PRIMAL Vengeance (3) (21 page)

       "He's right, isn't he?" she asked Bishop.

       Mitch closed the laptop and gestured for Mirza to join him. Jess waited for the two men to wander back towards Dragonfly before she continued.

       "They can't win, not without more help."

       Bishop took a second to reply, noticing the doctor seemed to look more beautiful the dirtier she became. Her soft features were covered in the grime of Africa: blood, dirt and cordite.

       "Where there is a will, there is always a way."

       "It's the will that I'm worried about."

       Bishop noticed that she was still carrying the AK he had given her, slung over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

       "He is changing, Aden. The will isn't there any more. I'm worried he's giving up."

       "You need to keep him focused, Jess."

       "How can I do that when he won't even look at me, let alone talk to me?"

       "Combat does funny things to people, Jess. Believe me, I've seen enough of it to know. He might seem a little distant but I don't think he's about to throw in the towel."

       "Aden!" Mitch yelled from Dragonfly's open door.

       "Look, I've got to check in with my HQ but I'll be around later if you want to talk some more."

       "OK." Jess smiled and Bishop couldn't help but return the gesture. Then he turned on his heel and jogged towards the aircraft and a video conference with the Bunker.

Chapter 31

Kaljak Village, Abyei District

"What's the time over there, team?" Vance's voice filled the cabin of the PRIMAL aircraft, even though he and Chua were sitting in one of the PRIMAL conference rooms in the Bunker nearly 7,000 kilometers away. Dragonfly was still on the ground in Kaljak with Mitch, Bishop, and Mirza sitting in the cabin, using the aircraft's comms package to establish the video conference with their HQ.

       "Just after 1700," replied Bishop as he unwrapped a protein bar.

       "So by my calculations it's been forty-eight hours since I've heard from you. Too busy to drop me a line and tell me what the fuck is going on?"

       "Sorry about that, Vance, but we've had some issues at this end," he said between mouthfuls. "After the defensive operations we bugged out to Kaljak and since then we've been trying to get things sorted."

       "No problem with that. What I don't like is getting my blue force info from my intel guy. Chua's got enough on his plate trying to track down this Yang fucker without having the ops staff leaning over his shoulder every five minutes."

       "Yeah, OK, I get it. We'll keep you up to date."

       "Damn straight you will. Just because you're always going in all guns blazing doesn't mean you can't find five minutes to dial home."

       "Hey, I wasn't the one blazing away. This time it was Mitch that saved the day," replied Bishop. He grinned as the PRIMAL pilot leaned out of the camera view and started shaking his bearded head making a chopping motion with his hand.

       Vance raised his voice. "How the hell did he do that? Pretty damn sure I told him to keep that bird the fuck out of trouble."

       "All good," Bishop backpedalled. "He just got the villagers out on time. Meant that Mirza and I could unleash hell on the Janjitards."

       "Hmmm, why is it I think you're spinning me more shit than a Senator at a congressional hearing?"

       "Scout's honor," said Bishop.

       "I suppose you're not going to sell them out, are you, Mirza?"

       "I would prefer not to be placed in that position, Vance."

       "Well, the watchies here are telling me Dragonfly's running green across the board, so you can't have run it that close to the edge."

       "Course not, boss," added Mitch. "Babied her all the way." Vance did not need to know about the bullet holes or emergency repairs he had done.

       "Moving right along, Chua and I saw the feed from the refinery. Looks like they're building up for another push."

       "Yep, too big for us to deal with," Bishop added. "We'd be playing whack-a-mole for a full month trying to deal with those bastards."

       "My thoughts exactly, Aden," added Chua. "My team thinks there are at least 2-300 new fighters at the PETROCON facility. We've also hacked the Saudi Air Traffic Control system. PETROCON has four of their tail numbers clearing Saudi airspace in the next seventy-two hours. They're shipping in a ton of gear."

       "Puts the SFF up shit creek without a paddle. How long will it take the Janjaweed to build up?" asked Bishop.

