"Identifying four vehicles, sir. These are the trucks you're looking for."

BKN Field Agent Hussein Bajamal spoke to Colonel Prastio through comlink when a convoy of trucks led by a black minivan pulled up in front of a building several metres ahead of him. The building was a three-storey shophouse; its exterior minimally decorated and painted white, making it stand out amidst the old buildings with Arabic signs and letters in the area.

Three men, whose aquiline features suggested Arab descent, emerged from the building – each carrying a black crate before hauling them into the backs of the trucks. They spoke to each other as soon as they were finished.

"Hurry akhi. Everything has to be prepared on time."

"Wallah, I'm doing everything I can."

"Ustad Zahid expects us to finish in time, akhi. If not he'll get mad."

Two more men emerged from the building a few moments later. Both carried a crate larger than the ones that came before.

"There," the taller of the pair said, upon hauling the large crate into the back of the black minivan. "That's the last of 'em. Inform Ustad Zahid we're done."

"Na'am akhi," the other man replied.

The men were speaking in a language few Indonesians had ever encountered. An Arabic-based creole called Bahasa Jama'ah, created when Hadhrami sailors from Yemen arrived in the Dutch East Indies and started intermixing with the local populace. Had the agent in charge of spying on the convoy been anyone but Bajamal, he would be at a loss in trying to figure out their conversation.

Bajamal was a native of Pekalongan in Central Java, home to a sizeable Arab community. His superior and fellow Pekalongan, Inspector General Alattas, was the one responsible for recruiting him to serve in the ISB. It was Bajamal's background that had influenced the BKN Directorate's choice of assigning him to Empang, where rumours of radical Islamist attempts at expanding their network among the local Arab populace had surfaced.

He might've just stumbled upon such a conspiracy in the making.

From inside Bogor Aerodrome's command centre, Prastio was watching the entire scene play out through hologram. He also had Bajamal online through a separate channel.

"I detect suspicious activity around the convoy," Bajamal spoke into his comlink. "Shall I order the men to intercept?"

"Proceed," Prastio said. "You have my permission."

Bajamal switched his comlink's frequency to contact the BKN task force nearby. "This is Falcon to Task Force Beta. Targets up ahead at Pekojan and ready to move. Probably hostiles. Prepare to intercept. Over."

"Roger. Task Force Beta preparing to intercept. Over."

"Roger. Falcon out."

-----------

Prawiro arrived at the base commander's quarters just in time to meet Siregar standing over his desk.

"Sir, Imperial forces have just begun their attack. What's our course of action?"

Siregar raised his visor cap and looked Prawiro straight in the eye. "Tell your men to keep the armoury safe and keep the enemy out at all costs."

"We also have unauthorised access into the munitions depot moments before it exploded. Imperial infiltrators are present inside Tiger's Nest."

"I know," Siregar said. "Do not worry. Kusnanda and his Red Berets will deal with them."

Siregar's adjutant Ibn Jameel was also present through hologram. "Sir, Imperial Marines are attacking our positions in the north.

"Sir, it's just in. Enemy fighters are making a bombing run against our AA defences at the armoury. Their ground forces are about to break through."

"Get me Djunaedi," Siregar ordered. "It's time to call forth our allies into battle."

"We have...allies?" Prawiro asked. "How come do I not know?"

Siregar gave a sinister smile. "Don't worry. You'll see soon enough."

Ibn Jameel's holoimage dissipated and gave way to Djunaedi's likeness. "Your orders, sir?"

"Contact Ustad Zahid," Siregar said. "Inform him the time has come to exact revenge on the mushrikeen and fasiqeen."

"It will be done, sir."

-----------

"Sir, we've broken through the rebel defences."

"Good work, Sergeant. Give them some more. Let them taste the fury of the Empire."

Colonel Abimanyu Reksonegoro stayed inside the forward command post at Cigombong, watching and directing the progress of his troops through a holographic viewscreen. The bombing run moments earlier had disabled the rebels' AA defences and reduced their tanks and armoured vehicles into charred husks of metal. To the north, Task Force Kujang had begun to fight their way through the rebel-held mountain passes. According to his estimate, the battle would end in Siregar's capture or demise, with there being not much left of the pro-coup forces to mop up later on.

How he wished things had always been this easy...

At thirty-eight years of age, Reksonegoro was one of the Army's best and brightest officers. A sympathiser of the Fascist Alliance during the Civil War, he enjoyed a stellar career as a Captain in the elite Stormtrooper Corps, until he was caught expressing his misgivings about Emperor Byoma's use of armed militias with ties to the Muslim Brotherhood as proxies during the war against Israel. Being hauled before the Honour Court for making disparaging comments about the Emperor would've been tantamount to a death sentence, but Reksonegoro was spared that outcome due to a certain General's intervention.

The General was none other than Zack Assegaf, his highest-ranking superior.

Suddenly the desk's holoprojector lit up, breaking Reksonegoro out of his thoughts. Assegaf's holoimage hovered above the desk, a šajkača sitting snugly atop his head.

"Have the armoury defences been broken through?"

"Yes sir. Just in time."

"I see," Assegaf said. "What of Siregar? Has he tried to escape?"

"No sir," Reksonegoro replied. "I told my men to fire on every vehicle trying to break out just as you instructed. So far as I can tell, no one has escaped our kill zone."

