20 |

  Ugurun, Nigeria

  Dawson and Spock stood at respectful attention as the bodies of the dead Nigerians were carried past and back toward the base. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Niner emerging from the church, his hands covered in blood. Dawson waited for the procession to pass before facing him. Niner shook his head and Dawson’s heart broke. He closed his eyes, picturing the young girl’s last plea.

  “Please don’t let them take me.”

  He squeezed his eyes hard, stemming the tears that threatened to flow. These were innocent children. This shouldn’t be their life. And while there was little he could do about it in the grander scheme of things, there was something he could do about it today. He walked briskly over to Buhari. “We have to protect these people.”

  Buhari regarded him. “I agree, Sergeant Major, and I’m open to suggestions.”

  “Get them all on the base.”

  Buhari’s eyes bulged slightly. “You yourself said it’s not ready.”

  “It’s not, but we’ll make it ready. All we need to do is hold out until reinforcements arrive.” He pointed at the schoolhouse. “I’m willing to die to protect those kids, are you?”

  Buhari squared his shoulders. “Sergeant Major, I swore the moment this started that I wasn’t leaving here alive, unless it was with those children.”

  Dawson smiled, extending a hand. “I knew you were my kind of man.”

  Buhari returned the handshake. “Let’s hope God is on our side today.” He headed for a nearby cluster of village elders and concerned parents.

  Niner joined him and Spock, cleaning his hands. “We need more help if we’re going to save these people.”

  Dawson agreed. “Red and his team are on the way by truck. Eight hours if they can get through the roads, which the locals are saying they can’t.”

  Niner shook his head. “Eight hours? This thing could be over by then.”

  “Wings is working on repairing a helicopter. He thinks it might take two hours. If he’s successful, he’ll pick them up. But even then, we’re talking hours before they get here, and we’re only talking six more men against what Langley just told me could be hundreds. They’re fearing a repeat of the Koshebe Massacre.”

  Atlas’ eyes narrowed. “What’s that?”

  “A couple of years ago, in a village about five miles from here, a Boko Haram fighter demanded the locals cook him food, and he apparently wasn’t too polite about it. So, rather than put up with his shit, they overpowered him, tied him up, and called in the local authorities. In response, Boko Haram came in force and slit the throats of over one hundred of them to make an example of anyone who would defy them.”

  Spock cursed. “Well, we just killed about a dozen of them. I’d say that’s defiance.”

  “Exactly. We could be facing hundreds if they hold true to form.”

  Jagger stared at the mess of motorcycles, the villagers tossing the bodies into the ditch beside the road and lining up the abandoned bikes. “No offense, BD, but while I admire your faith in us, aren’t we just delaying the inevitable? If they’re going to be sending hundreds against what, twenty-five, then that FOB has no hope in hell of defending against those numbers. It’s chain-link. If we had some real walls that we could keep these people behind, we might be able to hold them off, but even if we had fifty or a hundred men behind there, there’s nowhere to take cover. These people are going to be slaughtered.”

  Dawson agreed with Jagger’s assessment. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  “We’ve got half a dozen transport trucks. I say we load these people on there and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  Dawson shook his head. “I already talked to Buhari about that. If we head east or south, we’re heading deeper into Boko Haram territory, and the roads are out to the north and west. We won’t get ten miles, and then it’ll be open season on us.”

  “What if the locals just scatter?” suggested Atlas. “You know, safety in lack of numbers.”

  “That’s what they tried in Koshebe, and they just rounded them up then murdered them. Boko Haram is one of the most vicious terrorist groups currently operating. They’ve killed over thirty-thousand people. They have absolutely no regard for human life, and I’m willing to bet they’re going to kill every man, woman, and child in this village just to make an example of them so the Nigerians will think twice about engaging.”

  Niner shrugged. “Well, it’s not like we have any way of getting out of here ourselves, so if I’m going to die, it might as well be on my feet protecting innocent civilians.”

