Joint Task Force #4: Africa (13 page)

The men waited while the petty officer arrayed the coffee. When the mess specialist departed, they both started to speak, interrupting each other.

“Guess you’re wondering—”

“Dan, I would think you—”

They laughed. Dick poured the coffee as he spoke. “I’m sure you have more on your mind than thanking us for our help. After all, you are an American and that’s what we do best: rescue our fellow citizens. Plus, you’ve been the acting president of Liberia for two years.”

Thomaston nodded. “True, I am an American and will always be an American first. The opportunity President Jefferson gave us African-Americans before the Jihadists killed him is something that nearly reaches the same level as being an American. I hold a Liberian passport and like the Jewish community in America, we African-Americans are allowed dual citizenship with Liberia.”

Dick poured some coffee creamer into his cup and stirred. “I’m aware and have to admit it that has turned this nineteenth-century American colony into a role model for the rest of Africa.”

“I appreciate your sentiment, but, unfortunately, I can’t agree with you. Not yet, it hasn’t. Someday, I hope it will. I’ve identified some simple goals for my administration so that whoever is elected next summer will inherit a good infrastructure upon which he or she can build.” Thomaston held up his right hand. “One, I want to make sure our electric-generating capability is stable” One finger went up. “Two, I want pure water and a secure sanitation system for every Liberian.” A second finger rose. “Third and fourth, I hope to make medical services available to each Liberian and give them free education, as we do in America.” He lowered his hand. “Not too complicated, just concentrate on the fundamentals and let whatever administration comes in to build on them.”

“Sounds simple, but I’m sure you’ve had more than your share of challenges in meeting even one of those goals.”

Thomaston shrugged as he lowered his cup. “What I found surprising was the electric-generating part has been the simplest. Just the opposite with education and medical services. I have rediscovered what I already knew from my active military life. When you’re dealing with people, nothing is simple. One man’s lie is another man’s truth.” He lifted the cup and sipped. “And everytime I have to defend education reforms with the people, there is always some faction or other with differing opinions on how that free education is going to be provided. Whether we are going to concentrate solely on the hard sciences, language, and mathematics or incorporate the various social beliefs of each tribe and religion.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” In reaching for his coffee cup, Dick noticed the general’s belt buckle was easily visible. He reached over and shoved the fresh pastries toward Thomaston.
There! Eat this calorie-loaded shit and put on some weight
.

“Of course, every time I have to deal with the hundreds of social issues confronting us, I can’t help but glance at the calendar on the wall in my office and mentally count the days until I turn over the reins of government to a freely elected president.” He pushed his chair away from the table and crossed his legs.

“Rumor has it the people will elect you.” Dick lifted the plate and held it toward Thomaston.

Thomaston shook his head—his eyebrows lifting as he reached forward and took one of the frosted raisin breads. “I haven’t had anything like this in a long while,” he said, biting into it.

“What you don’t eat, I’ll send with you,” Dick said, hoping the mess specialist had made several hundred.

Thomaston took another bite and the pastry disappeared. “Good,” he mumbled through a full mouth. He
slapped his hands together a couple of times, wiping the sugar off them. Then, he reached down and straightened the crease on his gray slacks.

“What if the people decide they want you to continue on as president?”

“They can’t elect you, if you refuse to run.”

Dick nodded.

“I’m aware of the mythical position some people have put me in, but the bottom line is I seized the power of government when this fanatic Abu Alhaul and his minions ripped through Monrovia and most of Liberia, killing and destroying the government of President Jefferson. If it hadn’t been for own little ‘Alamo’ in Kingsville and the strength your forces brought into the fray, Liberia today could have become one more sump for the Jihadists to spread death and destruction. A failed state decaying further into chaos—a ripe breeding ground for terrorists.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that anymore,” Dick offered.

