Chapter 11
There was no way they could keep a low profile now. The explosion had made the entire city nervous, and a convoy of armed men didn’t help. People scattered at their approach, disappearing like bats exposed to sudden light.
“Pull over,” he said, irritated, as they neared where Marwa had indicated Korfa’s store to be located.
Lorna glanced over, but did as requested. Bol’s men pulled over behind them. “What’s the problem,” Lorna asked.
“Korfa will disappear the moment he sees these idiots with guns!” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “We need to ditch these clowns and talk to Korfa alone. Course, I would just love to kill everyone one of the murdering whoremongers.”
“Yeah, I know how you feel. What do you propose?”
“We need to get away from the vehicles too. Everyone around here knows that only men with guns have a working vehicle.” Bill hopped out of the jeep. “We’re going to have to walk, and we’re going to have to do it without an escort.”
Lorna followed more slowly. “You’re the boss, boss. But isn’t that a bit dangerous?”
“Probably, but we’ll never find any answers like this.” He turned and walked back to where Luk Bol sat, idly fingering his automatic weapon and eyeing the American dangerously. Bill had to repeat to himself not to kill the man. “Look, buddy, my partner and I are going to walk from here. How can we contact you when we are finished?”
The mercenary’s face was a study in sulkiness. The man’s bald head glistened in the heat, and somewhere, someone or something had chewed off his left ear, leaving a mass of scar tissue and a small hole where the ear used to be. His eyes narrowed, causing long wrinkles to appear on his face. “No. We are to be going with you.”
Bill waved the comment aside. “That won’t work. People are hiding from you. Scared. Big explosion, remember? I can’t find the murderers of those children unless I can talk to people. Give me one of your radios and I’ll call you once we are finished.
Luk obviously didn’t believe a word of it. He shook his head. “No. You can’t be going alone. It be too dangerous, man.”
The lawyer frowned. He detected a bit of a South African accent from the mercenary. How odd. He paused to consider his options. No doubt Bol had been ordered not to allow the Americans to leave his sight, which made sense. Bill would have done the same thing if Luk Bol had come to America, but with all the fear in the city, he needed to do something. “Fine. One of your men may go with us. But he can’t carry one of those.” Bill tapped the weapon Bol held. “Concealed sidearm only.”
The slobbering lips of the mercenary seemed to dry up noticeably as he sucked them into his mouth in thought. Finally he nodded. “I’ll be going with you then.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Bill turned and started back towards Lorna. The woman looked calm, but the slight shift in her stance spoke of edginess. “Okay,” he said for her ears alone. “I got rid of most of the riffraff.”
She noticed Bol handing over his rifle to one of his subordinates and checking his sidearm. “Looks like we got the king of riffraff coming though.”
Bill glanced back, his expression dark. “Well, you know, we can’t have everything in life. But if I get have a chance, I’m going to…”
“Keep a lid on it,” she replied. “If he ends up dead, we’ll never get out of the country. Not alive anyway.”
Bill’s lips thinned in frustration. Finally, he shrugged. “I think he thinks this is a waste of time—our hunt anyway. He probably believes us to be spies.”
“Exactly what would we be spying on?” she asked, rolling her eyes.
“Exactly.”
When Bol caught up to them, the trio set out into the town. Immediately, they began to see more people. Every pair of eyes held deep suspicion, but they didn’t disappear or run away as Bill approached, though they intentionally kept their distance. From the few people he did see, he spotted an older man who sat in the shade of a doorway.
“Good sir, I’m looking for a man named Korfa,” he said, addressing the man in his spotty Arabic.
The man wielded a dull knife and was carving away at a piece of wood. Without looking up, he shook his head. “I don’t know any Korfa,” he said—or at least he thought that was what the man said.
Bol frowned and moved forward, no doubt to try more physical means of extracting the information. Bill cut him off, giving him a dangerous glare. “Try to interfere in my business again and I goddamn guarantee you a trip out of this sorry land in a body bag!” Bol didn’t react.“He would be a seller of…items…” he continued with the old man, trying hard to remember his Arabic. “I have something to sell.”
The old man looked up briefly, taking in the faces of the three who confronted him. The lawyer had no doubt that he had correctly sized-up his unwanted guests up. He pointed down the street with his knife. “That way.”