  Dawson noticed a round of handshakes in Buhari’s cluster then the sergeant major strode quickly over. “They’ve agreed to take refuge at the base. They’re terrified of a repeat of Koshebe.”

  “How many people are we talking?” asked Dawson.

  A group of young men jumped on the still-functioning motorcycles and raced off. Buhari indicated them with a wave of his hand. “Runners are being sent to all the farms in the area to warn them of what’s going on. If everyone heeds the warning, we’re looking at several hundred.”

  Dawson cursed. “The bastards won’t even need to aim.”

  “Fish in a barrel,” muttered Atlas.

  “What would you suggest we do?” asked Buhari. “You didn’t see what happened in Koshebe. I was one of the first on the scene, and it was the most brutal thing I’ve ever witnessed. I’ll die before I let that happen again.”

  Dawson regarded the man, there no doubting his bravery. “We’re all willing to die for these people, Sergeant Major, but once we’re dead, there’s no one left to protect them. I suggest we start thinking in terms of how to survive this.”

  Buhari sighed. “You’re right, of course.”

  “Let’s get back to the base. There’s no need for us to stay here now. Everybody knows where to go. We need to start prepping, and it’s time for our taskmasters to start earning their keep.”

  21 |

  En route to Ugurun, Nigeria

  Red swung the axe, the head chipping off another chunk of a large tree that blocked the road. They hadn’t even traveled three miles before they had reached the first blockage, the heavy rains having swept away the trees whose root systems weren’t deep enough or those that had died. It was an annual occurrence, but it took time to clear.

  When they had arrived, local civilians were already at work on it, and were only more than happy to allow fresh soldiers to take over. His team had joined in the efforts. If they were about to enter hopeless combat, he wanted everyone to feel as if they were comrades-in-arms as opposed to arrogant Americans who thought they were superior to their Nigerian counterparts. Everyone was equal when swinging an axe, though what he would give to have Atlas here right now. The man probably would have just picked up the log and tossed it aside. He smiled and Sergeant Donald “Sweets” Peters regarded him.

  “If you’ve got time to smile, I don’t think you’re swinging that axe hard enough, Sergeant.”

  Red chuckled. “I was just thinking how it would have been nice to have Atlas here.”

  Sergeant Danny “Casey” Martin laughed as he grabbed a smaller log and dragged it off the road. “Yeah, you definitely lost out on picking teams.”

  Sweets eyed him. “What are you trying to say, that we’re the B team?”

  Casey stared at him blankly. “And you are?”

  Sweets grinned. “Not everybody on the team makes the highlight reel, but they all play their part. But yes, I’d trade you any day for Atlas.”

  Red swung again, the tree finally splitting, and he exchanged a high-five with the Nigerian he had been working the log with in tandem. He stepped back, exhausted, as everyone in the immediate vicinity grabbed the ends of the split roadblock and dragged them out of the way. Akintan snapped orders to his men and everyone headed back to the trucks, the locals lining the side of the road and shouting their thanks as the engines started and they slowly lurched away, leaving the rest of the clean-up to the locals.

  Red took a drink from his canteen. “I think I’m going to recommend that chainsaws be added as standard equipment for missions like these.”

  “Seconded,” said Jimmy with a half-hearted raising of the hand.

  The truck came to a jerking stop and Sweets groaned. “What now?”

  Akintan appeared at the rear of the truck. “We’ve got another tree.”

  A round of groans erupted from Americans and Nigerians alike, and Red shook his head as he hopped out of the back of the truck. At this rate, there was no way in hell they would reach Dawson and the others in time to help.

  This could take days.

  22 |

  Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia

  Leroux stared at the displays, one set of images disturbing, the other oddly interesting if it weren’t for the fact it was appalling evidence of just how desperate the situation was. They were tagging hostiles as quickly as they could identify them, and a large tactical display showed well over 200 targets on the move with more added every minute.