“He’s still out there, but I think he is on the run.” Thomaston uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “I’m here for two reasons.” He held up one finger. “First, we’ve about cleared out the Jihadist strongholds in Liberia and believe we have secured our borders sufficiently to keep a resurgence from occurring.” He lowered his hand. “We have also won the hearts and minds of the people—something we army types have talked about in every conflict since the Korean War and always found hard to do. Killing is so much easier than talking, and when you’re killing the natives, it’s hard to win their hearts while their minds are scared shitless. But I like to think we did it here. We won their hearts and minds by improving the quality of life for the citizens— modern roadways, plumbing, free schooling, and a growing health care. All of that supported by a growing electrical
base. Another initiative I would like to set on its way before I leave is a better telecommunications structure.”

“Sounds like a success story to me.”

Thomaston bit his lower lip, pensive for moment. “In a way, it is. What most Americans fail to understand is that we Americo-Liberians make up less than three percent of Liberia’s population. Another five percent trace their heritage back to the United States and the Caribbean Islands. The United States and repatriated Africans from the Caribbean Islands made up the bulk of the former slaves transported here in the early eighteen hundreds.”

“Eight percent.”

“Right. Eight percent of the people of Liberia are our true base. The remaining ninety-two percent are native Liberians, native to the tribes who inhabited this country long before America decided to repatriate slaves to Africa.” He leaned forward again. “Did you know the only reason we started this repatriation back in the early eighteen hundreds was because we were following the British in their experiment with Sierra Leone?” He leaned back in the chair.

Dick held the pastry plate toward Thomaston, who took another one.
Good, good
.

“The first trip from America back to Africa offloaded the repatriated slaves in Sierra Leone.” He bit into the pastry, much to Dick’s enjoyment.

Thomaston reached out and topped off his coffee.

“I’m afraid I don’t see what the problem is, Daniel,” Dick said. “In setting up a democracy, various factions compete for power, though in a perfect world, it should be programs and positions that carry the day. That’s the way America is and was built.”

“This isn’t America,” Thomaston replied as a crumb tumbled down his chin.

Dick detected a slight ire in the response and nodded. “I guess you’re going to tell me America doesn’t really understand the challenges you are facing here in Liberia. I guess I should add that most Americans aren’t engaged on a daily basis with much of what goes on outside their local areas. I think we both know that. So, what is your concern about the different origins of Liberians?”

“My concern is that there has always been an underlying prejudice by the native Liberians against us Americo-Liberians, whom they view as interlopers.”

“Kind of like a carpetbagger.”

Thomaston nodded. “Good analogy. There will be those who will abuse these new freedoms to throw a wedge between our two groups, instead of working to make us one people.”

“I would submit, General, that with the terrorist Abu Alhaul and the African National Army running around, the fact of a common threat will promote unity, even though I agree with you that Liberia has passed the point where it has to be too concerned about a resurgence. Just have to have a sense of alert awareness. You agree?”

“I do,” Thomaston replied, wiping his chin with a napkin from the table. “And I am confident that the majority of native Liberians will stand with us Americo-Liberians against a resurrection of the Jihadist movement.” He leaned back, resting his elbows on the chair arms, with his hands raised, fingers laced together. “This is the second reason I came here. The Jihadist movement is dead in Liberia. Sure, there are a few simmering sections, but local authorities have them well in hand. What we don’t have in hand is the cry for African nationalism being heralded by this so-called General Ojo and his African National Army.”

“They’re staying out of Liberia, I’m told,” Dick replied.
“And they haven’t done anything that would cause us to get too excited, though we are watching them.”

“For the time being, they are staying out of Liberia. I had an audience with the French ambassador a couple of months ago, who told me of an incident at one of their air bases in the Ivory Coast where the African National Army attacked and destroyed one of their aircraft.”

Dick nearly choked on the coffee he had just swallowed. The man was referring to the so-called Joint Task Force France that he authorized and his Seabees in Harper, Liberia, executed. He glanced up, to meet the hard stare of Thomaston.

“Admiral, I think you’ve just answered a curious itch of mine.”