Thanking him, the trio moved on down the road. It took time, but eventually they found the blue building that Marwa had mentioned. The shop was a seedy place, not too far from the landfill. Piles of junk lined a narrow walkway that meandered, more or less, down the center of the small building. Branches in the path led to more of the piled junk. Bill couldn’t see anyone, so he yelled, “Korfa!”
“Here!” came the response in Arabic. The voice sounded as if it had come from the back of the shop.
Shrugging, Bill moved ahead, followed closely by Lorna and Luk Bol. They took three wrong turns before finding a way to a short counter where a middle aged man sat looking at several pieces of metal before him. He wore a white, grease stained apron, small spectacles, and a long beard—equally stained. He glanced up at his visitors and switched to English. “Ah! Americans! So glad you come to my humble shop. Best shop in city! Best deals! You buy?”
Once again, the ex-marine had to step in front of Bol before the mercenary could get close to the shop owner. The man had a one track mind.
“Yes,” the lawyer said, leaning up against the counter and pulling a wad of money from his pocket. The man’s eyes grew round with greed and a small twitch developed near his right eye. “I want to buy some information. I was told you may know what I want to know.”
The man put his hand on his chest. “If Korfa know, you will know,” he promised, never taking his eyes from the wad of bills.
“Excellent.” Bill peeled one of the bills off and set it on the counter, not taking his hand away. “Two boys were brutally murdered and then burned in the landfill a week ago or so. I was told that you might know something about it.”
“Very sad, very tragic,” Korfa said, pulling the bill from out of Bill’s grasp and making it disappear under his apron. “I knew the boys.”
“Do you know why they were killed?”
The man stayed silent, staring back at Bill and wearing an infernal smile that radiated greed. Bill sidestepped Luk Bol again, giving him a withering look. “I’ll handle this.” He turned back to the shop owner and placed another bill on the counter. “Do you?”
The man took the bill and shook his head. “No. One boy tried to sell me worthless metal same day killed.”
Lorna stepped up. “Do you mean that one of the two murdered boys had tried to sell you something the same day he was killed?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?” she asked.
He remained silent until another bill hand been deposited on the counter. “I do not know what it was. This big.” He held his hands out. “Black…very heavy. Worthless.”
“Why was it worthless?”
“No open. Just metal.”
Bill thought. “Was there any writing or markings on it?”
Korfa nodded.
“What?” he asked, handing over another bill.
“Symbol and writing. English.”
“What was the symbol?”
Korfa considered his response. He didn’t possess the vocabulary in English necessary to describe what he had seen. But he could draw it. Taking out
a piece of paper and a stubby pencil, he drew the symbol for Bill.
Bill and Lorna looked at it and both let out a sigh. It was the US Air Force symbol. Lorna might not know the significance of it, but her innate intelligence told her that it couldn’t be good that an object belonging to the Air Force, had been offered for sale halfway around the world.
The lawyer, however, knew what this meant. A piece of the aircraft that had been ordered destroyed, had not been destroyed. Somehow the pirates had succeeded in getting some of the components off the ship before it had been reclaimed. He needed to report this as soon as possible. It seemed obvious to him that someone had killed the boy for the object.
Lorna thought so too. “You think this object is why the boys were killed?”
“Probably.” He looked back at Korfa and handed over another bill. “One more question. Do you know anyone who is looking for American metal?”
The man grinned broadly and nodded. “Sure. They sometimes come here to look. They never say, but I overhear.”
“Good. Who?”
“The Chinese.”
Bill and Lorna let out another collective sigh.
A direct satellite link from the cockpit of the private airplane allowed Bill the opportunity to talk to General Hynes privately. Lorna sat in the passenger section enjoying a bottle of cold, filtered water—an improvement over anything else they had to drink recently. Luk Bol waited in his jeep outside, keeping a wary eye on the American plane.
“Our experts confirm,” the General said through the video screen, “that the object in question is the main CPU of the prototype. It runs the targeting algorithms, early detection systems, and evasion modes. Installed properly, it can be lethal in unfriendly hands. We must retrieve it as soon as possible.”
“That might be a problem, General,” Bill said. “As far as I can tell, the piece was smuggled out by the Chinese about a week ago. No doubt their scientists are examining it as we speak.”
The General cursed, and Bill watched the man begin drumming his fingers on the table. “This is not acceptable, Captain.”
“How dangerous is this piece? Can it be reversed engineered?”
“The general consensus is that it cannot be. Opening the seal on the box renders the CPU worthless. All data will be lost and without the data, the schematics are worthless too.”
