Task Force Intrepid (The Gold of Katanga), page 1
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Copyright 2011
TaskForceIntrepid ©
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This series came about through my love for all things Military and the Continent of Africa. I have been fortunate to have met and befriended many men who inspired the type of events fictionalized in this book. They will remain nameless out of respect for their privacy and desire to continue on as the Quiet Professionals.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
For more information on the upcoming Task Force Intrepid Series, including news coverage, interviews and book reviews on everything from African wars to Military History, please visit and participate in the Blogs listed below.
This series came about through my love for all things Military and the Continent of Africa. I have been fortunate to have met and befriended many men who inspired the type of events fictionalized in this book. They will remain nameless out of respect for their privacy and desire to continue on as the Quiet Professionals.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 1
The Gold of Katanga
“Why did I take this job, Roger?” Dale Byers sat in an air conditioned trailer inside the reinforced fenced compound that spanned some 50 hectares. He had spent six months in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. He hadn’t seen a football game in over a year and was constantly recovering from intestinal distress. There wasn’t a woman within a thousand miles to keep him company. It’s not just a job Dale, it’s an adventure…The sound of the giant bucket wheel excavator combined with other earth moving equipment was like fingernails on a chalkboard today.
“Ah bollocks mate, you are making quid like a gangster,” said Roger Thompson, the Australian engineer. “Except for the death and destruction, it’s just like western Australia.”
Dale Byers had studied Mining Engineering at the University of Missouri-Rolla over a decade ago. An avid outdoorsmen and traveller, he thought that Mining would take him the world over and provide a good living. It had. After college he had worked in Colorado for two years and then moved on to Australia. There he had married a gorgeous blond woman from Perth and fathered a beautiful baby girl. He was living his dream. Never a good judge of women, he soon found his wife was enjoying the nightlife while he was away in the camps. She turned up pregnant. Being a solid engineer, he did some calculations from her due date and knew that he had been stepped out on. Really, just plain stepped on.
After a bitter divorce, he decided he needed to get away from everything and go as far away as he possibly could. He found it. After the second Congo war, the powerhouse mines that supplied the world with cobalt and copper had been looted and the equipment mishandled and destroyed. Supposedly peace had been restored to Democratic Republic of the Congo under the UN and he and Roger were tasked to put the pieces back together and resume the quest for cobalt and copper. Katanga Resources, Ltd. was a joint venture between an Australian and American owned Mining company and the government of Katanga Province. However, they had been working on more interesting projects for the last month. Rumors of Gold had turned up in the midst of the African Copper Belt. After a survey, the company decided to explore a plot that showed possiblities. With the value of gold skyrocketing the world over, the Company decided to give it a go.
It was low key and heavily guarded. The savanna surrounding it provided isolation and less prying eyes. The Katangan government provided a contingent of armed policemen to garrison the new project under the joint operation. The majority of the legitimate economy in the DRC revolved around mining. The illegitimate economy of the country was embroiled in violence and fighting over small artisan mining operations. People trying to carve a living out of this brutal continent.
The main headquarters for KR, Ltd. was also fortified and employed several western contractors to oversee security. The two engineers were sent out in a small convoy every day from the compound in Kolwezi and returned to comfortable quarters in the evening. It became a monotonous routine.
“Want to play some poker, Roger? I’m going batshit crazy today.”
“Whatever your fancy. I’m about ready to open up the Jim Beam.”
“Shit, it isn’t even noon.”
Dale got up from his desk and went to a storage cabinet where they locked up their valuables. Jim Beam, Russian Vodka and a deck of cards. He also kept a 9mm pistol with a lot of ammunition. It was pretty easy to come by in the Congo. As he passed by the window he stopped suddenly.
He saw the guards running towards the gate and waving the workers off their machinery. He could barely hear the shouting over the drone of the AC.
“What the fuck? Roger, come look.”
Roger peered out of the window. “Lock the fucking doors and give me the pistol.” He then went to the opposite side of the 60 foot trailer. “Shit mate, we got trouble.”
Three cutdown Toyota trucks came racing down the road creating plumes of red dust. The beds of the trucks were full of men with weapons. Chaos erupted outside the trailer. The head of the security detail banged on the door of the trailer.