  This was quickly turning into a Charlie-Foxtrot. Red’s team was rolling with over 100 Nigerian regulars and supplies, but they were stuck clearing roads and had barely made it a few miles from their starting point. Wings was working on repairing a chopper, though it could take a couple of hours and there were no guarantees. And even if he did get it working, it meant a dozen men at a time, less if they brought significant equipment.

  The only hope at the moment were the two Nigerian helicopters, now inbound, carrying two dozen men along with critical supplies—a sustained defensive effort would require thousands of rounds of ammunition. He peered at the overhead shot of the Forward Operating Base, scores of civilians streaming through the front gate, clustering around the buildings at the center.

  “What are they doing?” asked Child as he zoomed in slightly.

  Leroux rose and stepped closer to the displays, his hands clasped behind his back. “Are those logs?”

  Tong squinted. “I think so.”

  Leroux pointed. “They’re trying to use the trucks and logs as a makeshift barrier.”

  “My God. They must be desperate,” murmured Tong.

  Child pointed. “Those choppers are coming in now.”

  Leroux glanced over his shoulder at him. “ETA?”

  Child adjusted the image, showing the two choppers rapidly approaching the FOB. “Less than ten minutes.”

  “Good. At a minimum, that’ll give them more manpower to build their barricades and hopefully project some of that force outside the wire. If they just hole up inside, no one’s making it out of there alive.”

  Tong threw up her arms in excitement, staring at her screen. “They have one!”

  Leroux turned to her. “Who has one of what?”

  “AFRICOM Base Camp N’Djamena in Chad has what we’re looking for.”

  A smile spread as Leroux returned to his station. “How soon can they get it there?”

  Tong continued to read the message then frowned. “They can’t. The Nigerians haven’t granted clearance for anything to enter their airspace. They have the container, they have the heavy-lift chopper, and they say they can have it there in thirty minutes, but they need a pilot and he can’t be American military.”

  Leroux cursed. “Politics. Get me the base commander.”

  Tong gave a thumbs-up a few moments later. “Colonel Kate Waters is on Line Two.”

  Leroux plugged in his headset. “Colonel Waters. I assume you’re aware of the situation.”

  “I am, sir. We’ve got what you need. I have my team hooking it to the Chinook now, but I don’t have a crew. The Nigerians have made it quite clear they don’t want any American military assets operating on their soil, and I can’t violate my orders unless instructed to do so by my chain of command. As I’m sure you know, that request has already gone up and been denied. Nobody wants to rile what could potentially be an important ally in the region.”

  A thought occurred to Leroux. “Colonel, if we were to supply the crew, would you look the other way if they took that chopper on a joyride with whatever might happen to be attached to it at the time?”

  “Sir, I could guarantee you that every set of eyeballs on this base will be checking the polish on their boots.”

  Leroux smiled. “Happy to hear that, Colonel. I’ll get back to you shortly. Langley, out.” He disconnected from the call and Tong turned to face him.

  “How the hell are we going to get a flight crew there in time that’s crazy enough to steal a Chinook with a ten-ton container, and fly it into not-so-friendly territory?”

  Leroux smiled slightly, wagging a finger at her and his team. “No, I haven’t gone mad. Remember that contractor we used in Afghanistan last year, the one who helped fly Kane and his translator around?”

  Tong’s eyes narrowed for a moment then her face lit with recognition. “The ex-Aussie Special Air Service guy?”

  “Exactly. According to the briefing notes I read at the time, he’s worked with Dawson and the others before. After the collapse of Afghanistan, Kane mentioned he had heard he was flying oil company execs around Africa.”

  Child spun in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “That guy is just the right amount of nuts for the job. Do you think he’d do it?”

  Leroux sat at his station. “I think he would just for fun, but if he knew who he might be saving, he’d probably be mad we took so long to think of him. Sonya, see if you can find him. He could be the key to getting that equipment delivered. If we get that container in position, they might just stand a chance.”

  23 |

  FOB Ugurun, Nigeria

  Dawson helped direct the flood of new arrivals, the FOB rapidly filling. “Children and nursing mothers to the center of those buildings. Able-bodied men and women, head over to Sergeant Major Buhari, he’ll assign you work. We need to prep for whatever Boko Haram is going to do next.”