“But…”
The General sighed. “But there is nothing to stop them from using the one they have. It is more of a plug and play piece of technology.”
“General, if I may, why build something that would be so easy to use by the enemy? This isn’t some blasted home computer we’re talking about.”
“This was a prototype, Captain. It was never meant to go into combat. Heck, it was never meant to leave US soil. If we started mass production, we would have engineered a piece that would be worthless or at least secure if it fell into the wrong hands.
“I see.”
“The point is, Captain, they can use the part they have. They couldn’t duplicate it, perhaps, but they could build a single aircraft around it or modify one they have to be compatible with its systems.”
“That’s not good.”
“No it isn’t. At the very least, the Chinese would have a single superior aircraft capable of creating havoc over the skies of less advanced countries. Blast it, Captain, it could cause our own Air Force significant problems before we could shoot it down!”
Bill sat back, trying to digest it all. “It seems certain the Chinese have it?”
Hynes nodded. “The analysis of the burned cloth that Lieutenant Lorna sent us confirms that the accelerant used was of Chinese origin. This is too much of a coincidence to ignore. A pickup in the chatter of their intelligence services suggest that something big is going down.”
“Is there any way to retrieve the object?”
“Now that it is on Chinese soil? Very unlikely. Even if we knew where it was at, we would have no way of getting it short of a full military strike. The President is loath to commit to something that extreme.”
Yes, Bill could see the political fallout of that incident would make the Cold War look warm and fuzzy by comparison. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Right now? Return Stateside. Once we locate the part, we will try to put a covert plan into action to either retrieve or destroy it.”
“So I’m done? I can go home?”
“You can come home, son, but we’re far from through with you. The Joint Chiefs are reluctant to bring too many more people in on the secret of this disaster. We want to keep the people who are in the know to as few as possible. That means you will remain on active duty until this crisis is resolved.”
Gardner sighed. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“Meaning that it will probably be you that we send to retrieve the object.”
Heaving one last deep sigh, Bill said aloud, “Why me?”
“Because we love you, son.”
The lawyer rolled his eyes. “Since when did the military love anyone?”
“Oh, we love you. We love you when you follow orders.”
“Figures…sir.”
“Always does.”
The line went dead, leaving Bill to his own thoughts. He sat in silence for a moment, thinking. Finally, he stood up and walked to the cockpit of the plane. The two pilots sat chatting as he opened the small door. “Get the plane ready. We’ll be leaving soon.”
“About time,” the blond pilot muttered. “This isn’t the most hospitable country in the world.”
“The freaking country has gone to blazes,” the other red-nosed pilot agreed.
“Just get us ready to takeoff. I have a little business to attend to.”
The blond pilot eyed him askance. “You going far?”
“No, just outside.”
Both pilots turned to see Luk Bok leaning casually against his jeep. One other soldier sat in the jeep, wrapping a red handkerchief over his head. Bill recognized the soldier as one of the two had been ordered to kill the Mayor.
Good.
“He doesn’t look to be a very sociable fellow,” one of the pilots whispered. “You sure you just don’t want us to take off right now? We have clearance.”
“Somalia doesn’t have an air force do they?”
“No. Just a collection of rickety boats and lots of guns. No planes to speak of.”
“Do they have a treaty with a neighboring nation with an air force?”
“Nope,” blond pilot responded. “Their government is still not officially recognized by any nation that I know of.”
“Good.” Gardner spun on his heels and made his way to the door. Lorna met him there, having overhead the conversation.
“What are you going to do, Gardner?”
“There is no justice in this city. I thought to add a bit before we go.”
She put a hand on his chest. “Don’t. You may wind up dead, and I don’t know how I can explain that to the General.”
He brushed her hand aside. “You saw what he did, Lorna! You saw that little girl. I’m not going to let him get away with it.”
“Don’t try to kill them,” she insisted. “That won’t make matters better.”
“I won’t kill them. But if you don’t get out of my way, I’ll move you myself.” His anger came bubbling up, a cold, lethal rage that seethed like a cauldron too long on a fire.
Startled, Lorna stepped back, and Bill swept by her and pushed open the door and activated the extending steps. Before the lieutenant could say anything else or attempt to interfere, Bill was down the steps and marching towards the two mercenaries.
Both saw him coming of course, but the driver took one look and then went back to being bored, figuring that Bol would talk to and deal with the ugly American. Bol stood up straighter and took a firmer grip on his automatic weapon. Perhaps it was the way Gardner walked or the expression on his face, but Luk Bol knew instantly why Bill was coming. He grinned as the American walked up to him. “Hey, ma
n, you going to teach me a lesson, eh?”
