Task Force Intrepid (The Gold of Katanga), page 12
“Ja, my thoughts exactly. Tomorrow, they will off another one. I’ve been thinking. Between you and KR, I don’t know if you could pull a bait and switch with the money. Make a transaction in such a way that it looks like they have the money then it just disappears. We need today, tomorrow before we launch the attack.”
“I will discuss it with KR’s head and get with a consultant I know, a brilliant young hacker, and see what I can do. Give me 12 hours. Then call back,” Hadley said.
“I’ve got mixed feelings on this one, Jim.”
“Well, that’s understandable. You make the call. That’s why you are Team Leader on this one.”
“Roger that. Contact in twelve hours. Out.” Kruger ended the call and wondered if he had lost the touch. He didn’t know if he had used himself up. Then he cursed himself for being double minded. This mission was a go. Professionals find a way to make things happen.
Chapter 19
Major Bell, Lieutenant Kava, and the Team spent the rest of the day pouring over maps of the area and survey photos of the area that KR had done assessing the area. The main village they believed the hostages to be held in was about 50 kilometers north of the mines. At one time it had been a thriving village with a school run by missionaries. It sat next to the same river that flowed past the mines.
The terrain was their main interest. The maps and photos showed that it sat in a shallow valley that ran along the river. There were elevated spots on each side. Like the rest of the Congo, there were only tracks that led to it and continued north. The few roads in the DRC were in the West. They believed that along those tracks, listening posts had been set up to alert the village if anyone was headed their way. They would not be able to use those tracks to get close to the village. They would have to ruck their way into the area. Being isolated, any movement spotted would alert the camp and possibly kill the hostages.
The school buildings were on the west side of the village. They would have to find a way to isolate that area and keep the Rebels away from the buildings. The push through the village would send them into stop teams who would cut down the escapees. Should any of them escape, they could be tracked to their most likely destination, the rest of the gang.
Extraction of the missionaries posed the greatest problem. The bullets would be flying in all directions. They could not risk the Puma and Sergei’s crew to fly into the middle of it. Downing the chopper would be a disaster and likely cause deaths. If all went well, the village would be cleared and then they could bring in Sergei to extract the missionaries. Depending on the success of the attack, they could then track the Rebels and finish them off.
Salvo brought up an obvious issue. “Are there any civilians in the camp that we know of?”
“We believe there are some but most abandoned the village or were kicked out. Just like in your Vietnam War, there are free fire zones. It is not a tasteful thing but no punishment will be directed toward you or my men. We are not targeting civilians but if they are caught in the crossfire, it is something that we have to deal with,” Kava replied seriously.
Kruger added his directives. “We have been in this type of operation countless times. None of us are going to target civilians but if they are using human shields or a civilian picks up a weapon, we will take it as an act of aggression and eliminate them and move on. We all know the score, ouens. I think we need to break, I need to call HQ and hopefully I will have good news.” He then dismissed the entire room and headed outside to clear his head and call Hadley.
“Hadley.”
“Any progress, Jim?”
“Yes, we do have a plan. I have the man I told you about that does work for the Agency. He has been working as a contractor for the last few years. He is able to deliver what we need. A Ghost account.”
“Can I ask what the hell is a ghost account?” Kruger asked.
“Basically, Willem, he has the ability to set up bank accounts under certain situations that exist only in cyberspace. All the authentication is real, transfers are made, records created, etc. This transaction will be made by KR International but the money will not show up when they attempt to actually use it or transfer it,” Hadley said with some excitement. The world of high stakes finance had replaced his adrenaline from field work. “We will deposit the first million and ask for proof of life, then when you are ready, we will ‘deposit’ the rest.”
“All we need is two days. How are the communications with these people going?”
“I touched base with the Mission Agency and KR and the story is still the same. You know in any civilized nation, they would be easily tracked, traced and their whole operation shut down with the click of a button on the financial end.”
“Ja, don’t forget that this is Africa and it will always be Africa,” he reminded Hadley, even though the old man knew it.
“We are planning to insert the night after next. Tomorrow we will coordinate with the 391st and the following day, prepare to jump off. Hopefully this computer whiz will save the lives of another missionary.”
“When do you want the money transferred?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. That is the third day. It will be late enough that they won’t leave and hopefully be blitzed enough to hold off any executions till the next day.”
“We will do what we can. I have full faith in the team and that this will be resolved,” Hadley tried to reassure Kruger.
“I have faith in the men, I just hope that Major Bell’s ‘Commando’s’ live up to their reputation.
“We are squared away on our end.”
“Roger that Jim. Hopefully we will be home soon. Whiskey Kilo out.”
Kruger sat down after the phone call on the same stoop he had used before to make his calls. Only a third of the money…….he thought. These were no ordinary criminals. They had no qualms about fulfilling their threats. Yet greed could keep them on the hook.
“How are things going, Sir?” a voice asked in Afrikaans.
