Deadly Force (13 page)

At Camp Freedom, Mojombo went at once to the Vice President's tent and found the strangers. All the men stood at once.

“I'm Lieutenant Commander Murdock,” one man said. “You must be Mojombo Washington. I'm glad to meet you. This man is my good right hand, Jaybird, and over there is our motorcycle specialist, Luke Howard.”

“Yes, I'm Washington, and I fully intend to lead my people out of this wilderness of graft, corruption, and murder the present government is riddled with. I want you and your SEALs to help me.”

“Our primary mission is to aid and protect the Vice President. I don't imagine that you'd let us take him back down the trail tomorrow morning?”

“I can't let you do that. As you see, I have the guns and the men to stop you. No sense in your dying here in a foreign land. I want you to listen to me. Hear the plans I have for my people. You already know about the murdering, rotten, criminal element we have running our nation. I want you to help me with some ideas and strategies so I can move into Sierra City and take over the government and hold free and honest elections.”

“Mr. Washington,” Murdock said. “Do you remember your American history? It took our George Washington eight years to win his revolution. Are you ready to put in that kind of time here to win yours?”

“No. This is a much different situation. The government is holding on by its fingernails. They have used up all of their goodwill with the people. The Army is starting to become nervous and could break into pieces at any time. All we need is a few sparks and we can move this country into a new era.”

“Do you have the support of the people?” Murdock asked.

“We did today.” He told them how the people had done everything he'd asked them to do. “Today the party made a lot of new friends. All we have to do is show that we can lead them, and we'll have a grand march against the Government Building.”

“With the Army cutting down half of them with a hail of lead,” Jaybird said.

They talked until it grew dark. The generators began, and lights blossomed around the camp and in the Vice President's tent.

“I have some strategies that I believe will help push the President back and incite the Army to mutiny,” Mojombo said. “What can you tell me that might help with new ideas or attacks or new ways to discredit the President and win over the people?”

“The Vice President told me about his idea for you to move closer to the capital, and to solidify your support by the people as you go,” Murdock said. “You need to show control over half of the country and the villages. This way you can win new converts and men for your army.

“Staging your hit-and-run raids are tremendously effective. The Army will never know when the next might come and where you'll hit next. You could be shooting up the military installations every three or four days. Blow up facilities, barracks, burn down buildings, shoot up transport. Kill as few soldiers as possible and the Army brass will get the idea that you're not after them, but the Army power.”

“Fine, until we run out of ammo,” Mojombo said. “We don't have an unlimited supply.”

“Raid more Army ammo bunkers,” Luke Howard said.

Murdock watched Mojombo. He wasn't satisfied with the talk. “Mr. Washington. Let us confer here for a while
tonight, and tomorrow we'll have some ideas that might help out your cause. We'll make them as practical as possible and see if we can help set up and carry out some of the attacks. May we have a green light on that, Mr. Vice President?”

“I can give you that authorization. The White House might not agree, but they are one hell of a long way from here. Where is that U.S. Navy task force?”

“Should be a destroyer offshore sometime tonight or tomorrow,” Jaybird said. “Depends what choppers they have on board. Probably the smaller ones, the SH-60B used for sub-hunting, but we can adapt them.”

“All right, gentlemen, I'll leave you to your conference,” said Washington.

“Ten-hut,” Murdock barked as the Bijimi Loyalist Party leader stood to leave. The SEALs snapped to attention.

Mojombo grinned. “Hey, I couldn't even get into the ROTC. But thanks anyway. See you tomorrow.”

He left, and Vice President Adams motioned for the SEALs to gather around. “Now we get down to work. This great man needs our help. I'm convinced he can lead his people out of this quagmire the current officials have dumped the nation into. So, let's get our brains working and come up with some great attack plans that will leave old President Kolda reeling.”

“You weren't kidding about our being able to get in a few shots in anger against this bunch of crooks?” Howard asked.

