African Dragon (18 page)

44.

The Bush near Zabanga’s Residence

Cascaes, Julia, Hodges, and Jones headed to the rendezvous point quickly, winded and adrenaline pumping, but clear headed.

“We need their vehicle. We’ll head back to the house. I think we got them all, but move slowly. Find the keys, grab the truck, and get our asses to Lubumbashi to find that plane,” said Cascaes.

“There’s an easier way, Chris,” said Julia. She pulled out a card for the pilot’s charter service. Why not just have him pick us up and fly us back from
here
?”

Chris looked at her, feeling somewhat dumbfounded. “You think we could just call his cellphone?”

Hodges laughed. “Yo, Skipper—we have the satellite phone. We can call control in Langley; they call the pilot and say they’re us, and tell the guy to return to where they dropped us.”

Cascaes smiled, then to everyone’s shock, kissed Julia on the lips. “Brilliant!” he said with a laugh. “Hodges, do it now!”

It took almost ten minutes to set up the phone and track down Dex Murphy to explain what they needed. He was quick to follow along, didn’t ask questions, and placed the call to a cell phone in Lubumbashi himself. He told the pilot that he needed to be picked up at the same location, saying he was Chris Cascaes, and the pilot happily obliged, reminding him that, “I told you there was nothing out there.”

Dex called Chris back via satellite phone and confirmed their exit. The foursome moved back carefully to where they had been dropped off and set up a quick perimeter, watching all sides with night vision for movement. Zabanga’s guards were all dead. Only his chef remained, hiding under a table in the kitchen with no intention of doing anything until the sun came up.

Chris and Julia ended up moving closer in the dark. She leaned closer and whispered to Chris, “You blew our cover!”

He didn’t get it at first, then realized he had kissed her in front of Hodges and Jones. “Well, then screw it, if it’s already blown,” he whispered back and kissed her for a long minute. They both smiled in the dark.

“You’re
bad news
, mister,” she whispered.

“I love you,” he whispered back. “Want to marry me?”

He could see she was wondering if he was serious. “I’m totally serious,” he whispered. She smiled in the dark and moved closer until her shoulder was pressing against his. “Did you get the ring?” she said with a giggle.

“Well, we
are
in Africa. Maybe I can go dig for a diamond,” he whispered back.

“You can dig up anything you want, the answer is yes. But can we get home alive first?”

He kissed her quickly and said, “Yes. They continued to lay on their stomachs in the dark, scanning with night vision goggles as they waited for the plane.

“You’re so romantic,” said Julia quietly. “Maybe for our honeymoon, you can take us to Iraq or Somalia.” They both chuckled in the dark. Their relationship was anything but normal.

The hour passed quickly, with occasional kisses being sneaked, and Hodges and Jones checking in from time to time. When the plane could be heard, Jones and Hodges threw flares along a straight line in the level grass so the pilot knew where to land in the dark. It was a hairy landing for any pilot. This guy was pretty good after all. His plane came to a stop and the foursome ran to it. The pilot was shocked when his casually dressed passengers reappeared looking like the combat warriors they were, with weapons still out. He was alarmed, to say the least. He began waving them off.

“No, no! I don’t need any trouble!” he screamed over the drone of his prop.

Julia ran to him and smiled. “It’s okay!” she yelled. “No problem here, we just had to make sure everything here was okay. We’ll explain on the way back…”

As she spoke, the men piled in before the pilot could protest. The fact that their weapons were still out didn’t give the pilot much choice. He protested and tried his best to get them out of his plane, but he relented, turned the plane around and took off into the light breeze.

“We aren’t going to Lubumbashi,” said Cascaes. “Plug in coordinates for Kinshasa.”

“Kinshasa?” exclaimed the pilot. “I don’t have enough fuel to get to Kinshasa! It’s eight hundred miles!”

