged several 'items of interest' in yesterday afternoon's local ti briefing."
He brought up summaries of several docunts marked "Confidential."
"The Third Infantry Brigade moved towards Zahou 'in response to a potential infiltration threat from the Turkey border.' But according to our intelligence, the Turknistan border has been unusually calm recently, with no signs of any large-scale troop concentration or cross-border actions from Turkey. This threat assessnt... lacks evidence."
He swiped the screen, bringing up another set of comparative satellite images.
"About two platoons from the Guard Battalion left their regular station at dusk yesterday, heading fifty kiloters west of the city to an abandoned chemical plant for so-called 'urban anti-terrorism and VIP protection advanced training.' But the infrastructure at that location is severely damaged and completely unfit for such high-profile training, let alone VIP protection drills which would usually take place at simulated residences or governnt buildings."
Duke had already moved to the electronic map table.
The three-dinsional terrain map hovered in the air, depicting mountains, rivers, roads, and towns in different colors and resolutions.
His fingers swiped in the void, zooming in.
"Highway 1, northwest towards Kirkuk... mark the stretch from Elbil to Kirkuk about twenty kiloters out. Set the terrain map resolution to the highest level, display topographical details."
The map responded to his command, quickly zooming and rendering.
A winding two-lane highway appeared before everyone, like a gray ribbon winding through ochre hills.
The image was so clear that road repair marks were visible.
Here the road entered a relatively open valley, yet there were listone ridges on both sides, with heights ranging from fifty to one hundred ters, dominated by low shrubs and drought-resistant grasses, too sparse to provide effective concealnt.
The ridges ran parallel to the road, forming commanding shooting positions.
A perfect concealnt spot for ambushers and heavy weapons.
"A typical roadside ambush and 'kill zone' setup."
Anderson pointed to the location on the map and said, "The straight section of the road is about four hundred ters long, once a convoy enters it won't be able to turn quickly or escape. The high ground on both sides provides unobstructed firing angles. The riverbed can both conceal the attackers initiating the assault and hide anti-armor weapons. Once trapped in this pocket... without overwhelming air support or prior warning, the survival chances for a standard convoy are extrely low."
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