The Devil's Handshake (37 page)

“
Mr. Igor, my people have
found a farm that is located just outside Borama in a village
called Aw-Barre. It appears to have over two hundred men on it
undergoing drills and training,” Badr said.

“
How do you know this?”
injected Mikhail.

“
We followed a white man who
had a meeting with this Martin and Wilson at Rays Hotel in the
Shacabka district,” answered the veteran.

“
Thank you,” replied Igor,
trying not to show his concern while his mind worked over the
intelligence. With only the ten of them plus Litchfield’s men on
site at the moment and with a possible coup d’état just days away
he had to make a call whether to request additional backup. What
happened over next few hours would determine whether he made that
call or not.

A burner phone ringing on the table
interrupted them.

“
That was Barak,” reported
Benny after he had finished listening to the pre-agreed
coded-message.

“
It appears that the Indian
has arrived at the airport,” he said

“
Really?” offered Igor
somewhat surprised. In his experience Principals never arrived on
the scene when a putsch was about to take place.

“
What’s he doing here?”
asked Mikhail having thought the same thing as Igor.

“
Good Question!” Igor
replied assuming at that moment the putsch wasn’t now so
imminent.

“
Let me know what your boys
in Addis come up with in respect to the trucks,” offered Mikhail
towards Igor being older and more experienced. He was thinking
something must be up.

Two hours later, while Thomas and Jawari were
still having their meeting with the two tribal elders and their
advisers, Igor received his answer.

Picking up his ringing codex phone, he
quickly answered it. He listened carefully what Sergei had to say.
The grim look on his face told the waiting Mikhail the whole
story.

“
It appears that our friends
have been busy picking up Armored type 63 personnel carriers at the
airport this morning, and as we speak are on their way back to the
border,” Igor said completely disregarding his own private
assumption with respect to the putsch not being imminent of
earlier.

“
As it will take them about
nine hours to return to Borama so add that to load time plus
customs perhaps a stop or two, say two hours. That means we have
until 20:00 hours before they arrive then maybe an hour or so after
that for them unload them,” Benny said out loud making calculations
on timing as he went along.

“
As soon as they get here
they will almost certainly start their operation,” injected
Mikhail.

“
We will be getting some
additional support from Damascus in the form of two teams,” Igor
offered to have been told by Sergei that he had ordered them to be
deployed to him.

“
How many?” asked Mikhail,
having already mentally calculated that they will arrive
approximately at the same time as the trucks.

“
Twenty,” answered
Igor.

“
It will still take them
about six hours best case, say seven hours to get here,” offered
Igor’s deputy Aytrom before adding that they had only two
PMILE–general purpose machines guns with 12.7mm rounds within their
kit having also checked the strength of the armor on the carriers
on the Getac laptop.

“
Better make sure they put
extra PMILEs in their kits, please,” Igor asked Aytrom who nodded
his head in response then began typing out the request on encrypted
emails to the quartermasters of units C and D.

“
This is going to be tight.
Anything else your boys can get to us?” asked Mikhail using the old
Israeli logic of military operations never run on time.

“
Yes, but we must get
Jawari’s permission before we can receive the authorization from
Command for them to deploy,” he said before explaining further that
they could have two hundred men from the 3rd Guards Spetsnaz
Brigade GRU in the theatre within twelve hours.

“
We better go and tell the
boss then,” said Mikhail getting up never actually believing he
would be so happy see the sight of two hundred Russians Spetsnaz
commandos arriving in his lifetime.

Taking lunch with Rooble Ali the leader of
the Lughaya Clan and Rashid Dualeh Jawari the President’s uncle and
leader of his own Clan from Saylac Thomas was in a pensive
mood.

The reason as to why they were having lunch
was because both were representatives the Upper House and of the
Issa, the main Clans that held responsibility for the safety of
Adwalland. A right given to them because of their shared Arabian
roots that dated back to Aqeel ibn Abi Talib the second son of Abu
Talib, the uncle and protector of Muhammad.

In their late seventies, the men were not
only the oldest Clan heads, but also tough no nonsense men having
fought, initially, in the brutal civil war against Said Barre the
former leader of the dictatorial regime of Ethiopia.

Both had suffered terrible losses of children
of both sexes as the aggressor’s troops and militia shelled bombed
and strafed all towns and villages in Awdalland before they finally
set aside their traditional differences and joined together to
fight the SNM’s in the early 1990s.

