Or, he thought grimly, help him sleep permanently.
Roya’s arms were crossed and she looked at him defiantly when Arif returned to her station. “So, was I right?” she asked.
This time Arif couldn’t help it, and did smile. “Yes, you were,” he said. “I appreciate your help with my questions.” There was a notepad on the station’s counter, and he quickly wrote down his name and phone number. “If anything suspicious happens at any time, day or night, please call or text me at this number. Please also share my name and number, and my interest in the Supreme Leader’s security, with nurses who are in charge here at other shifts.”
Roya nodded. “You are not speaking with the hospital administrators?” she asked.
“No,” Arif replied, shaking his head. “Since we believe the threat is coming from within the Pasdaran, we don’t want to alert them to our interest.
I feel sure you will not do so, but doubt the same can be said about your administrators.”
Roya nodded, and then hesitated. “If men come here to kill or abduct the Supreme Leader, they’re not going to want witnesses. How worried should I be?” she asked.
Arif looked at her soberly, and replied, “Remember, contact me at any time, day or night.”
Technical Sgt. Josh Pettigrew was still trying to get used to being back behind a drone control console. Military police sent by the General in command of USMTM had arrested him, and escorted all his students to their quarters before they’d been able to do anything with the Reaper drones. He’d been locked into one of the MP interview rooms for hours, but nobody had ever shown up to question him.
Then, with no explanation he’d been taken back to his classroom where all his students were waiting for him, and told to await further orders. Finally they’d come, and left Pettigrew even more confused. They said he was to provide “all aid and assistance possible” to the Royal Saudi Air Force, and that he would supervise his students as they operated the Reapers they had just sold the Kingdom “as they carried out a mission of national self-defense.” For good measure, they said his students had now graduated, and were now to be considered fully qualified Reaper operators.
All US military orders specified the command authority that had issued them. These came from the National Command Authority. Pettigrew had heard of NCA orders, but never seen them. It meant they’d come straight from the White House.
Once Pettigrew gave the orders some thought, he realized his next step should be to find out what the RSAF wanted him to do. While he was trying to figure out the right way to contact the RSAF, the problem was solved for him by the ringing of the secure phone on his drone command console.
Pettigrew picked up the phone and answered it. The voice on the other end said, “Sargent Pettigrew. My congratulations and thanks to you and your students on your success in stopping the attack on Riyadh. I am Suliman al-Johani, deputy commander of the Royal Saudi Air Force. Have you received your orders?”
“Yes, sir,” Pettigrew replied. “We stand ready to provide whatever assistance we can, sir.”
“Excellent,” Suliman said. “I understand you have four Reapers available, correct?”
“Correct, sir,” Pettigrew replied. “They’re fueled, armed and ready to go.”
"Very good,” Suliman said. “How are they armed?”
Pettigrew paused, and said, “Just a moment, sir.”
Pettigrew motioned to Mousa, who was the closest student. “Did you see whether anyone changed the loadout we did on the Reapers earlier today?”
Mousa shook his head, but Fadil replied, “I did, sir. No change, four Hellfires on each.”
Pettigrew pressed the hold button again, and said, “Sorry, sir. Just making sure I’m giving you the right answer. Each one has four Hellfires.”
Suliman asked, “Am I right to think you could add two Paveways IIs to each Reaper, on top of the Hellfires? Or replace the Hellfires with Paveway IIs?”
“That’s correct, sir. We’d need to use GBU-12 Paveway IIs which we’ve got here on base and are the 500-pound model, to stay under the Reaper’s maximum load, but that would give you the totals you want,” Pettigrew replied.
“Good,” Suliman said. “I want one Reaper to have two Paveways added to the four Hellfires, and the other three Reapers to have six Paveways and no Hellfires. Here’s where and when I want to have them deployed…”
Roya Maziar frowned as she heard the faint ringing of a cell phone. Since the Supreme Leader’s guard was the only other person on this floor to have one besides her, she knew that’s who had to be receiving a call.
As far as Roya knew, no guard had ever received a call while on duty. She didn’t think that was because anyone was concerned about distracting the guards from their important work. On the contrary, she thought it was because nobody cared about the men sent to guard someone who had been in a coma for months, even if he was the Supreme Leader.
So why now?
The answer came a few minutes later when the guard emerged from the Supreme Leader’s room, stalked down the hallway, and without so much as a glance at Roya pressed the button for the elevator. It had not been called since Roya arrived for her shift, and so opened immediately. Just like that, the guard was gone.
For the first time since Roya had started working at the hospital, she was completely alone. The other rooms on her floor had been cleared when the Supreme Leader arrived, and a man in a coma obviously didn’t count as company.
Roya immediately remembered the officer who had said to contact him anytime if she saw anything suspicious. Well, she thought, this certainly qualifies. Roya sent a brief text explaining what had happened, and was pleased when the officer replied almost immediately that he was on his way.
After a bit more thought, Roya decided to call her friend Farzeen, who she knew was at the desk in the hospital lobby.
“Farzeen, how are you?” Roya asked first, as custom demanded.
“I am well,” Farzeen replied. Then, getting immediately to the point, she asked, “Wasn’t that the Supreme Leader’s guard who just walked past me?
And isn’t it going to be more than an hour until his replacement shows up?
And aren’t you all alone up there? Aren’t you worried?”
Finally, Farzeen paused for breath. “But I guess maybe that’s why you were calling me? Would you like some company? I can have the hospital security guard call if a patient shows up, and be back downstairs in a minute.”
Roya smiled. Farzeen really was a good friend, even if talking to her sometimes felt like trying to stop a runaway train. “Yes, Farzeen, that would be great. I’ll make us some tea. See you in a few minutes.”
As she made the tea, Roya reflected on how lucky they were to work at a hospital that was not only one of the best in the country, but also one that specialized in cardiac and circulatory disorders. It spared them from the endless parade of ambulances with emergency cases at most other hospitals, and also let them work with some of the country’s best doctors.
Who, unfortunately, had egos to match.
The elevator announced its arrival with a chime and Farzeen burst out from it, waving her hands and saying in a singsong voice, “I’m here!”
Roya smiled and said, “Yes, indeed you are. Please, have a seat and let me get you some tea.”