"Clancy, Tom - Op-Center 04 - Acts of War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Clancy Tom)

Thousands more died when Sadam Hussein used
poison gas on Kurds at Hal-abja.
The bloodshed was made worse by infighting among the
various Kurdish sects--battles over land, over
tradition, over the degree of interaction that would be
tolerated with non-Kurds.
Finally, a truce was called by the ailing Mullah
Mustafa Mirza, leader of the small but powerful
Mirza clan in Iraq. He asked for unity.
And the charismatic Walid al-Nasri, leader of the
PKK, the Kurdistan Workers Party, agreed
to help provide it.
Over the past few months, Ibrahim had spent
all of his free time in Haseke, a quiet city
to the southwest, working with the local patriots in the
PKK of which his brother was an officer. As
he made sure printing presses and cars were working as
they were supposed to, Ibra him had listened
eagerly to Mahmoud's views about establishing a
homeland. As he helped carry guns and
bomb-making material under the cover of night,
Ibrahim had listened to their bitter debates about
unification with other Kurdish factions. As he
relaxed after helping to train small groups of
fighting men, he'd listened as arrangements were made
to meet with Iraqi and Turkish Kurds, to plan
for a homeland, to select a leader.
lbrahim put his sunglasses back on. The
world became dark again.
Today, the only reason most people cross
al-Gezira is to travel to Turkey. That was
true for Ibrahim, though he wasn't most people.
Most people came with cameras to photograph the
bazaars or the World War I trenches or the
mosques. They came with maps and picks for
archaeological digs, or with American jeans or
Japanese electronics to sell on the black
market.
Ibrahim and his team came with something else. A
purpose. To return the waters to al-Gezira.
Monday, 1:22 p.m., Saniiurfa,
Turkey
Attorney Lowell Coffey II stood on the
shaded side of a nondescript, six-wheel white
trailer and touched the hem of his red neckerchief.
He dabbed away the sweat that was dripping into his
eyes. He silently cursed the hum of the
battery-powered engine that told him the air-conditioning
was running inside the van. Then he stared across barren
terrain, which was dotted with dry hills.