Deadly Force

9

Back at the embassy, Murdock, Gardner, Senior Chief Sadler, and Jaybird traded faxes as they again read everything they had about the country and the situation.

“Looks like we just stepped into a large pail of shit,” Jaybird said. “No way we need to help these crooks steal more money.”

“We’re here to get the Vice President out of trouble,” Lieutenant (j.g.) Gardner said. “If we have to help them a little to get the job done, then we do it.”

“From what the Vice President himself said, he doesn’t consider himself a captive,” Murdock said. “He says he wants to help this rebel all he can. I wonder what he means by that.”

They were in Murdock and Gardner’s room, and they heard a commotion in the hall. Then a familiar voice came through the noise.

“Damnit, Murdock, come out of your hole. I’ve had enough trouble today without playing fucking hide-and-seek.”

Murdock stepped into the hall grinning. “Well, if it isn’t the wonder boy of the CIA, the next candidate for deputy director, your friend and mine, Mortimer J. Stroh.”

“That’s Snerd, Mortimer J. Snerd, and Edgar Bergen would sue you if he was still around. Murdock, you horse’s heinie, how the hell is it hanging?”

“Long and lean. Glad you finally made it. You have lots of direction for us in this snake pit of a country?” Murdock saw the exhaustion showing in the CIA man’s face. At forty-eight, he wasn’t slowing down any. His brown hair was thinning a little, but his blue eyes still had a snap to them. His round face made his ears look too big for his face. Don Stroh was definitely not the fade-into-the-background type.

“Not a lot of direction for you. Our job is to rescue the Vice President without throwing a few million dollars to each side.”

“Big-budget job, I’d say,” Jaybird cracked.

Stroh grinned. “They still putting up with you around here?”

“Till death do us part.”

“Might be sooner than you figure, Jaybird,” Sadler growled.

“So what the hell we gonna do about the Vice President?” Stroh asked.

Murdock chuckled. “Great. No directives, we get to figure it out ourselves. The way it usually goes. We’ve found out this country is about ready to go down, from ignorance and bad government if nothing else. A bunch of official crooks and killers run the place.”

“That’s the way I hear it, too,” Stroh said. “How do we get the second highest man in our government out of the jungle?”

“I’m talking to a colonel tomorrow and I should have some ideas after that. Off the top, it looks like a river cruise would be in order. A recon, done at night so we don’t draw a lot of rebel fire. The river is theirs.”

“What can we find out at night?” Gardner asked.

“Plenty,” Jaybird said. “First we slip up on a village and grab a couple of men and ask them some questions. We can find out if the peasants out there in the boonies really like this guy the way some people say. If so, maybe he’s not as bad as the government thinks. You hear Adams’s last talk with the White House?”

Stroh hadn’t. They let him read the transcript. He finished it and looked up. “Sounds like he’s signed on as a rebel.”

“Which means we can’t go shooting up the rebel camps,” Murdock said. “We have to contact them, but it has to be a soft contact, with no gunfire.”

“We’ve already got contact,” Gardner said. “He has a SATCOM, we have a SATCOM. Why don’t we just talk to him?”

“Because we don’t know when he might turn his set on,” Murdock said. “Most embassies don’t have SATCOMs. They have more sophisticated radio equipment. So we can’t just ring him up like he had a phone. We can try, but don’t expect much.”

Ten minutes later Bill Bradford had the SATCOM antenna lined up with the satellite and Murdock made a call.

“Sierra City calling Vice President Adams. Do you read me? Sierra City calling Vice President Adams.”

There was no response. The ambassador had been told of Stroh’s arrival, and came onto the balcony where they had set up the dish antenna.

“We tried six times to call him, but evidently he had turned off the receiver,” the ambassador said. “He’d probably worried about the life of his battery.”

“We may have to send a man up there to contact them and get the radio signals worked out,” Murdock said. He turned to the CIA man. “Now, Stroh, give us the rest of the dope on this strange little country and what the CIA and State has to say about it.”