       "Depends on a few factors. Firstly, if they're keen they can move in over the next twenty-four using what weapons they have. However, I think it's more likely they'll wait for all the gear. Give them a few days to break it out and knock over basic training and you've got a week."

       "Not a lot of time," said Bishop. "And no hope of the UN bolstering their forces to counter them?"

       "Nope, the Chinese vetoed the last call for an increase in troop numbers. Current forces are insufficient."

       "Excuse me, gentlemen," Mirza interrupted. "What about this Omar character that keeps coming up? The Janjaweed commander we questioned said he worked for him and Garang thinks that he's the man behind the whole campaign. Chua, you also mentioned him during our initial briefing."

       "Excellent point, Mirza. My source in Khartoum tells me that Omar is running an independent operation. He's got the unsanctioned support of the government as they cannot afford to be publicly associated with his actions."

       "So Omar's running his own government-endorsed black ops with support from PETROCON," said Bishop.

       "That's my assessment. I'm about to launch an op into China to follow up on the PETROCON side of the house. We're stretched pretty thin at the moment but I think Saneh can handle it."

       Bishop raised an eyebrow at the mention of the Iranian operative's name. "More than capable."

       "So what would happen if we took this clown Omar out?" asked Mitch.

       "It would build on our current strategy," said Vance. "The Janjaweed build-up would be disrupted, buying us more time. And it would send a clear message to the corrupt fatcats in PETROCON headquarters."

       "So what are we waiting for?" asked Bishop.

       "I've already put a target pack together on his office building, Chinese built of course. Not the most detailed pack but you'll get the basic layout."

       "Garang's been inside," added Mirza. "He was with the Dinka chief when he was beheaded. Should be able to give us an idea where to find Omar's office."

       Bishop nodded. "And let's not discount ambushing the prick on his way to work. Our time frames are tight but we can still get creative." He glanced at his watch. "If we punch out now, we can be in Khartoum by mid-morning tomorrow. I reckon we should go by road. That frees up Mitch to fly in more kit for the SFF."

       The pilot nodded in agreement.

       "Mirza and I will roll into town, recon the key locations and come up with a plan," continued Bishop.

       "Mission approved," confirmed Vance. "Chua and I will be working it from this end. Do you have all the gear you need?"

       "I've got full assault rigs on board along with some other bits and pieces that the lads might find a use for," said Mitch.

       "OK, it's a wrap. Oh, one other thing, Bish. What happened to that Janjaweed motherfucker you captured?"

       "He's hanging around with the locals, and I mean that in the most literal sense possible."

Chapter 32

Kaljak Village, Abyei District

"I want to come with you," Jonjo said as he helped Mirza load equipment into the back of the Wildcat. It was early evening and the night air was already filled with the cries of predators on the hunt. The two men worked in the faint glow of the vehicle's interior lighting, stacking the equipment cases between the truck's bench seats.

       "You are needed here," replied Mirza.

       "One more fighter here will not make a difference. I want to kill Omar. He killed my chief and my friends."

        Mirza finished with the last of the pelican cases and turned to face the young African warrior. "Jonjo, this isn't about revenge. It is about survival. With you here, Garang and the other men have the best chance of surviving."

       "What about you and Aden? Who will make sure you survive?"

       Mirza laughed. "Keeping Aden alive is my full-time job."

       "Then who will look after you?"

       Mirza stroked his short beard as he thought. "We look after each other. He just seems to attract more trouble. You need to look after Garang and your men."

`     At mention of the SFF leader Jonjo dropped his eyes and kicked at the tire of the Wildcat.

       "What's wrong? You don't think Garang needs you to look after him?"

       "Garang treats me like a child."

       "He looks to you like a younger brother. He is proud of the man you will become but cautious that it happens too fast. He's also carrying a great responsiblity. He needs your help."

       Jonjo nodded. In the faint lighting Jonjo studied the Indian. With his beard, Asiatic features and broad smile he looked nothing like Garang. Yet he was more of a warrior than Garang would ever be. He was the man Jonjo aspired to emulate.