“You can stop in Kananga,” said Cascaes quietly. “We’re going to Kinshasa. Just outside the city actually. I’ll pick a place when we get close. No screwing around, buddy. And just so you know, the fate of your whole country rests on you getting us there. We are trying to prevent a coup, you understand? A war. Consider yourself the official Air Force of the Democratic Republic of Congo.”

“
What
war?” asked the pilot, very unsure of what he had gotten himself into.

“You ever hear of the PAC? The People’s Army of Congo?”

“No,” he said warily.

“Well, the Chinese government has built an army to take down your president and prime minister. The PAC will be attacking the capital within a few days. We need to get there before they do, you understand? ”

“President Kuwali and Prime Minister Gugunga are good men. Why would anyone want another war here? We
’
re still recovering from the last Congo War.”

“Money, power, raw materials—the usual story. Just get us there. You
’
ll be well paid. And then I have another job for you.”

Cascaes sat back and called Mackey from the satellite phone he assembled in the rear seat on Julia
’
s lap. They exchanged glances as he touched her legs. Mackey picked up the phone after a few rings.

“Mac, you okay out there?”

“Roger that. We
’
re fine. Took out an enemy patrol, and Moose and crew just got back intact. We
’
re going to truck it over to the train station and try and beat the PAC to Kinshasa. Where are you? What
’
s the story with Zabanga?”

“We
’
re in a plane heading to Kinshasa. The target was eliminated,” he said, not wanting to use Zabanga
’
s name in front of the pilot.

“A plane?”

“Yeah, I just created the first Congolese Air Force. Made this pilot a general,” he said loudly. The pilot heard him and smiled for the first time this trip.

“We will refuel in Kananga and be in Kinshasa by sun-up. The PAC will be at least two days out. I
’
m going to try and arrange for an airlift for you guys after we arrive. Keep moving west and keep track of where you are. I will hopefully be sending you a lift.” He eyed the pilot, who heard him and looked worried.

“Okay, stay in touch. And stay out of sight in Kinshasa.”

“Yeah, we
’
ll stay outside the city until we have a plan put together. Ten thousand against a dozen…we need a
really
good plan. Out.
”

45.

Shen Xun-jun’s PAC Forces

Shen Xun-jun called Wong Fu-jia from his command vehicle as they moved westward in a seemingly endless convoy to Kinshasa. The vehicles were a mixture of Chinese “deuce and a half” cargo trucks and old pickup trucks, many with machine guns mounted in the bed. All of the trucks were overfilled with PAC soldiers. Before leaving the camp, the trucks had been covered with tarps with large Red Cross symbols on them. “China Relief Mission” was written underneath in five languages. Shen Xun-jun led the procession in his Jeep, the only vehicle that looked military, but armed escorts in this poor country were a common sight.

Shen Xun-jun held the same rank as Wong Fu-jia, but had seniority, and was therefore running the operation as commander of all forces. Wong Fu-jia’s PAC forces were smaller than Shen Xun-jun’s, but he had been fortunate enough to organize mercenaries and professional soldiers, compared with Shen Xun-jun’s large army that couldn’t shoot straight. Wong Fu-jia’s aid answered the radio and handed it to his general.

Shen Xun-jun updated Wong Fu-jia that they were assembled and heading west. He also informed him that Americans were snooping about and had visited the mining operation. He had sent Sergeant Major Han with a small patrol to find the Americans and bring them to him, but so far, had been unable to make radio contact. He was getting nervous about that.

Wong Fu-jia and his rebel force were currently camped twenty miles south of Kinshasa in a heavily wooded area to avoid being spotted. His troops were ready; they just needed the RPGS, mortars and heavy machine guns that Shen Xun-jun would be bringing.

