A Turkish officer climbed out of the tank, jumped down, walked to the front of the steps, and looked at Assad.
"Hafez Assad?"
"Yes."
The officer took out a document from his pocket and handed it over. Assad did not take it.
"Syrian President Hafez Assad, you are surrounded. Lay down your arms and come out to surrender. Our government guarantees your personal safety."
Assad looked at the document. "Lay down my arms? I have no weapons in my hands. The gun is with Maher."
The officer looked at Maher, at the pistol on his waist, the holster open, the handle exposed.
"Lay down your arms and come out to surrender."
Maher did not move.
"General, please lay down your weapon."
Maher looked at Assad. Assad closed his eyes for a moment.
Maher pulled the pistol from his waist, bent down, and placed it on Assad's knee. Assad looked down at the gun, a Makarov, nine millimeters, brought out the year the Soviet Union dissolved. The barrel was polished bright, and the clip was full.
