Task Force Intrepid (The Gold of Katanga), page 3
“He has a wife and son and doesn’t enjoy leaving them for long. I think the other guys are in it for the long haul.”
“We just have to make him offers he can’t refuse. I can’t imagine he is getting wealthy on a small farm. His son is going to go to college in a few years. Not many people can retire at fifty and never worry about working again. I have good news by the way,” Cummings said.
“What would that be?”
“If this job goes well, the Anderson and Lee Mining will be making us substantial offers for any future work. Interested in adding more stock to your portfolio?”
“I’m not interested in any operation that isn’t legit. We are trying to right some wrongs along the way, Cyrus.”
“Oh, it will be legit. The governments and corporations like to work with people who operate lawfully and actually deliver results. I also have my limits, Hadley.”
In spite of the business they were in, integrity was one thing Hadley had managed to hang onto, regardless of the fact that most of the world saw them as blood thirsty mercenaries, not professional soldiers plying their trade. SLEW had refused numerous jobs that were murky. There was enough to go around in the third world. They didn’t need to deal with potentially incriminating and illegal activities.
“Also, a Major Bell will be observing and helping coordinate the Congolese. He is en route as we speak. He supervised the training of the 391st Commando Battalion that contractors hired by AFRICOM put them through. He knows them well. The government is still wary of letting these troops into combat. We convinced them that this would be a good time to get them going. Katanga has been relatively quiet. It’s not like the Kivu provinces. They wanted an American advisor to oversee their operation. They wanted a whole A-team but our side doesn’t want that big of an imprint left right now.”
“That will be a surprise and I’m sure Kruger will be a bit suspicious. I’ll talk with him.”
“If this is a success, I see more business coming our way from the Kabila administration,” Cummings said hopefully.
“Find me one incorruptible African leader and I’ll give all my money to charity,” Hadley said sarcastically.
“As long as the checks cash, my friend…Well, its past my bed time. Call me with updates.”
“Sure thing.”
Chapter 4
The last leg of the flight for Kruger and Salvo was from Paris to Kinshasa. The wide and foreboding Congo River was a familiar site for Willem Kruger. It had been several years since he had been to the capital of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, formerly Zaire. It was a bustling city by itself but with Brazzaville, the capital of the Republic of The Congo right across the river it was a struggling mass of African humanity. Every corner of the city was stifling and showed the poverty of undeveloped and ungoverned humanity. The DRC had more mineral wealth than any place on earth, yet on the Human Index it ranked near the bottom. War, Famine, Superstition and AIDS ruled this place along with the rank corruption of the government.
Kruger thought of Joseph Conrad’s book, The Heart of Darkness. There was no other way to describe the country. Rich in natural resources and beauty, evil men had somehow created hell on earth for its residents. The United Nations had time and again tried to intervene and turn the country around but it was an impotent organization that often times contributed to its depravity. He was never shocked when reading news stories about the Blue Helmets involved in drugs, diamond smuggling and sexual slavery.
Willem Kruger was no saint. He had killed more men than he could remember and many times it was with vengeance. Yet he slept at night with a clean conscience. No man he had killed deserved anything less than what he did to them. The men he worked with felt the same. He was a professional soldier and his job was to accomplish a mission. If that involved killing, so be it. If it was simply escorting a person to a certain destination without any known risk, the result was the same. Mission accomplished.
A driver met them at the airport. A wiry black man held up a sign for Kruger and Salvo. Mr. Smith and Mr. Williams, it said. They got their baggage and left the bustling airport, the driver erratically navigating traffic. The smell and the heat were overpowering but it was something both men were used to in third world countries. The driver said nothing and concentrated on not crashing and making good time to their destination.
A&L Mining had an office in the capital in order to do business with the government and clients from around the world in the Le Gombe district, which sat against the Congo River. The van pulled up to a recently built building and the two men got their bags and thanked the driver and made their way to the 6th floor and KR’s corporate office. They barely set their bags down when a white man opened the door.
“Welcome to Kinshasa, gentlemen,” said the man in an obvious Australian accent. “I’m Jeff Brands, head of ALM’s Mining Operations in the DRC.” Salvo and Kruger shook his hand, introduced themselves and were then led into the back where a room held a small round table and comfortable leather chairs. “Have a seat and I’ll get you some bottled water.”
“Thank you.”
“At least the AC is working,” Salvo said.
Mr. Brands returned with several bottles of water and another man. He was well dressed and very business like. “Hello, gentlemen. I work at the American Embassy here in Kinshasa. I’ll be frank and to the point. I think you know who I work for and I know why you are here. I have to officially let you know that in no way whatsoever are you here to work for the United States of America or any of its agencies. We will register your passports as consultants for Katanga Resources. There is no official or unofficial service we can render to you besides what is offered to any American citizen in the DRC that is here abiding by the laws of this country. Am I clear?”
Both of the men stared at this unnamed person from the Embassy. They both knew he was the Station Chief for the Central Intelligence Agency. He was doing what he had to do. Write them off and let them know that they were on their own and should anything go wrong, they would not be able to intervene or negotiate against the laws of the country.
