The Peacemakers (15 page)

However, the Beggara were skilled fighters and returned fire as they mounted their horses and ran for safety. Two horses and their riders went down. One horse was up without its rider and bolted clear. Its tall rider stood up, unhurt, and looked calmly around.

BermaNur saw Jahel’s horse in full gallop with no rider, and without thinking, chased after it. He saw Jahel stand and veered to his right, racing for the tall sheik. Bullets zipped over his head and one ripped across his shoulders, barely breaking his skin. Jahel saw him and stood rock still, not moving as round after round missed their mark. He casually extended his right arm as BermaNur closed the distance. At the last possible moment, BermaNur slowed his horse and grabbed Jahel’s hand. The sheikh swung up in an easy motion and straddled the horse behind the saddle as BermaNur dug his heels into the horse. They raced for safety. “From today,” Jahel said, “you will join my bodyguard and ride beside me.”

Allston was on the radio. “Williams, get on board ASAP. Jumpmaster, tell everyone to get on board.” The Frenchman sat in the top hatch and keyed his handheld radio to relay Allston’s order. The two groups of legionnaires converged on the Hercules.

“Colonel Allston,” the jumpmaster said. “Colonel Vermullen wants to destroy the wrecked Hercules.”

From her side of the flight deck, Marci could see the wrecked C-130 and scanned it with her binoculars. “It’s pretty much burned out,” she told Allston.

Allston made a decision. “Leave it. We need to get the hell out of Dodge, like now.” He was worried the Janjaweed might circle back and catch them when they were taking off and at their most vulnerable. Again, the jumpmaster relayed the order to Vermullen. Loni Williams scrambled onto the flight deck, a very relieved man. “Got all your crew aboard, Williams?”

“Yes, sir,” Williams replied. Now they had to wait for the legionnaires to board. In the lull, Williams handed Allston a cell phone. “I got this off the bastard I morted.”

Allston examined the cell phone as the first of the legionnaires piled on board. “What the hell?” Allston wondered. “It won’t work out here.”

“Check the antenna,” G.G. said. “I’m guessing it’s for satellite communications. I’ve never seen a satcom that small. Pretty damn sophisticated.” Allston handed the satcom back to Williams.

The loadmaster’s very shaken voice came over the intercom. “Everybody is on board except Colonel Vermullen and four legionnaires holding the perimeter.”

“MacRay, are you back to stay?” The sergeant said that he was. “Good decision,” Allston replied. “Do another headcount while we turn around.” He played the throttles and turned the Hercules, aligning it on the narrow dirt path. Then he slowly backed it into position. “MacRay, get Vermullen and his shooters on board. Before takeoff checklist,” he told Marci. They quickly ran the checklist as the last of the legionnaires boarded.

“All accounted for,” MacRay said.

“Strap in,” Allston ordered. “We’re going home.” He pushed the throttles up and they were rolling. The big aircraft bounced over the rough terrain as they accelerated and the main gear thumped loudly in protest. The nose gear came unstuck and they were airborne. “Gear up.” He turned out to the east. “Marci, you got it.” He slumped into his seat and took a long pull at a water bottle as they climbed out and Marci cleaned up the Hercules. “Damn,” he muttered to himself.

“What’s the matter?” Marci asked.

“We’re down to four birds.”

“But we didn’t lose anyone,” she replied.

Not this time, Allston thought. How much longer would their luck hold?

EIGHT

E-Ring

T
he sharp click of Yvonne Richards’ heels echoed down the deserted halls of the Pentagon. It was early Saturday morning and she made a mental note to make sure her staff was at work. She pushed through the doors that led into Fitzgerald’s office. “The General is expecting you,” Mary said. “Go right on in.”

“Is he in a good mood this morning?”

“Yes ma’am.” The secretary beamed. “I heard him laugh.” Fitzgerald had coached her on how to react if Richards asked that question.

Richards didn’t want to be the person who spoiled the General’s day and re-evaluated her strategy. She gave the secretary the knowing smile that they were sharing an inner secret. “Thanks for the heads up.” She knocked on the general’s door and entered.

Fitzgerald waved Richards to a seat and kicked back in his chair. The Boys were starting to deliver and he knew what was on her mind. “What’s so urgent?”

“NSA intercepted a secure telephone call between the head of the peacekeeping mission in Addis Ababa and the Secretary General of the UN early this morning.” Both generals knew the National Security Agency had the UN wired for sound. “The Secretary General appears to be very upset.” She tried to read Fitzgerald’s body language, but there was nothing there and that bothered her. The way he concealed his reactions made it difficult for her to control the conversation. “It seems that Colonel Allston armed a C-130 and used it as a gunship.” She opened her leather folder and handed Fitzgerald a small-scale chart of the Sudan. “It happened at a makeshift refugee camp for Dinkas. It’s circled in red. The camp is located 180 miles west of Malakal, where the 4440th is based.” Fitzgerald’s left eyebrow twitched. The distance from Malakal was important, but he didn’t need to be told where the 4440th was based. She missed the twitch and plunged ahead. “The UN head of mission in Addis Ababa wants the 4440th withdrawn. He claims Allston’s aggressive actions have put the entire operation in jeopardy, and it is an incident the Government of the Sudan cannot, and will not, tolerate.”

“Are you aware the 4440th lost a C-130 at the same refugee camp yesterday?”

Richard’s eyes opened wide. “I hadn’t heard. Did we lose anyone?”

It was the right response. “No one was killed or seriously injured, but two Janjaweed almost took the loadmaster, Staff Sergeant Louise Colvin, hostage. One of the Janjaweed was killed and the other driven off. Later, over a hundred Janjaweed showed up.” He paused to let that sink in. “That number indicates they are now operating in force and growing. Luckily, Allston and a company of legionnaires arrived in time to drive them off. From this end, it appears that Colonel Allston’s ‘aggressive actions’ saved a few lives.” He didn’t remind her that a commander never loses the right of self-defense.

“Sir, this may be a chance to get our people out of there.”

“Not if the President wants to maintain a presence in the Sudan, which he does. Tell your contacts in the UN that if they want our support in the future, not to withdraw the 4440th.”

“Sir, we’re receiving too many contrary signals to make a commitment one way or the other. The UN wants us there but doesn’t like what we’re doing. The President wants to maintain a presence there but can’t tolerate casualties. And Allston seems to be a trigger-happy cowboy shooting up the place. We need stability if we’re going to support the UN in the Sudan.”

“Which is exactly why I’m sending you over there to evaluate the situation and report back with recommendations.”

Richards fought to control the panic that ripped at her. It was one thing to move in command circles and be a player in creating policy, but it was an entirely different matter to be caught up in actual operations where bullets were flying. The first stroked the ego and got you promoted, the second got you killed. “Sir, I know we haven’t heard from Major Sharp, but let me touch base with my contacts and find out what’s happening.”

“By all means. But I want you over there ASAP.”

Richards fought to keep her voice from shaking. She hadn’t joined the Air Force for this, but she knew there was only one answer. “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.” She fought for time. “I’ll need clearance from Khartoum, and that might take a few days.” A name came to her and she calmed.

“Make it happen,” Fitzgerald replied, “but get over there.” He watched her as she rushed out of his office. “Welcome to the real Air Force.” He opened a folder and went back to work. It was an unsigned authorization to provide the 4440th with side arms. He ground his teeth in exasperation. He had down-channeled Allston’s request almost three weeks before and not one officer in logistics had the balls to authorize it. He scribbled his signature in bold letters and wrote ‘Action today. Delivery within 72 hours.’ He crossed out the seventy-two and wrote ‘36.’