“I don't see why not. As long as none of you get wounded, the brass back in Coronado will never know. At least, I won't tell them. Now let's do some tall thinking about this problem.”

 

 

The next day at 1
P
.
M
. the SATCOM stuttered out its bursts of electronics as the Vice President called Washington, D.C., and the embassy in Sierra City. When he had them both on the air, he gave them a report.

“Mojombo Washington is going to make his demands for my release at three o'clock today. Two hours from now. Ten
A
.
M
. your time. He wants the news media to listen to the demands in both D.C. and Sierra City. He says they will be detailed, and vital to his nation. He warns that he will also make a pitch for the world to swoop in on President Kolda and throw him and his criminal bunch of thugs out of office. Any questions?”

“I didn't think you were a hostage,” the President's Chief of Staff said. “The President is at a power breakfast right now, but I'll have him here for the announcement. It will be recorded. Yes, we can open the transmission to the press. We'll set it up shortly in the press room. Any idea what Washington's going to say?”

“Not the slightest. We'll be back in touch with you in about two hours.” They signed off.

“What's this demands business?” Murdock asked. “I thought you were his buddy and newfound friend.”

“I thought so too. He did say one of the reasons for inviting me to be his guest here was to focus worldwide attention on his country and the sorry leadership it has now. That must be part of it. I'm sure millions of people now know what and where Sierra Bijimi is who never had heard of it before my. . . . visit. . . . here at Camp Freedom.”

“Every news service in the world carried your story
big-time when you were snatched,” Jaybird said. “Right now there are about forty newspeople in Sierra City waiting for something to happen.”

“Sounds like it's going to today.”

Mojombo Washington said, “Knock, knock,” at the tent flap and slipped inside. He carried a clipboard with some papers on it.

“I hope you gentlemen slept peacefully and had a good breakfast and lunch. I try to feed my men well.”

“Yes, we've been treated fine,” Murdock said. “You really going to make some demands for Mr. Adams' release?”

“Absolutely, big-time demands. How is our time?”

“Almost two hours.”

“Radio all set up and the antenna checked?”

“All done, Mr. Washington,” Howard said.

“Good, I'll be back later. Sometimes I like to surprise folks and start things a little early. But not this time. I'll be back.”

At exactly 3
P
.
M
., Mojombo Washington took the handset from the vice president and began:

“Good morning to the United States and to the world. Today we have some serious business to attend to. It's my pleasure to report that Vice President Adams is well and in good spirits, and working with me for the freedom of my country, Sierra Bijimi.

“To further those ends, I have some demands that must be met before the Vice President can be returned to you. These demands are:

“One. Send in ten thousand United Nations troops to throw out the current government at every level and run the country until free elections can be held.

“Two. With supervision and direction by the United States, hold free and open elections within six months to elect new government officials at all levels within the country.

“Three. Deliver with United Nations supervision one million tons of food to be distributed to our nation's poor by U.N. personnel.

“Four. Direct World Bank interest-free loans in the amount of ten billion dollars available to Sierra Bijimi
industrial and business firms without involving any current government agencies.

“Five. Begin investigations by the World Court of all current government leaders on charges of bribery, theft, murder, and looting of the national treasury.

“Six. Begin an immediate airlift of small arms and ammunition sufficient to help the Bijimi Loyalist Party's armed forces to maintain order until the U.N. and U.S. forces are in place.

“These demands are not open to negotiation. A meeting of a high U.N. official and a high U.S. official and the leader of the Bijimi Loyalist Party should take place within three days.

“These demands are made on behalf of the downtrodden and exploited people of Sierra Bijimi, and not for the personal gain of any individual or group.

“I look forward to comments and action from the United Nations and the United States. Thank you.”

He turned off the mike. “Gentlemen, I'll be in my tent waiting for a reply.” He slipped out the flap and was gone.

“Wow,” Jaybird said. He had written down the demands as Mojombo made them. “Too much,” Jaybird said.