“We understand and are here as consultants for the Anderson and Lee Mining and their subsidiary Katanga Resources. Your services won’t be needed, Sir,” Kruger said matter of factly.
“Good. I hope that your stay here is a safe and healthy one and that you can conclude your business successfully with Katanga Resources. God Bless.” The Station Chief stood up and left the room.
“Christians In Action. You can always count on them,” Kruger said.
Mr. Brands escorted the man out of the office and came back. “I’m pleased to have you and your company working for us. We had a lot of offers but the people in the know said that SLEW was our best bet. The name has quite a ring to it,” Brands paused with a smile. “Fortunately, this appears to be a limited attack by a small sized rebel gang. Considering what happened in the nineties, the government was on pins and needles worrying about another invasion. Usually, they hit small artisan operations. Assaulting well protected mines is worrisome. We had discussions with President Kabila’s cabinet and they were hesitant to commit their troops to do anything. If it was the beginning of another invasion, they feared that the Army would not be ready to do anything to stop it. Since it’s an obvious attack on our Gold Mining operations, they asked us to take care of it.”
“What about the UN?” Salvo asked
Brands sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. “Besides the occasional food, water and medicine they provide, they are completely useless to anyone in the Congo. Civilians are being massacred and raped by the hundreds along the eastern border. MONUC is drawing down as the New Army supposedly comes together. They were part of the discussions with the Kabila administration. They saw it as our problem, being a for profit business. Even though we are partners with the DRC, they don’t see two small mines as something worth going to war over. The UN’s reps advised against the use of Private Military Companies but the government encouraged us to ‘solve the problem’.”
“That is par for the course. They spend billions of dollars and just sit inside their bases while up the road children are being raped and mutilated. What do you know so far?” Salvo said.
“We have topographical maps of the whole area. Satellite images as recent as a month ago and part of the contract with Mr. Hadley asked for photos since the takeover. We used our planes to get some pretty good pictures of everything as of two days ago.”
“Very nice. What about our equipment? What do we have and where is it?” Kruger asked.
“Once your team arrives, we will fly you to Kolwezi and take you to our compound outside the city. The security men there have procured what you need. The South African company we use is very professional and well connected to the Arms Industry. I will be available and cut through any red tape you might need throughout this. I will give you my direct line and we are providing Sat Phones for all of you. Look, I’m in the mining business. We knew our risks in the Congo. We spent money on security and the government agreed to augment our security but the instability and decision making of this country changes from moment to moment. One day they are in and the next day they are out. As long as they get their money out of the deal, they do whatever they want, whether it makes sense or not.”
“I’m leading this mission, Mr. Brands,” Kruger broke in. “I was born in Rhodesia and have worked all over this continent. We have limited objectives. We want to get your mines back in your hands. We can’t guarantee that after we leave it won’t happen again. We can advise you on better methods to secure your operations. The two mines are our primary objectives and our secondary is to free the missionaries.” Kruger said with clarity
“We asked if this was possible because of the good they do for our workers. The organization they work for would not seek a violent resolution to this but they are indirectly part of our work.”
“Depending on the outcome of the primary objectives, we will have to assess the situation. We are not going to guarantee even an attempt to rescue them.”
“Yes, Mr. Hadley made that clear. When will the rest of the men be here?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good, we will accommodate you in our residential campus and fly you out when you are ready.”
Chapter 5
All the members of Task Force Intrepid came together the next afternoon and then flew south for several hours, landing on a roughly maintained airstrip outside Kolwezi. It was commercial capable but there was no possibility of landing a 747 there. There was a single terminal and a control tower but very few aircraft. The Congolese Air Force was almost nonexistent with the exception of a dilapidated MI-8’s. Angola had pledged air support if the DRC needed it.
All the men were driven to Katanga Resources’ main compound a couple of kilometers outside of town. It had a heavily reinforced fence around the perimeter and inside the buildings were made mostly of masonry blocks and concrete with metal roofs. It was at least 80 hectares and three quarters of it was storage for mining equipment. The entrance was sandbagged with machine guns pits on each side of a guard shack. Several African security guards manned the post that was overseen by a white guard. They all had Kevlar vests and helmets.
Kruger immediately noticed their rifles. One he was intimately familiar with. The South African R4 Assault Rifle. He had went to war with it and kept one in his private collection. The mainstay of the South African Defense Force since the early 80’s, it was still used across Africa. It had taken most of its design from the Israeli Galil ARM assault rifle. Truly battle tested, it was standing the test of time very well.
Hearing the accent of the white guard as they pulled up, Willem greeted him in Afrikaans. “Goeie naand, hoe gaan dit?” The guard smiled and replied that things could be better and ordered the gate to be opened.
The team was let out at the main building. The driver gathered their bags from the back of the van and set them near the door and hopped back in and drove away. The equatorial sun was bright and hot. Kruger immediately knew he was in the Savanna. The smell of the bush and the feel of the air brought back memories of his younger years.