       While Mirza and Jonjo were talking, Bishop, Jess and Garang sat under the boab tree next to Dragonfly. Bishop was running them over the plan while sipping warm tea from a battered enamel cup.

       "You need to maintain the momentum, Garang. If you back off now, the Janjaweed will re-group and come back stronger than ever."

       The African shook his head. "I disagree. We are the ones who need to consolidate. We have dealt our enemy a great blow. Now we need to gather more supporters and share the burden of the war. If you are successful in Khartoum, that will be enough pressure to keep the Janjaweed at bay until I have more fighters."

       "The men are starting to trickle in. You've already replaced your losses. Mitch will continue to fly in weapons and you have the men to train them. You need to maintain the momentum."

       "No, we need to rest," insisted Garang.

       "Listen to Aden," Jess said earnestly. "We've achieved so much. It would be stupid to let that go."

       "Shut up," snapped Garang. "What makes you think you know anything of strategy?"

       "Garang, there's no need—" Bishop started.

       "Enough. I have made my decision. We will conduct patrols while you are gone but we will not seek out the Janjaweed until we are stronger. I don't want to hear any more about it." With that he stormed off into the darkness leaving Bishop and Jess sitting alone.

       "He's lost his will to fight," she said.

       "We've seen a lot of fighting these last few days, Jess. Maybe he just needs a break."

       "No, he's losing the fire he had before. That was what drew me to him." The doctor looked as if she was close to tears. Bishop wanted to hold her but she rose from her seat.    "Goodnight and good luck, Aden." She gave him a sad look and disappeared towards her own hut.

       Bishop downed the rest of his tea and made his way over to where Jonjo and Mirza were talking next to the Wildcat. "Mirza, you good to roll?"

       "Everything is ready."

       "Alright, Mitch is going to fly out for more weapons. Garang is going to try and rally more troops. Jonjo, Garang's going to need your help to get them trained on the gear that's coming in."

       The young soldier nodded and trotted off into the darkness.

       "What, no goodbyes?" Bishop asked.

       "He wanted to come with us," Mirza said. "He understands his place is here with the other fighters. Doesn't mean he's happy about it."

        "Kid's a jet in the bush but I think he might be out of his depth in Khartoum." Bishop opened the passenger door to the Wildcat and climbed in.

       "I agree he is of far more value here." Mirza took the driver's seat and switched on the headlights. He gunned the supercharged V8, driving north.

       They passed the SFF checkpoint, slowing to wave to the pair of sentries before heading into the darkness. Behind them a pair of hyenas reared up on their hind legs, snapping at the body that hung from a tree. Sagrib's corpse turned slowly until its bulging eyes faced the set of red tail-lights disappearing into the distance.

Chapter 33

Khartoum, Sudan

The Wildcat probably wasn't the best choice for covert ops in Sudan's capital, reflected Bishop as they drove into Khartoum. Although from a distance the Land Rover did not attract attention, close up it was evident it was a high performance vehicle with an unusual number of antennas. Bishop checked the pistol stashed in his door pocket. If any Sudanese security forces pulled them over, he was ready to fight. The weaponry they were carrying in the back would be certain to land them in jail if discovered.

       Mirza drove them directly into the business district. The medium-rise buildings and paved roads of downtown Khartoum were a change from the south, the first real city they had seen since arriving in East Africa. Fortunately the early morning streets were quiet and they pulled into their hotel without incident.

       "Khartoum Palace, hey? This place is a goddamn dump." Bishop dropped his gear in the middle of the hotel room after checking in. The violent action disturbed a family of cockroaches. They scurried under the faded, salmon-colored lounge.

       Mirza surveyed the worn carpet and peeling wallpaper. "Grass huts and Africa's finest night time skies; we've been a little spoiled, Bish."

       Bishop laughed as he parted the curtains on the shoebox-sized room's only window. "Maybe I'm being a little picky. We're paying for the view anyway, aren't we?"