“He's asking the impossible,” Murdock said. “The U.N. never has invaded a country and taken it over. Not a chance. The World Bank won't make a single loan knowing the monetary corruption in this country.”

“So what you're saying is that if anything gets done down here to help Mojombo, it's up to us to do it. Me and your SEALs.” The Vice President scowled as he said it.

Murdock looked out the tent flap and at last nodded. “Looks like that's about it. So, let's get the rest of these plans we were working on finished so we can get into some action. I feel like I'm rusting at the switch here.”

“Now you're talking,” Jaybird said. “First we turn on the SATCOM and see Don Stroh's reaction and what the newspeople said.”

The moment he turned on the SATCOM, it spoke to him.

“Stroh calling Bull Pup. Stroh calling Bull Pup.”

“Yes, Bull Pup here. What's the reaction down there to the demands.”

“The press went wild. Every phone line out of here was jammed. Big news. Kolda must have heard about the demands coming and had a man with the newsies. From what we know now, he's launched eight to ten boats upriver loaded with troops. We have no count, but an estimation is there are about two hundred men on board. These are mostly small pleasure boats, but he's jammed lots of soldiers on them. Tell Mojombo that he probably can't stop this bunch with sniper fire from the river.”

Howard went to bring the Loyalist Party leader back. When Mojombo heard the news about the troops coming up the river, he ran out to the small clearing and bellowed out a command.

Men poured out of tents and the edge of the jungle and from near the river. Each man had a weapon with him. They fell in what was evidently platoon and squad order.

The SEALs moved out so they could hear. “. . . and the word is that ten boats are coming upstream. We go to Plan B. I want a hundred men with rifles along the riverbank. Run down the trail until you see them coming. Then find good cover and fire when they are in range.

“First target the boat driver, try to knock him out. If there is a cabin, riddle it with gunfire. We have to stop them on the river. Once they get to the trail up here, we have to move and move quickly.

“I want every man to draw three hundred rounds to fit his weapon. Do it now. We move out in five minutes.”

Murdock caught up with Mojombo in his tent digging out ammunition.

“We want to go with you. Three more rifles might help. We'll need AK-47's. You have any extras?”

Mojombo hesitated, then grinned. “Glad to have you aboard, Commander. I'll get you weapons. Bring your sub guns as well. We should be able to get about eight miles downstream before they show up. Then it will be target practice.”

“If they break through?”

“Then we run back up here and move everything we can carry. We had to do it once before. Let's go.”

 

Two hours later, the troops rested along the river. Murdock figured they had covered nearly ten miles. Murdock shifted the three hundred rounds of the 7.62mm in the small sack on his hip. The AK-47 he had was far from new, but it had been well taken care of. He had eight magazines for it with thirty rounds in each one. The Kalashnikov had two firing rates, full automatic at six hundred rounds per minute, or single-shot. He'd probably keep it on single-shot for any distance work.

They waited.

Twenty minutes later one of the lead scouts a half mile downstream called on one of the new handheld radios.

“They are coming,” Mojombo told his men. They were all on one side of the river, and each one had good protection behind a tree or a rock or a mound of dirt, so he could still see the river plainly and with a good field of fire.

Murdock and the other two SEALs had trees with trunks two feet wide. He had no idea what kind of trees they were, but he was glad they were there. The men had strung out five yards apart covering almost five hundred yards of shoreline.

Murdock and the SEALs were in the middle of the line. “Fire when you see a target,” Mojombo said on the radio, and the word was passed. “Let's put that first boat dead in the water and drifting back downstream.”

As he said it, Murdock heard a stuttering fully automatic AK-47 blasting away downstream. There was return fire, and Murdock heard at least one machine gun. As the boats powered upstream, more and more rifles took up the hunt.

The first boat never made it to Murdock. The pilothouse of the thirty-footer was blasted away, and no man dared try for the controls. It slued to port, barely missed a thirty-five-footer, and drifted downstream.