They were greeted by two men. A tall lanky man with sun bleached blond hair, who introduced himself. “I’m Michael Smith, Chief of Regional Field Operations.” He shook hands with the team.
Everyone on the team was surprised at the next man. He wore American BDU’s and the insignia of a Major. His left sleeve and Green Beret told them what he was. Ranger, Airborne, Special Forces and Combat Infantryman tabs littered his uniform.
“I’m Major Dell. I’m on loan to AFRICOM from the 3rd SF group.”
“Pleased to meet another Green Beret,” Salvo said, extending his hand.
Everyone remained quiet as they moved in to the cool of Main Office Building. The last thing they had expected was an American soldier. They were led to the mine’s Central Operations room that had maps covering the walls and computer terminals along the back wall. Communications equipment lined the adjacent wall.
After they sat down, Kruger initiated the obvious conversation. “We were greeted in Kinshasa by the Station Chief and he made it clear that this was a hands off operation and that no US components would be involved in any way,” he said directly to the Major.
“My A Teams have been rotating in and out of the DRC trying to train an elite Battalion of Light Infantry. It’s a slow go. Most of them are from the western part of the country that has not seen much warfare. But there is some progress. News travels fast in the Congo, believe it or not, when money is involved. The Kabila administration wants minimal involvement in this operation because they don’t know who is doing what. This could be anything from a new criminal syndicate to Rwanda, Uganda, Zambia or Zimbabwe trying to take advantage of the UN drawing down. That bastard Mugabe is going to die soon. There is no telling what he is willing to do. He sided with the DRC in the last major war but his ties to the Chinese and North Koreans makes us suspicious. It’s doubtful that the Chinese are backing this because they are heavily invested in legitimate operations here. A new rumble of a serious gold find and the criminals are going to come running. It could be as simple as a band of rebels who want money. They seem to have some organization. It’s a perfect place to raid. If things go bad they can disappear over the border into Angola or Zambia and disappear.
“So what are you here for? Forgive my African suspicion …” asked Kruger.
“What we can provide for you is a limited follow up force to hold the mines and help organize things here as an Ops HQ. Once you do your work, this will be a good training exercise for the 391st Commando Battalion. The mines are partly owned by the Katangan government and the government wants to make sure that AL Mining and Katanga Resources stays in the DRC.”
“And you?”
“I’m an observer on this one, this is not an American operation. However, having built a relationship with the Congolese Brass, I have recommended certain actions to the military to enhance your chances of success.”
“What might that be?”
“I brought down some of our best men that are training in the Reconnaissance Company of the Battalion. They have dropped two caches of supplies in hide sites near the mines. It was good training for them. It’s a 12 man group and they are reliable. This was their first time going live in the field. They took some pictures for you to look at. In addition to that, they brought down some equipment to loan your team along with what KR has. I also managed to ‘borrow’ a couple of things.”
“Mr. Smith, can you give us a run down on what you know?” Kruger asked.
“Basically, Major Bell has as much information or more than we do. We lost five very good engineers. Two American and three Australians. We had about twenty five Congolese Gendamerie on loan from the government at each mine and this band wiped them out. We lost the first mine. They apparently weren’t able to get a message to us that there was a problem. The second mine about ten kilometers away got hit at the same time. They had at least 50 men in the attacks. We don’t know if more are coming or if this is it. We know that most of the mining equipment is operating but it’s hard to believe that a bunch of bush gangsters are operating the equipment,” Mr. Smith replied.
“It leads us to believe that there is some organization to this. They had to have brought in people who know how to run the equipment. They killed off everyone in those camps. Hopefully, we can identify who these Rebels are. Would you like to take a look at the loaner equipment?” Major Dell asked.
“By all means,” Kruger replied.
Chapter 6
The team gathered in the Security building and was greeted by the head South African contractor very heartily. Being tethered to a compound in the desolate Savanna with the same faces day in and day out could be a grind and new faces were always welcome. Mr. Smith introduced the contractor to the team.
“This is Johan, he is from Durban, South Africa. He saved our asses when we were attacked.”
“We’ve pooled all of the weapons for you to choose from. I hope it suits your needs,” Johan said
Colin Taylor was the extrovert of the team. He made friends easily. His good natured Australian surfer boy persona usually broke the ice in awkward situations.
“Right mate, you are from the Durban, eh? Ah, the surf down there is stellar. I was there last year. It’s a little sharky for me but I’d go back in a heartbeat.”
Colin had served in the Australian Special Air Service Regiment for six years and as a regular Digger before that. Although Australia was not known for sticking its nose into the world’s business, he had been deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq. During the SASR’s first deployment to Afghanistan his troop had the responsibility of deep reconnaissance, observing Taliban and Al Qaeda hideouts. They often operated for ten days at a stretch without resupply. Not considered a major player to the Americans, they were left out of planning and their efforts at reconnaissance were barely acknowledged. Colin marveled that the legendary Special Forces of the United States started to grumble when laying up in a Observtion Post for more than Forty Eight hours.