“State hardly knows it exists. The African desk has a thin file on this place, but nobody there has been here or knows much about it that isn’t in the file. Basically stolen elections, bad people probably robbing the treasury and the country blind. Foreign intervention is their answer to every criticism. It’s a small cancer on the world order. Nobody knows much about it or cares.”

“Except our Vice President by the sound of him,” Gardner said.

Sadler rubbed his chin. “Looks like our first job is to get upstream and make contact with this rebel. It might be a simple matter of promising him some covert guns and ammo for his little rebellion here. He’d probably shout hosanna for two hundred M-16’s and five thousand rounds of ammo.”

“Could be that simple, but Mojombo Washington could get that for any American he captured,” Stroh said. “The Agency feels that he has much bigger demands that will be coming. That should be the second thing we do, wait to see what those demands are.”

Stroh stood. “I’m so damn tired I can’t even see straight, let alone think in a straight line. Let’s pick this up tomorrow right after breakfast. I hear the food here is great. I’m hitting the old feather bed.”

“Dream on those feathers,” Jaybird said.

“Hopefully.”

“We’re in no shape to do anything tonight,” Murdock said. “Let’s get some sleep and grab it by the balls first thing in the morning. Then maybe we can work up a mission for tomorrow night. No sense in going up that river and getting our skulls blown apart by friendly fire.”

Breakfast was served from 0600 to 0900, and all the SEALs ate until they exploded. Six of them gathered around a conference table on the first floor and welcomed the ambassador. The general tone of the meeting was that they should get upriver and try to make contact. At the least they could talk to the villagers they found.

“Have to be a night mission,” Murdock said. “I talk to Colonel Dara at 1000. He might help us without knowing it. We’ll need a boat that can swim upstream. Dara might be our supply.”

“We kept the SATCOM on all night, but the Vice President didn’t transmit on the White House frequency,” the ambassador said. “We’re hoping he’ll call this morning. If he does, we’ll break in and let him know we can talk with him here and maybe help him.”

Murdock checked his watch and headed for the Government Building, where the general said his G-2 would be. A young girl at a reception desk on the second floor took him to Colonel Dara’s office. The man who held out his hand to Murdock looked like a soldier. He was five-ten, slender, with a firm grip and what looked to be a hard body toned by many workouts. His face was longish and he had a close-cropped haircut. He took off reading glasses as they met.

“Yes, the American SEAL. I know a lot about you people and your exploits. I’d like to get some Special Forces established here, but I’m having enough trouble holding together what Army we have left. It’s my responsibility, General Assaba keeps telling me.”

“Good to meet you, Colonel. We are an action-oriented force. Right now it looks like a trip up the Amunbo River would be the best move.”

“We tried that. Got shot to pieces.”

“I heard about that. I’d want to go up at night as quietly as possible. Then we could stop along the way at the villages and settlements and talk to them about the rebels. Someone might tell us where his stronghold is.”

“We’re pretty sure we know where it is. The trouble is, it’s so far upstream and so well defended that we don’t seem to be able to attack him with any success.”

“I understand he’s made some guerrilla raids lately.”

“Yes, caught us by surprise both times. Night attacks. We haven’t been on a wartime footing. Maybe it’s time we go to that.”

“Does he have any popular support?”

“Not much that we know of. Almost none here in the city. He’s looked on as an educated outlaw by most people.”

“Is he a real threat to your government here?”

“Not really. But we are concerned with the worldwide publicity that he’s getting by kidnapping your Vice President. This is unforgivable. Because of that alone, we are obligated to put on a drive to eliminate him and, we hope, release the Vice President.”

“Do you have any definite plans?”

“We hope your government will lend us five thousand Marines and helicopters so we can move in with them and wipe out the rebels, killing every man they have.”

Murdock grinned. “We both know that isn’t going to happen. Are there any roads up along the river?”

“The only jeep road goes up about ten miles. From there it’s a horse trail that some two-wheeled carts can get by on to bring produce and crops into the city. There’s quite a bit of boat traffic on the river. It’s the best highway into the interior.”

“Colonel, I need to do some recon. Could you supply me with a boat and crew to take a trip up the river tonight after dark? It would be a no-firefight-type situation. We’d go slow and easy and talk to as many of the local people we find as possible. This Mojombo might have set up a camp much closer to the city now that he feels he’s getting stronger and has the Vice President as a hostage.”