The volume of fire continued to grow. The first boat Murdock saw was a fishing craft, maybe forty feet long. It looked like it was made of solid wooden planks, and had absorbed hundreds of rounds. There was no glass in the cabin windows. Murdock concentrated on the small pilothouse, grazing his shots just over the windowsills, trying for some instruments or a hand stretched up to steer the
craft by a man sitting or lying on the floor. Murdock wished he'd brought a Bull Pup along on this run. They had five of them back at the embassy.

His rounds didn't faze the fishing boat. It kept laboring up the river at five knots. He moved his sights to the next boat, a smaller pleasure craft with no good protection built in. The small bridge had been cut with many rounds. Murdock saw a hand holding the wheel and another on what could be the throttle. He aimed at the wheel hand and sent six rounds into it. On the fourth round the hand jolted off the wheel, and Murdock gave it two more rounds for good measure. The small craft stalled against the current, then pivoted to the side and slammed into a twenty-foot fishing boat before it floated down the river with the current.

A swath of machine-gun rounds cut into the trees and leaves over the SEALs' heads, and Jaybird screeched in anger.

“Where's the fucking MG? Anybody see it?”

“Yeah, firing out of the steps down to the cabin on that blue and white boat,” Howard said. “About time we welcome him to the party.”

The boat was almost even with them and less than forty yards away on the far side of the river. Jaybird kicked his 47 into automatic, and sprayed the black hole of the steps area with the fifteen rounds left in his magazine. Then Howard picked away at the same spot with single shots. The machine gun didn't fire again from that position.

Only eight boats moved past Murdock. He heard men in the brush behind him evidently running upstream to have another shot at the boats. When the last one, a small pleasure craft with sheets of steel set inside the pilothouse, moved upstream past Murdock, he picked up and led twenty men into the jungle and north up the river. It was hard going through the trees, vines, and roots, but soon they could hear firing again. They went another hundred yards and moved toward the river. Now there were only six boats. That made fewer targets for the riflemen, and they slammed round after round into the boats as they came along. Another machine gun chattered, and it brought a surge in rifle fire that soon quieted the MG. The Loyalists kept pounding
the boats, which had nowhere to hide and no protection. Jaybird wondered where the two hundred troops were.

Murdock saw only four boats left. He and his men moved north again. By the time they came to the river, there was only one boat left, the large fisher with the solid hardwood construction. As the SEALs watched, the boat turned toward the far shore, then turned again and surged downriver with the current. All shooting stopped.

“Rally round.” The word came down the ranks, and they moved forward to a small clearing where Mojombo stood waiting for them.

“Good work, men. Excellent. We've turned around two hundred men at least hidden in those boats. Now, what about our own casualty report? Sergeants, check your men. I saw at least two wounded. Are there any more?”

Three more moved up with wounds. Two men carried a third man who had been hit in the head and died instantly.

“Get poles and make a litter. Use your shirts with the poles through the arms. Three shirts should do it. Carry our dead hero back to camp. Do we have our medic along? Check the wounds. We'll leave a six-man guard for you. The rest form up and move out. Time to get back to the camp. You men did magnificently well today. General Assaba is probably screaming and tearing out his hair. Another big defeat for him. Commander Murdock. Bring up the rear and keep up any stragglers. If any man needs the medic, have him wait on the trail. Let's chogie.”

Mojombo looked over at Murdock. “Oh, yes, I know the word. From the Korean War. One of my roommates at college said his father used the word all the time. I got used to it. See you back at Camp Freedom.”

An hour later at the camp, Murdock settled down to clean his adopted AK-47. Vice President Adams walked over and sat down on the ground beside him. The man holding the second-highest office in the United States of America had changed into cammies and they looked good on him, Murdock thought.

“You enlisted, Mr. Vice President?”

“I tried, but he wouldn't take me. I'm not even a citizen. I said I'd take dual citizenship, but he just laughed and said
I had a part to play, just be patient. I hear you turned back three hundred riflemen and twenty boats.”