Kruger looked up from the ground and saw the Chief of Security, his fellow Afrikaner. He had not had time to chat with him as they had each been busy about their jobs. He was a younger man and looked extremely fit, obviously spending a lot of time on the weight pile. Jet black hair and clean shaven, he looked every bit a soldier. He carried the R4 Rifle and wore Recce style webbing. A lot of South Africa’s tactical gear had been designed from the kit worn by their enemies during the Border War.
“As well as can be expected.” Kruger replied. “I don’t think we even had the chance to introduce ourselves properly. What is your name?”
“Johan Pretorius, sir,” the young man said and extended his hand.
Kruger shook his hand. “Willem Kruger. I was born in South Africa but grew up in Rhodesia.”
“Yes, sir. I have heard about you.”
“How so?” said a surprised Kruger.
“Certain people acquire a reputation over a number of years. Our community is small and getting smaller all the time. I served in the Special Task Force for six years.”
“Ah, yes, a lekker unit. I tried policing in the late 80’s but couldn’t stomach it.”
“I policed for a couple of years then made selection for the Task Force. Did a lot of work but I couldn’t stomach the corruption I saw. We would hunt down killers, bank robbers, pimps of children prostitutes. If we didn’t have the chance to kill them, they would go free. The dockets in the courts were so full that it was all for nothing. Judges making rich off of bribes. There are a lot of fine men in the Force. I served my initial term then decided to make some money. The Task Force has lost about 60 percent manpower since 9/11. Too much opportunity. South Africa is headed nowhere. If I am going to die, I’m not dying for the likes of Jacob Zuma and the ANC.”
“I understand. Politics has run me from country to country and yet it still goes on. Tell me about the attack here on the compound,” Kruger asked.
“A normal day around here. Things have been stable in Katanga for a while now and the men were caught off guard. Fortunately, no one from my team was injured. I was brought in to train up the security guards. Most of them are locals. A good bunch but a lot of work has gone into them.”
“I was in the guardhouse and saw three cutdowns coming down the road. I put the binoc’s on them and saw they were armed then alerted the team. They deployed to several positions we had pre-arranged should someone try to come through the front gate. I told the team if they even waved a gun at us to open up on my shot.”
“They slowed and turned down the driveway. I saw a couple of boys rack their rifles and I took out the driver of the lead vehicle. My second in command was manning the sandbag pit and let loose. They tried to scatter but we put the hurt on them. Two of the trucks got away. The other three Africans we have working were scared shitless but they held their ground. It was over in about thirty seconds. Some good men died in those two mines. They didn’t have the experience or leadership to deal with something like that. A shame and a big loss for the Company.”
“How long is your contract with KR?” Kruger had already decided that he wanted this man with SLEW.
“I’ve got a month left but they are paying pretty well and I do three months on, one off.”
“You Task Force ouens work hostage rescue a lot, ja? How many have you participated in?” Kruger was going in an obvious direction.
“Thirty two. Never lost a hostage on my watch. Sometimes we do lose the hostage. I was just lucky enough to not have that happen when my troop was called in. Johannesburg is so befocked. The odds just aren’t on our side. It’s like the Kivu provinces in the city.”
“Would you be willing to go with us on this punchup? We could use a man who specializes in HR.”
“That’s up to Mr. Smith. But my answer is Fokken Hell yes.”
Chapter 20
Francois Malouff sat with his satellite connected laptop looking intently at the transaction information. His point man in Kisangani informed him that the Mission Agency and Katanga Resources had deposited one million dollars into an off shore account and demanded proof that the rest of the missionaries were still alive.
Francois was not an accountant and demanded that his man, Pierre, verify the deposit as legitimate. Pierre assured him that it was legitimate. He made it appear that all of his phone calls and online activity originated in Kinshasa. The government of the DRC had little in the way of resources to delve into the intricacies of electronic surveillance.
He debated what his next action should be. He was already a million dollars richer but he had been insulted that they did not comply with the full amount. He had killed men for stepping on his boots. However, if he played the game, he could get the full amount and then kill the missionaries. As it stood, he was a wanted man, disposing of these pieces of shit would not imperil him anymore than he was already. In fact, if they came through with the money, he would send video of them being flayed alive. He instructed one of his men to video tape all of the missionaries and bring it to him.
He walked to Kwon’s hut and woke him. “Dak, get up. We have business to discuss.”
Kwon pulled himself upright and stood up then promptly vomited.
“My God, man, there is blood in that vomit,” Francois said with disgust.
“Yes, thank you, I would have never noticed it,” he replied sarcastically.
“We have a deposit into the account. Come to the building when you are cleaned up,” he said then walked away.
Kwon turned to his consort who lay nude in bed. “Make yourself useful and clean this shit up.”