"Very good. Keep your eyes open for signs of suspicious activity. Something tells me the real battle is just about to begin."

"Yes, sir."

Assegaf's likeness dissipated as he ended the transmission. Returning to the viewscreen, Reksonegoro watched as his men stormed a rebel command post and eliminated its defenders.

-----------

Rama and his squad moved quietly across the compound, hoping to evade the notice of both Siregar's forces and the Imperial task force attacking the armoury complex.

The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed above and ahead of them. The rebel tanks had already begun to retreat towards more defensible positions; their numbers greatly reduced after the bombing run just now. A trio of Su-30 SM strike fighters flew overhead, firing their missiles at what Rama assumed to be rebel reinforcements heading towards the armoury. With the rebels preoccupied with fighting off the Imperial attack, the Special Ops squad can now proceed to their next target unopposed.

"The main fortress lies just ahead," Rama said. "Prepare for entry."

The main fortress was not as well-defended as it had been before the attack. Most of the rebels guarding the site earlier were away fighting the Imperial forces that had broken into the armoury. All Rama and his squad needed to do now was to make their entrance and reach Siregar.

Of course, he must first eliminate the pair of guards standing at the doorway...

Rama and Sidarto moved in for the kill. Both opened fire at the guards from a safe distance. By the time the two rebels noticed it was already too late; their bodies crumpled to the ground before they could fire back.

The rest of the squad followed Rama and Sidarto as they made their way into the fortress. Rama then grabbed his datapad and typed in a few keys. A schematic of the main fortress flashed from the datapad's projector.

"The base commander's quarters lies on the fourth floor at the northern end of the fortress," Rama said. "Once we clear that floor, five of you will stand on the doorway connecting the floor to the rest of the building and hold off all incoming enemy units. The rest will follow me to Siregar's office and nail that son of a bitch. Any questions?"

"No sir."

"Alright," Rama said. "Let's get moving."

The squad was just about to move when they heard the sound of heavy footfalls coming down the corridor. Four rebel troopers, dressed in the Blood Stripes camo of Special Forces Command, emerged from the intersection ahead. They opened fire immediately, forcing Rama and the squad members closest to him to take cover in the nearest doorway.

"It's them," one of the rebels said. "Inform Brigadier Kusnanda we've found the enemy infiltrators."

-----------

"Aywah? Are you sure?"

"Na'am, Ustad Zahid. Marshal Siregar himself gave the order."

"Very well. I'll make the necessary preparations."

Zahid Abdat put down the handset immediately. After months of waiting, the head of Al-Irsyad's Bogor branch relished the chance to finally take his revenge on those who had transgressed the Deen of Allah and wronged his family.

The fate of Thalut, his elder brother, still cast a long shadow over Zahid. Oftentimes they used to engage in long discussions late into the night. Thalut would relate Zahid with tales of his colleagues and superiors; namely the stolid Army Chief Atmojo, the dutiful Operations Chief Hartono, and even the ambitious Chancellor Ali Hakim, who was once his close friend and confidant.

Of all the people whose names Thalut had mentioned, none had been reserved the most vitriol as Zack Assegaf. The Sayyid had been the bane of Thalut's existence for as long as Zahid remembered, even though he had yet to meet the man himself. Zahid knew well how much Thalut had loathed the Sayyids and their pretentious, self-important kind.

And his loathing was not without reason.

The founder of Al-Irsyad, Sheikh Ahmed Soorkati, had led a long struggle against the domination of the Sayyids and the yoke they had placed on Arabs who did not belong to their tribe. True to what Sheikh Soorkati had believed, many of the Sayyids had taken their alleged descent from the Prophet Himself for granted. Most had taken up the veneer of elitism to distinguish themselves from the rest of the Arabs, while others had chosen to embrace the un-Islamic ways of the Liberals and the Secular Nationalists.

Zack Assegaf, Thalut's nemesis, stands among the latter.

Thalut may be long gone, but Zahid's desire to avenge him remained as strong as ever. Only by removing his brother's greatest rival from the face of the earth could he be satisfied.

Zahid already had such a plan in motion. For the past few years he had been in contact with Thalut's deputy Djunaedi, who had arranged for secret training camps to be built across remote parts of Indonesia. Al-Irsyad high school students whom he personally handpicked and recruited were sent to those camps for training in basic firearms and combat skills. Those showing the most promise received more advanced training at the hands of experienced Army instructors in infiltration, sabotage, target reconnaissance and bomb-making. According to Djunaedi, they were to be a reserve force in case anything goes wrong with Siregar's erstwhile imminent coup.

Zahid picked up the handset for a second time and pressed a few buttons on his phone. "Akhi, come in."

"Yes, Ustad Zahid?"

"I need to speak with Abu Shamil."

"On it, Ustad Zahid. Abu Shamil will be with you shortly."

Fasiqeen (فاسق) = Derived from Fasiq. It is a Muslim term to refer to those who disbelieve and violates Islamic law. Here it is used as a pejorative by Siregar, an Islamist, to refer to the Imperial regime, which he sees as anti-Islamic and thus must be overthrown.

Šajkača – A cap common to the Balkan Peninsula, particularly Serbia. Despite its association with Serbian Nationalism, the Šajkača made its way across the Levant and Iraq, where caps of a similar mould were produced. A cap with a Šajkača-like shape was also found in Indonesia, especially among its ethnic Arab population, who got it from Iraqi influence.