  Fear flared in the eyes of the already panicked civilians at the mention of the enemy, but they followed his instructions. Dawson had effectively taken command as there were no Nigerian officers at the base, and Buhari was content to abdicate responsibility to someone else with more experience.

  Niner jogged over. “We started siphoning the fuel off from all those trucks. It’s going to take a while though. It’d be faster if we could just puncture the tanks and drain them that way.”

  Dawson shook his head. “No, we might need to refuel them and use them for evac at some point. We need to preserve the fuel in their storage tank. I just don’t want one of those trucks erupting into a fireball and taking out a dozen civilians using it as cover.”

  “Understood. Let’s just hope the bastards don’t hit the fuel tank.”

  Dawson glanced over his shoulder at the cinder block enclosure surrounding it. “It should be fine unless they hit us with something really heavy. Let’s just make sure nobody’s hiding near those walls.”

  “Roger that.”

  Atlas dropped a massive log he had single-handedly carried from the tree line. The roar of chainsaws and the thuds of swinging axes filled the air all around them as more locals were put to work pushing back the trees that could be used as cover by the enemy, and shelter for the civilians.

  Buhari hailed him, rushing over with one of the villagers. “Sergeant Major, this man says there’s a front loader about two miles from here. The government uses it for road clearing in the region, but it ran out of gas. If we could refuel it and get it here, we could use it to push back the tree line far faster.”

  Visions of The Green Berets with John Wayne flashed and Dawson nodded, pointing at Jagger. “You and Mickey take some jerry cans in one of the trucks and get that loader here. Any resistance, back off and return to base. Don’t engage.”

  “Yes, Sergeant Major.” Jagger and Mickey broke off to execute the orders as Spock, carrying one end of a log with a local, stopped and cocked an ear instead of an eyebrow.

  “Does anybody else hear that?”

  Dawson smiled as he picked out the thunderclap of helicopter rotors beating the air over the chainsaws and axes. Cheers erupted though Dawson tempered his response, for he knew all too well that unless the Nigerians could get at least a dozen roundtrips in to reinforce the area, they didn’t stand a chance. The latest reports from Langley indicated at least 200 hostiles assembling, and a couple of dozen extra soldiers were just labor. He pointed to the far end of the base where the men had been exercising when they first arrived. “Clear that area. We’ve got choppers incoming.”

  Several of Buhari’s men started shouting orders, hustling the civilians out of the way. Dawson peered into the distance, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun as he searched for the incoming relief.

  Spock pointed. “There, two o’clock low.”

  Dawson adjusted his gaze and spotted the two choppers coming in from the west. Buhari had informed him they contained twelve men each plus weapons, and most importantly, ammo. It would not be enough to hold this base, but it would be a start, and the manpower could prove critical in readying a defensive position for these civilians. The thunder of the choppers grew and more civilians took notice, all now on their feet staring toward what they likely thought were their saviors.

  The good news was that they might get out most of the children ahead of the attack, though as word spread throughout the area, more civilians continued to arrive. And if this kept up, scores of flights might be necessary. They needed open roads and heavy transports, as well as a significant force on the ground to not only repel any attack, but to proactively engage.

  The lead chopper rapidly approached when the cheering from the villagers abruptly turned into gasps as the smoke trail from an RPG streaked up from the ground. Dawson cursed as it slammed into the tail, erupting into a fireball. The chopper tipped forward then collapsed out of the air. The ground shook as the fuel ignited, the heat from the fire setting off the ammo, thousands of secondary explosions killing any hope of survivors. Gunfire from an AK-47 rattled across the landscape and the second chopper banked hard to the right. Smoke poured from the tail and the rotor sputtered then failed. The pilot struggled to control the descent, and it began to spin as it dropped below the tree line. The sound of the airframe hitting hard reached them as black smoke billowed into the air.

 

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