Task Force Intrepid (The Gold of Katanga), page 10
“You are a fool. A young man who is working for criminals who are using you as a tool to make themselves rich. When they are done with you they will kill you so they can have more!” Lucien slapped the same ear again.
The young Rebel began to cry. There was no wimper or sob just a tear that filled up his eye and the drop ran down his face.
“Ah, so you can see the light. I despise hurting a fellow countryman. Your commander’s days are numbered. You can either cooperate with us or die like them. There are no other alternatives.”
Major Bell watched in silence. All of his interrogation training was against any kind of brutality to extract information. He knew that Lucien had received humanitarian training. However, there were long roads and short roads to get where they needed to go. Time was running out for the missionaries. He had no doubt that if they were not rescued or ransomed that they would die.
****
The team had slept soundly. There was no psychological feeling that compared to a successful post mission let down. The feeling of accomplishment, having just knocked on death’s door and walked away unscathed. They also prided themselves in righting a wrong. Those two mines were now forever marked with the deaths of over a hundred people, from the hostile takeover to their liberation. Justice had been served on evil doers.
Physically, their adrenal glands had shifted out of overdrive and left them with the desire for sleep. Katanga Resources stocked a considerable amount of beer and liquor for their employees and had opened the stores for the men. Moderation in their personal lives, a quality that Hadley looked for in a man, allowed them to enjoy a good buzz without getting rip roaring drunk. When they were operational there was no excuse for a hangover or anything that might slow the team down.
They rehashed the mission with Sergei and his crew. Sergei could put away the Vodka like the stereotypical Russian. Half of the security guards joined the party while the other half remained on duty.
Michael Smith, the Chief of the Lower Katanga Operations and his staff was welcomed to join in with them as well. He was intimidated sitting with men that he had only read about in novels and seen in movies. He was shocked at how personable most of them were. He was just thankful that KR had its mines back and that no more innocent people would die. Things had moved so fast that he had not had time to truly reflect on the deaths of his engineers and employees.
He had been close to Dale Byers. They were both from the Midwest and shared a lot in common. As he drank, his emotions loosened. He asked if they would be willing to join him in a toast to Dale and the others who had their lives erased by evil men. Everyone heartily joined in.
For the men at arms, they had partaken in many toasts to fallen comrades. The kitchen staff presented them all with steaks and various African vegetables. The party continued for two more hours and Kruger was the first to dismiss himself. This was a cue to the other men that it was time to hit the racks. They still didn’t know what awaited them the next day or week.
Willem had talked to Jen and his son earlier, assuring her that it was a routine mission and that the Congolese had taken over the dangerous work. That was all he would say. Trained by years of Operational Security, he never divulged details of missions until it no longer mattered.
Salvo had called his current girlfriend in Dallas. He spoke even less about what he was doing than Willem had. She was unaware of the full nature of his work. Colin was unattached to any particular girl at the moment and passed up the sat phone all together. Blake had went straight to his bunk, knocked out from the after effects of morphine and a moderate intake of Guinness.
Simmons called his son. When his son, nicknamed Buddy, asked where he was and what he was doing, Simmons simply told him he was a long way from home helping some people and that he would be back soon. He was talked into a trip to Disneyland sometime in the near future. It was early morning back in the states and Buddy told him that he was going back to bed. ‘Love ya, and see you in a couple of weeks’, he said.
Morning came and Kruger and Salvo awakened around the same time. Both men were stiff and joked about their age.
“I still aint as old as you, Boss and never will be. I’ve still got another decade in me,” Salvo dug at Kruger.
“Age and skill always beats youth and treachery,” Kruger replied.
They both went into the kitchen and grabbed cups of coffee and sat down.
“What are you thinking, Salvo?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Well, I want your opinion.”
“Until we get intelligence on who and what, I’m not going anywhere. You know as well as I do that we could easily run into a battalion sized group and end up as cannibal stew. A couple of million dollars split between the five of us and the Company is a lot of money but greed has gotten a lot of men killed. Especially on this Continent.”
The rest of the team rolled in and grabbed some coffee and were served a breakfast of fruits and beef stew. No one seemed to have suffered any ill effects from drinking the night before. McGee hobbled in and eased himself into his chair.
“You’ll have to let me clean the wound and change the dressings in a bit,” Simmons said.
“Yeah, just a little stiff and sore. Bruised up a bit. If I keep moving it should stay manageable.”
“Well, as far as Salvo and I are concerned, we are done here unless we get firm intelligence, a clear plan to rescue the hostages and some help from Major Bell and his Commando’s. Anyone feel different?” Kruger asked.
They all affirmed the sentiment and went on with breakfast. A lot of soldiers who had success fell victim to the feeling of invincibility. And many soldiers for hire let their greed get the best of them. An extra 200k per person was a big temptation that would have never been an issue in their former lives as soldiers of their countries.
“You know these Missionaries are like blokes who go up Everest and things go bad and everyone mourns their death and risks their lives to save them,” Colin thought out loud. “We are in one of the most violent countries on the planet. I believe in God but pushing the Man to his limits….I don’t know. Skydive without a parachute and your odds aren’t good.”