Shen Xun-jun
advised
Wong Fu-jia
that once they made it to Kinshasa, Nigel Ufume would be leading a small group into the city at night to move on the
president
while he was at his residence. With a well-coordinated attack using heavy weapons, they could destroy the entire compound before the
president
s guards had time to launch a counter-attack. This would happen at oh-four-hundred when almost everyone would be sound asleep. By the time the sun came up, the larger force under Major
Wu
would be seizing the
“
Palais du Peuple
,“ Congo
’s version of The Capital. Li’s troops would execute everyone they saw, inflicting heavy enough casualties in the government to cause chaos and lack of leadership.

Wong Fu-jia
would then move in at daybreak with his force, at the fastest speed possible, killing everything that moved as they made their way towards the presidential palace. By inflicting huge casualties on the civilian population, the PAC could cause enough panic to demoralize whatever government forces might still be forming up under whatever leadership was left. With the
president
and
prime minister
both dead, the Palais du Peuple under PAC control, and the city burning, Shen
Xun-jun
anticipated the overthrow would be over by sunset. The civilians would flee the city, and the official army would be right behind them in tatters. The PAC would then declare themselves as the new interim government, and call for an immediate election. The election would be rigged so that Mboto Kangani would be the new president, and Lucien Zabanga
prime minister
. And they would answer to China.

Up on the side of the small mountain overlooking the lights of Kinshasa, Wong Fu-jia strolled through his small army. He watched the mercenaries sharpening their knives and machetes and cleaning their weapons, and felt extremely confident that his men would roll through the city. The hardest part would be maintaining their discipline to avoid the raping and pillaging that was so common in the African wars. Once these men smelled blood, they would be difficult to control. He smiled. In the worst case scenario, he would simply allow them to do whatever they wanted. They would remain loyal and happy, and Wong Fu-jia would be a hero of the Chinese people.

46.

Sunrise Near Kinshasa

The pilot was exhausted and worried, but kept it to himself. Julia had fallen asleep against Chris’s shoulder, and he was happy to have her next to him so cozily. Hodges was out cold across the center two seats, and Jones was sitting up in the co-pilot’s seat. The pilot had stopped once in Kananga to refuel, which had been a little hairy since the team was in uniform, but it was dark and they were in and out quickly. It was almost five-thirty in the morning, and the pink sunrise was spreading across the purple African sky.

The pilot spoke out loud to anyone who was listening. “We’re getting close to Kinshasa. I’ll have to radio in to the airport soon. I never filed a flight plan for this airport and they aren’t expecting us. What do you want me to do?”

Cascaes was in the rear row of the six-seater. “Head northwest and look for a place to set down. I’d like to be within five miles of the city limits, to the south, but not too close to any population.”

The pilot banked right and headed northwest, dropping his altitude to only a thousand feet. He scanned beneath him, trying to find a smooth place to set down that seemed isolated. There were small mountains just west of their location, with many small areas of broken forest south and west of the city between the mountains and the city limits of Kinshasa. It would be remote enough for his passengers, but finding a flat level field would take some time. The landing at night had been terrifying the night before, and he never told the team just how close he came to crashing. It had been the bounciest, hardest landing of his twelve year flying career, and certainly couldn’t have been very good for his plane. The pilot flew low and slow, studying his instruments and the ground below him.

Julia woke up and remembered where she was, then gave Chris a little squeeze. Hodges happened to turn around at that precise moment and “busted” her. She blushed.

“Just stretching,” she said.

“I had night vision, remember?” he said with a laugh. She didn’t get it at first, then realized that Hodges and Jones probably saw everything that was going on “under the cover of darkness” last night while they waited for the plane.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh. “What happens in the field stay in the field,” he said. “Classified.”

“Roger that, Skipper,” he said, and turned back around. They all began looking out the windows, scanning the land below them for a suitable place to land and wait for Mackey and his team. Hodges mumbled a quiet, “holy shit,” and ripped into his backpack, pulling out his sniper scope and removing the lens caps quickly. He looked back down through the scope and scanned the forest below them.