Colonel Dara frowned, then stood and paced his office for a minute. At last he sat down again and nodded. He made a phone call using the Wolof language. When the call ended he smiled.

“Yes, Commander Murdock. We’ll have a boat and crew at your disposal at Dock Six, this afternoon at 1800. How many men will you take with you?”

“Alpha Squad will make the probe. Eight of us altogether. I’ll try to bring your boat and crew back without taking a single enemy round.”

“I’d appreciate it. Is there anything else? Weapons, ammunition?”

“We tend to travel with all our supplies so we can land and operate quickly. But thanks for the offer. I’ll be back to make a full report on what I find upstream.”

That afternoon Murdock sent his men and ten workers from the embassy into the city to interview the public and to take a poll about their feelings toward the government and Mojombo Washington.

They all came back early. When they tallied up their results they discovered that ninety percent had heard about the capture of the United States Vice President. Eighty percent had a favorable image of Mojombo Washington, calling him a patriot who was trying to help the common man. Only ten percent thought of him as a criminal and a kidnapper. The ambassador was surprised, and pleased.

Alpha Squad had an early supper at the embassy cafeteria, and then checked their equipment and weapons for the mission.

“Remember, we want this to be a silent operation,” Murdock told them as they rode in the old school bus toward the river and Dock Six. The dock was made of wood and only forty feet long. The thirty-foot patrol boat was probably the largest craft ever to tie up there. The boat was adequate. It had a .50-caliber machine gun mounted on a pedestal on the short bow ahead of the cabin. Murdock could see where bullet holes had been patched in the sides of the boat and the cabin. He stashed his men on board and then went to the small cabin to talk to the captain, a full commander in the Sierra Bijimi Navy.

Murdock saluted him and the man returned the salute.

“Commander, I’m Lieutenant Commander Murdock reporting with my seven men for this recon.”

“Welcome on board, Commander. I’m Martin London. Some of our people took British names when the British ruled our country. I hope this will be a quieter trip than my last one.” London was about five-six and square-cut like an oak beam. He looked all military, and had deep-set eyes that almost were lost in his intensely black face. Murdock knew that this man was exactly what you saw. He would have no pretenses and would say precisely what he thought.

“You were shot up pretty good as I’ve heard,” said Murdock. “We have no plans to draw any fire. In fact, we’ll go without running lights. No lights showing of any kind except red interior ones if you use them. I need some personal input on the river, the land, and the people.”

“I understand perfectly. I’ve seen films of your team’s work. You are excellent at what you do. I commend you. I just hope that our forces will never have to come up against your men.”

“I don’t see how that would ever happen.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t, Commander. Strange things are going on in my country these days. Are you ready to shove off?”

“Ready, Commander.”

They left the dock at 1815. Murdock had been assured that it would be totally dark at 1900 this time of year. The craft would make seven knots upstream, so they wouldn’t be in the danger zone before darkness fell.

Murdock settled back along the rail and watched the river. It was slow-moving, and trees, plants, and vines grew almost to the water’s edge. He wasn’t sure how close they were to the equator, but it couldn’t be far away. His cammies had been sticking to his back all day, and he looked forward to a slightly cooler time once the sun set.

There had to be fish in the water, but he didn’t see any signs. Plenty of bugs swarmed around the water, but no fish was interested. Along the edge of the water he saw several people. One was carrying a load of firewood on his back. He could be walking into the city to sell it. Murdock spotted smoke from what could be cooking fires. The smoke lifted out of the trees and went straight into the air.

Once he saw three children splashing in the water. It was almost dark when he spotted an opening in the trees. A small stream came in from the side, and along each side were open spaces that had been planted with some type of row crops — vegetables, he guessed. Then the night closed in and he could see little.

The pilot of the craft moved out into the middle of the forty-yard-wide river. The speed of the water increased as the shores came closer together.