“Mr. Byers and Mr. Thompson, lock your doors and stay inside! Do not come out!”
Roger and Dale watched in disbelief at the convoy as it stopped outside of the compound. A tall well muscled shirtless black man with a maroon beret stepped out of the lead cut down with a large pistol pointed directly at the soldiers at the gate. The Katangan officer waved his arms but had not raised his rifle at the men. The soldiers inside the compound had spread out behind whatever cover they could find.
The cut down Toyota trucks had mounted PKM machine guns with men at the ready. The Sergeant began to move backwards as the man in the Beret grew more agitated. They continued yelling at each other while the trucks moved into a skirmish line. The men got out of the beds of the trucks and filled the gaps in between.
“We’ve had it, mate. They want in for the gold. How do you want to call this, mate?”
“They are either going to kill us or take us captive. If we shoot, we’re dead men.”
The man in the Beret crossed his arms and stood staring for a second then turned and lifted an arm and waved his hand. One of the mounted guns unleashed a stream of bullets into the Police Officer . The other men fired their AK-47’s directly at him. Roger and Dale watched the man’s torso and head disintegrate. His legs stumbled backwards several steps before the dismembered, disemboweled corpse fell.
“Oh, shit, man. Get down. Get down!” Dale crawled back to his desk and balled up underneath it.
“God, I don’t want to die in this fucking shithole!” Roger yelled.
Outside, the platoon of Katangan guards returned fire and screamed out orders to one another. The three mounted machine guns kept them pinned down and picked off anyone who tried to maneuver for a better shot. The lead Toyota crashed through the gate and the men on foot followed. Several fell from Katangan fire but they kept coming. The trucks raced around the compound shooting every living thing. Miners who had nothing to fight with were gunned down and ran over. Bullets ripped through the trailer. The marauders took no notice of casualties and were swarming the defenders.
High on Dagga and amphetamines they fought on even after being shot a second and third time. Within a matter of minutes the only sounds that could be heard was the screaming and chanting of these pirates of the savanna. The dead lay everywhere. The man in the Beret walked from body to body of the dead and dying Katangans, both guard and miner, with a pistol in one hand and a machete in the other. If there was a sign of life, he hacked and hacked at the head and neck then finished with a bullet to the face.
Dale Byers knew that this would be his last moments on earth. He thought of his child in Australia and the joy he had known in being a father and then his parents and being a son. He prayed. Lord Jesus, help me to be strong….
Both of the men heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs to the trailer. The door knob rattled then a shot blasted it apart. Roger stood up and aimed the 9mm at the evil that stood before him and fired. The bullet grazed the shoulder of the assailant. Roger was shot dead with a heavy pistol round to the face.
Dale came out from underneath the desk pleading for his life. His hands were raised in surrender. “Look, man, take whatever you want…” A bullet entered his belly and knocked him down. They drug him out into the midday sun in the middle of what was left of the killers. Dale began to cry in fear.
The leader of this invasion looked around at his men and shouted. The reply was blood curdling and filled with death and approval. He pulled the terrified mining engineer up by his hair and lifted the machete high into the air and brought it down across the neck of Dale Byer.
Task Force Intrepid:
The Gold of Katanga
Chapter 2
Willem Kruger sat on his back porch, sipping straight black coffee, looking over his corn fields and watching the sunrise over the distant tree line that marked the eastern edge of his property. He made a habit of being up before the sun in order to prepare for the day’s work and enjoy the freshness of a new day. The summer had been busy on the farm. It started in the spring and didn’t relent until harvest time which was coming soon. It was a satisfying time of the year. This year the weather had been cooperative and he expected a good return on his work.
Farming was in his blood. In many ways, he felt like he was carrying on the dreams that his father had many years ago. Willem reminisced about his family and their farm more than usual when harvest time neared each year. As a younger man, it stirred up harsh emotions that fueled his fire as a soldier. As the years passed, he tried to remember only the good parts and enjoy the present.
He was proud of being a part of the Rhodesian agricultural heritage. Strong, independent men from all over the globe had gone to Africa and particularly Rhodesia to stake their claim in the world and build lives for themselves and family. From Ranching to Farming, the country grew into the breadbasket of Africa. The toil of several generations produced a high standard of living for both the Black and White African.