Cascaes announced to the pilot and his crew, “Come on, general. Land this plane. Once we hit the ground, we hunker down and stay out of sight all day until the rest of the team gets up here and links up. Hodges, get Dex back on the phone. The PAC could be here by tomorrow if they travel all night.”

Less than a mile to their west, the PAC force under Wong Fu-jia force hid in the woods, looking out to the city of Kinshasa.

47.

White House Situation Room Midnight

The joint chiefs stood up when the president hustled in with the secretary of state and his chief of staff. Dexter Murphy stood next to an air force general, with whom he had been discussing air assets. Additional staffers had not been invited, and the meeting was considered top secret.

The president asked everyone to be seated and opened the briefing. Dex Murphy stood and approached a map of the Republic of Congo that was displayed on a very large screen. The image was a live satellite picture, superimposed with city names, major roads, international boundaries and major geographical features. As intelligent as the President of the United States was, his dealings and knowledge of the PRC was limited.

“Mr. President, the Chinese have mobilized the PAC forces and are heading west towards Kinshasa at this moment. Our satellite teams have them here…”

He dialed in a computer and the screen zoomed in on a road near the town of Kananga.

“We’ve confirmed with our limited assets in-country that a very large convoy of trucks is headed west. They’re using Red Cross relief as cover, but it’s them, one-hundred percent.”

The room watched as Dex zoomed in and showed a live view of a convoy, several miles long. “We estimate their force, based on observations on the ground by our own team, to be somewhere between eight and ten thousand troops. These aren’t highly trained soldiers, but they’re heavily armed with new Chinese weapons and ammunition. Most likely have a large supply of mortars, RPGs, heavy machine guns, et cetera. The only good news is one of the Chinese transports crashed while landing, and apparently had light armor vehicles, which they haven’t been able to replace.”

Dex turned around and faced the room, placed the laser pointer on the table, and took a breath. “The bottom line is this, Mr. President. You have to make a decision
now
about whether or not you want to prevent the current government from being overthrown. The Chinese will have their own people running things within a week, unless we prevent it now. Once the Chinese are entrenched with the PAC government, they have access to the world’s largest supplies of uranium, plutonium, and many other rare earth elements that are strategically important. The gold, platinum and diamonds are just a bonus.”

The president nodded thoughtfully and sat in silence a moment. He then addressed the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “General Rogers, if we were to take action to intercept the convoy, what are our options?”

The general cleared his throat. “We can certainly destroy the column before it gets to the city—there are plenty of open areas where we can minimize any chance of civilian casualties. But we can’t shoot up a bunch of Chinese officers and think there won’t be major consequences.”

The president smiled. “General, I spoke with the general secretary yesterday and voiced my concerns over Chinese military actions in the DRC. President Jin was very clear that there are
no
Chinese military advisors there. They have an aid station, only. That being the case, if we were to destroy the PAC forces en route to the capital, we know we won’t be hitting any Chinese officers.” He folded his hands and looked seriously at the general. “Options?”

General Rogers nodded. “PHIBRON Five, our amphibious assault squadron is four hundred miles off the coast with the 11
th
Marine Expeditionary Force. That’s over fifteen hundred combat-experienced marines, with enough Sea Knight helos on board to get them deployed immediately. The
USS Makin Island
has five AV8-B Harriers with air to ground capabilities. In short, we can destroy the convoy with the Harriers, and reinforce Kinshasa with ground troops if necessary. From ‘Go’ to target should be less than thirty minutes for the jets.”

The president stood. “Gentlemen, please remain here for a bit. I’ve got a couple of phone calls to make.” He looked at his chief of staff. “Susan, get President Kuwali on the horn.”

Ten minutes later, the president sat in the Oval Office speaking to President Kuwali. It was six in the morning in Kinshasa. While President Kuwali spoke excellent English, he used a translator anyway, to be sure everything was perfectly understood. Kuwali listened to the entire briefing without saying a word, paying close attention to the location and size of the PAC forces that were heading his way. He was more than happy to accept the United States’ offer of military support.