He washed his face and dressed himself including his webbing and rifle. His premonitions were beginning to kick in and he was rarely wrong. He walked across the now muddy ground that had been bone dry two weeks ago. The sky was showing signs of more rain to come.
The building they used as their command center was made of mason blocks like the school house that the missionaries were held in. Most of the weapons and ammunition that they had were stored in there as well as their basic communications. As a group that moved frequently, they were spare in their equipment.
“Have something to eat for your stomach and some water,” Francois said and waved for one of the villagers to bring him some breakfast.
“The Americans have deposited one million dollars.”
“That is not what we asked for,” Kwon noted the obvious.
“They say that the rest will be transferred once we give them proof that they are still alive. I have killed for much less of an insult to my word.”
“What do you have in mind?” Kwon asked as the villager put a bowl of beef stew down on the table.
“There are several possibilities here. They are being cautious with the money and will deliver once we show that they are still alive. Second, it is a delaying action to give them more time to devise a rescue strategy. Third is they are trying to track and shut down our financial operations. I am greatly insulted. However, I am no fool. We have one million with the possibility of more. However, time is ticking. They could be moving in on us even now.”
“I believe that your latter inclinations are correct. They will come. How can you be sure the money is safe and not a deception,” Kwon tried to slowly drink some water and a spoon full of stew.
“I pay Pierre handsomely for his knowledge and expertise in computers and finance. He has verified that the transactions have come from legitimate accounts. If he is wrong, I will terminate his career and find another man.”
“And what do we intend to do if they do deposit the money? Turn the whites loose in the bush and go back to Kivu?”
“I will personally kill them and let them know that I did not appreciate the delay in the ransom,” Fancois said indignantly.
“How long do you intend to wait?”
“Once they have the video, I will give them 24 hours. Either way, we are richer and they are dead. I will not leave Katanga without bettering my situation. Give me a report on how our defenses are positioned.”
“We have an OP five kilometers to the south. There is protection on all sides. I have two man teams to the west and east. Those are about 5 kilometers out. If they try to insert with a helicopter, they will be heard. We have machine guns emplacements at the southern end. It will be difficult if not impossible to get close to the village without us being alerted.”
****
Lieutenant Kava had picked up his men at the Kolwezi airstrip. Two of KR’s Learjets had been used to transport the men south. They fell into formation as the Lieutenant greeted them and performed a brief inspection. They had arrived battle ready, dressed in fatigues and carrying the units preferred weapon, the AKS-74. A refined version of the classic AK-47, chambered for 5.45x39mm ammunition, it was developed in the 1970’s, used across the former Soviet bloc and a host of other countries. The S model came with a folding stock which decreased weight and allowed for compactness needed by airborne infantry. Their rucksacks were outfitted with supplies for a three day operation.
“Men, you have been handpicked for this operation. We have been designated as a Mobile Reaction Force to put down threats that seek to harm the Democratic Republic of the Congo and threaten the stability of President Kabila’s administration. Some have said that you are not ready for this operation. I say that we seize the day and prove to the President that we are able defenders of our country. Who here is ready to destroy our enemies?”
“We are, Sir!” came a unified shout.
“You will be working with professional soldiers who will lead the way. They are willing to work with us. This is our chance to prove our worth. Who is with me?!”
“We are, Sir!” again they shouted and raised their rifles and shook them.
“Atten Hut!” shouted Mbolo, Kava’s top NCO. The men snapped to, eyes forward.
“Fall out and board the vehicles provided.”
The men boarded trucks provided by local police forces and sped off toward Katanga Resources main compound.
****
“Would you mind if we brought Johan with us on this operation? His experience in Hostage Rescue would be an improvement on the odds of a successful mission,” Kruger asked Mr. Smith in his office.
“Johan is under contract as a security guard. We hired you to rescue the mines and hostages,” Smith said defensively. He did not want to lose Pretorius. He had made a huge difference in security and morale among the Security Team.
“Mr. Smith, Hostage Rescue is a specialty. Everyone on the team has experience with it or they wouldn’t be here but every gun we can add increases our odds of success. There are intricacies that only a man with his type of experience can put you over the top.”
“Well, I’ll let Johan decide. Let’s call him in.” Mr. Smith called for Johan to come into the office. “How are you feeling about this, Mr. Kruger? We are indebted to you and are interested in doing further business with your company,” he said waiting for Johan.
“We are glad that we incurred no casualties and that the mines are now back in your hands. After this is said and done, perhaps we can advise you on some future protocol to keep this from happening again,” Kruger said, trying to grease the wheel.
“You wanted to see me, Sir.” Pretorius entered the room outfitted in his kit with his R4 hanging on a sling. There was no doubt this young man had a presence wherever he went.
“Mr. Kruger wants to know if we can let you loose to go on with them. I’m going to leave it up to you. There is no extra pay involved.”
“Sir, after what those bastards have done to our workers and those missionaries, I would pay to be in on this,” Pretorius said enthusiastically.