Few people knew where Rhodesia was or had ever heard of it in America. He would politely explain that it was now called Zimbabwe but would always be Rhodesia to him. His parents were Boers from South Africa and had found great opportunity and adventure in Rhodesia. Willem’s father grew up in South Africa and had immediately volunteered to serve in the South African Army when World War Two had broken out. He had fought early in North Africa and later in the 6th Armored Division during the vicious battles for Italy. After his father had returned home from World War Two, he married and moved north to live a life of peace and prosperity.
Things were ever improving for the Kruger Family until history made a pivot point on the continent of Africa. During the 1960’s, European Colonialism deteriorated and crumbled under the weight of revolutions and Communist incursions. Rhodesia was no exception even though in 1965, the country formally cut patronage ties with the United Kingdom and declared sovereignty. The Communist super powers spared no time to gain influence in a power vacuum. China and the Soviet Union brought revolutionaries to their countries to be politically indoctrinated and trained in guerilla and political warfare. It started small, with bands of terrorists attacking farmers and detonating explosives in urban areas.
The Rhodesian farmer was at a disadvantage due to the isolation and rudimentary communications available, not to mention the sparse Security Forces. Little by little the Liberation groups ZIPRA and ZANLA headed by communist thugs crossed the borders of Rhodesia and set about killing and terrorizing the civilian population.
The Kruger family carried on farming and making a stand on the land that they had cultivated and cared for. All members of the family were trained in firing rifles and handguns. Crude alarm systems were constructed around the main house. They even had a safe room inside the house that contained a shortwave radio, weapons and ammunition. Willem and his siblings could no longer go on long adventures across the countryside for fear of being abducted or killed. The Government was determined to preserve the country and establish security on the borders but the numbers of Terrorists grew and hope diminished.
In 1978, the war reached their farm. A group of ZIPRA led terrorists raided the farm in the middle of the night and brutally killed the family and looted the house. They burned the crops and killed the livestock. The only reason Willem had not perished with the rest of his family was a yearly visit to his uncle’s house in Bulowayo.
His uncle learned of the news and sat Willem down to tell him and wept with him. This shattering event cut off emotion in the young man. His only desire was to avenge the deaths of his family who wanted nothing more than to farm and live in peace. With nothing left and a determination to join the war, his uncle consented to allow him to join the Rhodesian Army. The recruiters thought it best at his age that he be slotted for a position in supply but he demanded to go to the Rhodesian Light Infantry.
After they relented and sent him off to Salisbury Barracks for intake, he found his new home. Each day he was driven by the memory of his family and he fought to prove himself better than men 10 years his senior. His seventeenth birthday came during his training. He passed basic recruit training and the School of Infantry with high marks. For the next two years he learned the deadly trade of Terrorist hunting and Fire Force tactics. It was the height of a light infantryman’s skill to meet the enemy and battle shot for shot.
The Rhodesian Security Forces were winning the war against Mugabe’s hordes, backed by outside forces but 1980 came and the country surrendered to the political whims of the United States and Great Britain and allowed Mugabe to win a corrupted vote. Vowing not to serve in this butcher’s Army, he fled to South Africa and was received with open arms into the struggle against the Communist backed tide coming down from Angola.
The next decade roared by as he received an officers commission while serving in the 44th Parachute Brigade and then in 5 Commando as a Recce, fighting the Cuban and Soviet backed communists pushing down towards the borders of South Africa through Angola and Mozambique. Politics once again played a central role in the downfall of the Army and lifestyle of the country. When the New South Africa began cutting Special Forces Units, he resigned his commission, and found work as a police officer for less than a year. He left in disgust with the corruption of the ruling African National Congress. With the whole continent embroiled in civil war, he was recruited as a soldier into the Private Sector to restore peace in Angola. He was done with fighting wars for the Elite’s political and economic aspirations.
It was during one of his contracts with the Government of Sierra Leone he found love and comfort in the arms of an American woman and left the Continent to pursue what his parents had never been able to realize. With his earnings from work in Africa he migrated with his new wife and child to the United States and moved to the state of Kansas, the very center of the country where his wife was from and determined to leave Soldiering alone and pick up the plough. They lived a stable life in a Country where they need not fear their land being confiscated at gunpoint.