“I had a cousin who was a missionary. He had a job on Wall Street and just announced that they were moving to Thailand to be missionaries. He quit his job, went to seminary and they send me newsletters asking for money. The guy used to drive a hummer,” Simmons said half amused, half disgusted.
“Ja, this continent can use more of any religion that will stop people from killing each other but they better be prepared to be martyrs,” Kruger said. “Too bad they aren’t going to be martyrs for anything but money. They took them because they were defenseless. Easy targets.”
Everyone stopped eating and looked up when Major Bell came in with a tall, lean African officer. “Good morning, men.”
“Good morning, Major. How are you doing with the prisoner?”
“Well, this is Africa, not Langley. We have made some headway. I think we have some reliable info. You guys want to go into the Comms Center? Unfortunately, there are some things that you need to see and hear.” The men finished up their breakfast and followed the Major.
“First of all let me introduce Lieutenant Lucien Kava from the 391st Reconnaisance Company. He has been soldiering since his youth and fought for the President’s father when he drove towards Kinshasa in 1996. I have had the pleasure of mentoring him for the last year. He has attended Airborne and Ranger School and some other courses at the School of the Americas. He speaks fluent English and French and a couple of the native languages.”
“Good morning gentlemen,” he said in French accented English. “It was a privilege to do some work for you on this operation. Needless to say, we are much impressed with your tactics and skill. I hope that we can be of more assistance.”
Major Bell dove right in to the briefing. “This group of Rebels has some history in the Congo, Tanzania, Rwanda and Uganda. They are not as interested in politics as they like to tell people. They use that as a mask to confuse anyone interested in them. They are part of one of the many Criminal Syndicates in the Congo with some major connections to weaponry and finances. Their numbers change all the time. When they decide to take action, it’s not hard to find guns for hire.”
“The leader is Francois Malouff. He is easily recognizable. He’s larger and more muscular than the average Congolese. Educated and fluent in French as he spent a year in Paris for University studies. He almost always wears a Maroon Beret. He used to be part of the Kabila junta. After he did not receive what he was promised by Laurent Kabila after the Mobutu Regime fell, he took off on his own, away from Kinshasa and began wreaking havoc in the Kivu Provinces. He has defectors from the Ugandan Army. Members of the Tutsi tribes of the Congo. Not all Tutsi’s are in Rwanda.”
“They basically raid and loot wherever they can and sell the minerals on the black market or exchange them for weapons. They are the worst kind of people to put down. They kill and plunder because that’s their way of life.”
“So you say he has no political axe to grind?” Salvo asked.
“He seems to thrive on small fiefdoms. Perhaps after leaving Kabila, he decided he was going to be his own boss. We don’t know. That’s not all. Our prisoner has stated that a North Korean named Dak-ho Kwon is working with Malouff.”
“We wondered what an Asian was doing with these men,” Kruger noted.
“Lieutenant Kava has told me that there have been North Koreans in Central Africa since the 90’s. We know their 5th Brigade trained Mugabe’s soldiers in the 80’s to massacre his political opponents. It seems that Kwon is a bit of a ghost. He came to the area and has never left. We suspect that he is funneling diamonds and gold or whatever he can back to North Korea. They are always looking for sources of Uranium as well. Right now, with the situation of the world’s currency, Gold is high up on the list. He is the same as Malouff. He gets his kicks by doing what he’s doing. Other Koreans have been spotted but he seems to be the only one who remains on a constant basis. He is probably key to their operation by providing training and links to weaponry. Right now, it’s just basic stuff that they can get anywhere. If he was involved in anything on a larger scale, I’m sure that he could bring in more sophisticated stuff.”
“Is there any idea what kind of numbers they have here in Katanga?”
“If what the prisoner said is true, they have two to three hundred men spread out in the area north of here. Probably closer to 200 since you hit the mines.”
“OK, that’s great to know but we weren’t hired to put down a crime syndicate. What is the status on the missionaries?” Kruger asked.
“I have some bad news. I wanted to fill you in on who these people are before we got to that issue. It will help you make your decision. We received a video attached to an email that originated from Kinshasa. They obviously routed it from where they are, sending them to a contact. It isn’t pretty.” The Major put his laptop up on the table and pulled up an attachment to an email. Windows Media Player popped up and he enlarged it to full screen. The men gathered around, knowing that it wasn’t going to be pretty.
The video was taken with a handheld device, maybe even a smart phone. After some shaking and blurry images, it was sat down and steadied. Major Bell turned up the volume. They could hear shouting in the background though no one could make out words except Lieutenant Kava. He said that they were telling someone to bring her in. It looked like a school due to the chalkboard against the wall. Nothing was on it but it was noted by all the men.
Out of the left of the screen a blond haired woman came into view. It was obvious that she was pushed, as she stumbled forward. The Major and Lieutenant had reviewed photographs of the missionaries sent from their home organization. They recognized her as Samantha Hanes.