“Itch? Don’t know what you mean, General.”

“Oh, don’t get too proper with me.” Before Dick could reply, Thomaston continued. “My intelligence service, which is basically human intelligence—HUMINT, you and I would call it—have discovered that a rogue American element may have been involved. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Dick set his cup on the table in front of them. “I know nothing about the Africans attacking the French, but I hope they were successful.”

Thomaston laughed. “I really have you against the ropes, don’t I, Admiral.” He unlaced his hands and lifted his cup again.

“What—”

Thomaston shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me, Dick. I’m not going to press you for the truth. It’s probably something I don’t want to know, but eventually my contacts at the American Embassy will fill in the blanks for me. Besides, my issue isn’t with your incursion into the Ivory Coast,
though the continuing bickering between our country— America—and France impacts the fragile, but growing economy of Liberia. We’re like two sibling brothers who can’t decide whose turn it is to throw the ball.”

“Dan, you know I have no control over the politics of our nation nor those of other nations,” Holman said. “Like you when you were on active duty, I fight our nation’s wars to win. I don’t determine what battlefield on which I will fight nor do I decide who my adversary is; I execute the orders of the President of the United States.”

Thomaston drained his coffee. He laughed as he put the cup down. Dick offered him another pastry. “Admiral, I think you’re trying to get me fat.”

“If I had your metabolism, Dan, I’d eat everyone of them.” He put the plate back on the table. “When you leave, I insist you take them with you.”

“I couldn’t have said it better about our country. When I was commander of the 82nd Airborne, I marched to the drums of the politicians. But I’m not now. I’m retired, my country allows me to draw the pension of a three-star Army general, and also allows me to hold dual citizenship. Liberia is my other nation, a nation I now lead. I probably have more control over America’s politics as president of Liberia than you do as a one-star admiral.” Thomaston leaned forward. “I sound like one of those checker players on the steps of an old Georgian courthouse, talking about ‘way back when I was’ stories. I have an important reason for meeting you pierside, Dick, rather than wait for your formal visit tomorrow.”

Dick’s eyebrows bunched, questioningly.

Thomaston leaned back. “Let me give you some background first. I told you my challenges in Liberia between us Americo-Liberians and those who consider themselves native Liberians. Well, my intelligence service is telling
me that a large portion of the native Liberians are supporters of this African National Army. You know the old adage, Dick: one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter. So far, the ANA have remained out of Liberia. For you to keep within classified channels, I have a spy that is very close to this General Ojo. For the time being, the ANA is on our side because this Ojo is after the same person we are—Abu Alhaul. This Ojo has a unique way of dealing with the Jihadists that we, as Americans, could never do.”

Dick waited as Thomaston paused.
If a method of dealing with the growing threat of terrorism was out there and it was effective, then why wouldn’t we use it?
he asked himself.

“I’ll satisfy your curiosity on their method shortly,” Thomaston said in answer to the unasked question. “Right now, the ANA wants to rid Africa of the Jihadists just as we do. They then intend to turn their attention to the other nongovernment agencies in West Africa who are not African in nature. I’m sure you’re aware of the Baptist and Mormon missionaries, along with several priests and nuns, whom they’ve physically escorted out of what they believe to be their areas. This is only the start.” Thomaston uncrossed his legs. “Eventually they will engage the Western powers—mainly the U.S. and France—but my sources tell me they will use the United Nations and the world press as their vehicles for driving you—and those of us with dual citizenship—out of Africa. The primary reason the ANA has steered clear of Liberia is you—the growing presence of American forces. That hasn’t stopped them from recruiting Liberians into their forces. It has kept them from conducting operations within this country, but it hasn’t kept their fiery rhetoric out of Liberia.”

“What can we do?”

Thomaston shrugged. “You can share your information
with our intelligence services, for one. The other is you can track them better and quicker than we can with your satellites and aircraft.”

“We have a VQ-2 EP-3E Aries II bird flying down here now.”