Bill nodded curtly. “More than that, Bol. I’m going to give you a new career.”
The inference was completely lost on the murdering mercenary. The only warning Gardner received was the when the smile dropped off the pirate’s face. Bill ducked as the big man swung his rife viciously at the ex-marine’s face. The moment the rifle cleared his head, Bill launched a vicious blow to Bol’s solar plexus. The attempt to take Bill’s head off had turned the mercenary’s body slightly so that Bill’s blow didn’t hit square. The glancing punch only succeeded in knocking the pirate into the side of the jeep.
He staggered, trying to regain position to keep the American from hitting him again. Bill had other worries. He snapped a kick at Bol’s weapon hand, and succeeded in knocking the rifle from the other’s grasp. The assault weapon hit the side of the jeep and clattered to the ground.
Bol cursed, and launched himself at the lawyer with a roar. Although not trained in hand to hand combat as Bill had been, Luk Bol possessed the instincts of a brawler who knew how to fight dirty. Gardner twisted to avoid a knee to the crotch and then felt himself practically bowled over as the pirate grappled with him.
Bol was stronger…much stronger as Bill found out. With a surge, Bol lifted Bill over his head and threw him bodily to the ground. Bill hit the hard packed dirt with a short cry of pain as he felt one of his ribs crack. He kept the presence of mind, however, to roll partially aside to avoid a heavy boot that tried to smash his face in. He then grabbed the boot, and using it as a fulcrum, twisted around and cut Bol’s feet out from under him.
An angry cry escaped the pirate’s lips as he too found himself flat on the ground. Bill took advantage of his opponent’s situation and rolled over the top of the other man, delivering an elbow to the man’s nose that shattered it. Continuing his roll, Bill came up off the ground having found and captured Bol’s lost weapon.
The other pirate had slowly come alive with the fight and Bill found him standing in the jeep with his own weapon trained in the direction of the two combatants. He never expected the American to come up with a weapon of his own and so stood their mutely while Gardner calmly shot him once in the head.
“Sorry, Lorna,” he muttered. Well, he would worry about breaking his promise to the woman some other time. He spun around in time to see Bol grasping for him. He slammed the butt of the rifle into the man’s ribs and heard a satisfied crack of a broken rib. “Now we’re even,” he said loudly, standing to his feet. He pointed the assault weapon at Bol, who seeing no chance of escape, paused and spit at the American.
“Well, get on with it then,” he barked, wiping blood away from his crushed nose.
“Remember that girl I was talking to?” Bill asked. “The one right before your men killed the Mayor of Merca?”
“What are you talking about, man?”
Bill sighed. The man didn’t even remember the girl. The man’s twisted mind probably never recalled any of the carnage or individual faces of his victims. “You killed her.”
The man glowered. “I killed many people, man. So you kill me now?”
“No. I’m going to change your career.”
“What you mean by that, man?”
“You’re going to become the prey instead of the predator.”
Bill calmly shot Bol in the right kneecap. Bol screamed and grabbed at his shattered knee. He screamed again when Gardner shot him in the left kneecap.
“You’re never going to walk again,” he hissed, tossing the gun over the jeep where Bol couldn’t readily get to it. “I suspect in a country like this, they will find little use for a cripple!”
Tears of pain and fury seeped from the wounded man’s eyes. He cursed and swore as the lawyer walked away. Bill put the man out of his mind. He hoped somewhere the little girl would rest more peacefully, knowing that the murdering scum would probably not live long enough to hurt anyone else.
Lorna and the blond pilot met him at the door to the plane. “You can leave now,” he said to the pilot.
The man looked past Bill to Bol, who writhed in agony on the ground. “Yeah, I think we better.” He scurried off to get the plane off the ground and headed towards the United States.
Lorna said nothing. Her eyes were a mystery to him. He didn’t sense condemnation, sadness maybe, but no judgment. Bill figured that even if she didn’t say so, she agreed with Bol’s fate.
“Let’s go home,” he said, wincing as his broken rib caused a stab of pain to lance through his chest. “I may need to see a doctor.”
Bill was badly injured. He was probably hit by some object during the fight. Moments later, he plunged into the darkness, leaving Lorna and the pilots to worry about his condition. Nobody knew if he would make it through.