Major Bell paused the video. “This is Samantha Hanes, the wife of the leader of the mission.”
A voice shouted and she began to talk. The camera focused on her. Her clothes were ripped and in tatters, her face a bloody mess. “I am Samantha Hanes. I am a nurse and a missionary with New Life Evangelical Mission. All of the members of the mission are being held captive. We need two million dollars in exchange for our freedom.” Samantha Hanes started sobbing uncontrollably. Laughter was heard in the background. She spoke with a tremble. “We have all been raped repeatedly. My husband has been beaten. The men have been cut with knives. We have been given minimal food and no medical attention. Please, Please send the money…” She broke down again and fell to the ground.
The camera was picked up and moved over the woman. The man holding the camera delivered a blow with his foot to the ribcage of the woman. She gasped and grabbed her side.
The video focused closely on her head. A black arm from the left grabbed her hair and pulled her head up to face the camera.
“We have had fun with you, it’s not often we get white women for the men. For you soldiers and wicked capitalists, I have warned you and given you a timeline of when the money was supposed to be here. Now the ransom is raised to three million dollars. True to my word until my death in battle, this woman has breathed her last. And let you know, that we have brought Hell to these invaders. The same awaits anyone who attempts a rescue or attacks our men.”
A heavy Russian made Gyurza pistol was pointed at her temple. The hysterical woman began to pray though the words were unintelligible. With one hand grasping the hair and the other the pistol,
The voice of the man hidden from the camera pulled the trigger. The loud highly charged bullet entered the temple of Samantha Hanes and ripped off half of her skull and slumped to the floor.
The team looked away in disgust. They had seen death a thousand times over but there was something sickening about the torture and execution of an innocent non-combatant that differed and in their minds and hearts that was true violence. Evil upon the earth.
The voice continued as the camera focused even closer on the now exploded skull of the innocent woman. “One is now dead, true to my word. For every three days that you do not provide the money into the account specified, another will die. We are a creative people. This woman did not suffer in death. Next time the suffering will be more and death will not come by a simple bullet to the brain. You would be wise to avoid any action by your soldiers and allow for the ransom.”
If the money is transferred, the remaining will be let loose in the bush. If you come to us with soldiers, the first thing we will do is execute all of them. There will be no survivors. You soldiers of fortune, you white men from the west should pack your bags and go home. There is gold to be found elsewhere. I bid you adieu.” The screen went black.
Chapter 18
Kwon woke up to the rain showers hitting his thatched roof and the resulting leaks. He was used to the mud, doing most of his work in the Kivu Provinces. He let the woman he spent the night with sleep. He lit up a joint and stood in the doorway. They had to make a decision and soon. It was obvious that they were not going to fare well in Katanga. The terrain and relative stability of the region was not conducive to their methods of operation.
Getting the Gold out of the area was a problem too. They could go south across the border to Zambia or use an abandoned airstrip to funnel it out to Uganda and then Kenya. His men had cleared and patched an abandoned dirt airstrip north of the village. Francois had contacts with competent bush pilots. His contacts inside Uganda’s Lord’s Resistance Army would work with him for a price. Kwon’s ability to work with many different factions was his greatest asset. Being rich was every African’s dream. It surpassed any desire for democracy which was truly unknown on this continent.
He knew the likelihood of soldiers coming to attempt a rescue of the missionaries was high. Three million was a lot and they had rarely been successful with ransoms. It was Francois’s idea to take them captive. He hated missionaries and desired to kill all of them and what they represented; the old Colonialism which his father had grown up under. He also was beginning to harbor hatred for Asians. Particularly the Chinese. They came to Africa and built infrastructure and things needed by the people in exchange for mining concessions without interfering in politics but it was just another form of slavery. Kwon was the wrong skin color and Francois often made comments about killing ‘those Chinese bastards’.
Though he had a long term partnership with Malouff, he always watched his back. He had not survived in Africa for 15 years without living and breathing for himself and himself alone. He brought in men from North Korea when he felt the need for a larger operation. All of them were from the Reconnaissance Brigades and had the blessing of the Great Leader. They fought well and showed no mercy. He would request a team when they went back to the Kivus.
The village they were in was defensible on paper and Kwon had set it up accordingly. About seventy five of the group were here and the rest were in other villages and encampments along the approach to the village and a few that manned posts along a pre-planned escape route. If they were overrun, the men would fight until they could break contact and then shed their weapons and melt into the population of Kolwezi and other cities in the region. They would then make their way back to Goma in North Kivu.
From the reports they had, five men had retaken those mines. No Congolese were that proficient. The decimated and unbridled Army had nothing approaching that kind of soldiering. Kabila’s attempt to shore up the Army and create a Commando Brigade was news across the Congo. Most of those men were from the western part of the country and not combat hardened. With the softness and corruption of the people surrounding Joseph Kabila’s military command, he had no fear that a well trained combined operations Army would swoop into the East and destroy their Syndicates. The UN soldiers were harmless. Men he knew had made deals with senior Blue Helmets to procure sex slaves and drugs.