Murdock wasn’t sure what he would find up here. There were few boats along the river. He could hire a fishing boat if he had to, but this worked better right now. It tied in the local military so they wouldn’t get uptight about a foreign contingent barging into their territory. If it wasn’t for the Vice President, the locals would never have agreed to the SEALs’ visit. Now he had to make the best of it and get something accomplished. Like snatching the Vice President back from the rebels whether he wanted to come or not. That could be a problem later, but for now he was content to do his recon and see where they went from there.

The coxswain cut the forward speed as the night deepened. He had only a silver moon shining off the water to go by. Then a large fire blossomed on the left-hand shore. Murdock wondered what it was for.

“Spooky,” Jaybird said from just behind Murdock. “Why are they having a bonfire?”

“Let’s go over and see,” Murdock said. Commander London appeared at Murdock’s side.

“Must be a celebration of some kind. Our people go overboard with ceremonies and festivals. You want to come in over there? As I remember, there is a small dock there we could tie up to.”

“Let’s do it, Commander. SEALs front and center. Going to take a walk. Bring your weapons, but keep the muzzles pointing down. Everyone up to speed?” He heard soft replies. He made a net check on the radio, and everyone sounded off in sequence.

The boat nudged a used tire bumper tied to the dock, and quick hands tied up the boat.

“I’ll go with you,” Colonel London said. “Might be able to smooth the way some for you.”

The fire now showed fifty yards away through some trees. They took a well-used path, and slowed when they came closer.

“Yes, it’s a wedding,” London said. “People out here go all out on weddings. Sometimes the party lasts a week.”

“Why don’t we stay in the shadows here,” Murdock said. “Could you bring over two or three of the guests we could talk to?”

“What we came to do, I guess,” the boat captain said. He walked away, and a short time later brought three men back with him. One was so drunk he could hardly walk. But he could talk.

“Have you heard of Mojombo Washington?” Murdock asked him.

He looked at the boat captain and grinned. “Oh, sure. Yes. Big man in the jungle. Wants to throw out the government. Hear him every time he goes past in his boat.”

“Do you agree with him?” Murdock asked.

“Will this sailor shoot me?”

“No one will hurt you.”

“Well, most of us like Mojombo. He’s trying to help us. We bring him food to help feed his soldiers.”

“Most of the village people feel this way?” Murdock asked.

“Most, except the spies for the Army. We hate the spies.”

They talked to the other two men, and both said about the same thing.

“Let’s get back to the ship,” Murdock said. He looked at the Sierra Bijimi officer as they walked. “How far are we from Sierra City?”

“Eleven or twelve miles.”

“Let’s try the next village,” Murdock said.

In the boat Murdock talked with the captain again. “You think that General Assaba knows how loyal these villagers are to Mojombo?”

“He doesn’t want to know. He wants to hang on as long as he can. I have no respect for him. He isn’t even a real general. He’s never fired a gun except to kill someone in cold blood.”

“You’ve seen him kill a person?”

“I was his Naval advisor until he realized he didn’t need one. Yes, I saw him murder three men he suspected of plotting against him. All were good Army officers.”

“Would you testify to that on a videotape for me?”

“No. Never. It would be my death warrant. I’ll never go against the government. Not until someone shows me that he has the guts and skill and the manpower to win. Mojombo doesn’t have it yet. He could. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

The next village was only fifteen minutes up the river. They came to a rickety dock, and Murdock, London, and the men got wet getting to shore. Commander London found two men they talked to. Both said about what the men at the first village did.

One looked closely at the boat captain. “Are we going to get in trouble with the Army?”

“No,” Murdock said. “This man is our guide. No one will harm you for saying what you think.”

On the walk back to the boat, Murdock turned to the commander. “I trust that none of this talk will be repeated to anyone in the military.”

“I have no report to make out on this trip. I will tell no one. My only hope is that your and your men might hasten the day when we can have a truly democratic government and a strong military.”

As the boat neared the dock in Sierra City after the fast downstream run, Commander London took Murdock aside. “I’ll do one thing for you, Navy SEAL. I’ll report to Colonel Dara that the population we talked to were generally cool toward Mojombo, and still back the government.”

“Thanks, Commander. That could be a great help.”