Both were also determined to see their
country and their grandchildren no longer fall back under the boot
of oppression.

Although initially distrustful and suspicious
of the President’s foreign friend they had finally bonded with
Thomas on his trip five years ago when he had informed them that
his own daughter was Muslim, and sworn on his child’s life that he
would support their country’s birth as a nation.

With Thomas having fulfilled all his promises
to them despite their minor sub-clans having their head turned by
Wasir’s Indian friend, they had steadfastly stood by the President
despite their initial reservations over the Russian naval base
forming part of the deal.

Then, over many shishas together, they
finally concluded that the base would offer great economic
opportunities and more importantly security if the Somali or other
neighboring states decided to cast lustful eyes towards the bounty
of natural resources that lay off their coast. The decision was
made easier by seeing how well their respective Clan members from
Djibouti were prospering from the Americans foreign presence
primarily through Camp Lemmonier. This wasn’t known however to the
President or their friend.

Earlier with their greetings out of the way,
symbolized by the kissing of each cheek and then, a third time with
a hug the three men had sat.

“
Sheikh, we are very
grateful for all your support!” Rashid said expressively in Arabic,
using the word Sheikh in a respectful manner as a thank you for the
ten million U.S. dollars in cash Thomas had brought and handed over
to them both without comment or conditions.

“
You are most welcome my
friends,” replied Thomas in Arabic taking the hand of Rooble Ali
first then Rashid as he was slightly younger with both hands to
show respect each time.

“
We look forward to our
friend President Putin’s Ambassador’s arrival in Borama next week,”
offered Rashid as conversation filler while the hotel staff entered
with dates, pastries, and chilled fruit juices.

Once the Cismah’s staff departed, Rooble Ali
continued where he left off as he picked up a date with his right
hand.

“
Sheikh Omar tells us that
you are concerned about Wasir and his friend.”

“
That is correct, great
Sheikh,” replied Thomas ensuring he showed his concern in his face
using the title granted to men who were direct descendants of
Muhammad. Something both these men were.

Rashid offered that there was no need, for
all elders were fully behind the strategy of having Russia as a
tenant in Lughaya having seen how many of their extended family and
friends had prospered in Djibouti. Suddenly, Thomas felt a lot
better. With a beaming smile, Thomas replied in kind that he was
pleased while actually thinking privately he had just had his
“pocket picked” by the cunning elders over the way they merely
dismissed the deal offered by the Indian.

With this important agreement out of the way,
the President as they had agreed beforehand, took over the next
part of the mini conference.

Yesterday, when the pair of them had
discussed the need to remove Wasir from the scene, the President
explained this could prove extremely difficult because he provided
a valuable source of income to many sub-Clans nevertheless he had
changed mind in an instant when Thomas advised about the impounding
of the helicopter gunship, the sending of his trailer trucks to
Addis, and when his Head of Security advised him of the discovery
of the two hundred foreign fighters this morning.

When Omar had been informed of Wasir’s
treachery he had nearly gone into meltdown. Nevertheless he knew he
needed to make sure they had the Clan leaders’ ongoing support;
something that allowed him to manage to contain his anger.

That being granted, he took the gloves
off.

As Omar set about explaining with lots of
hand movements to his tribal elders in excitable Somali what Wasir
was up, to Thomas could tell by the look on their grim faces they
were completely shocked.

“
We are very grateful for
our Russian friend’s help,” said Rashid, emotionally supported by
Rooble Ali having been told by the President that the Russians had
arranged for the hated gunship to be impounded in Guinea Bissau.
Both men had a rabid fear of them having seen the terrible effects
the ones from Ethiopia had inflicted on their Clans during the
war.

Interrupted by Mikhail, he could tell by the
look on his trusted friend’s face that the news wasn’t good
something that was confirmed to him when Mikhail leaned down into
his ear and told of him of the news from Addis.

“
What is it my friend?”
asked the President concerned as he picked up on the same look.
Just to have his own look match Mikhail’s and his when Thomas
informed the three of them the news.

“
What do you suggest
Sheikh?” asked Rooble Ali in Arabic, still in shock over Wasir’s
actions. In the twilight of his life, he had no wish to see his
country fall back into the bloodshed of the past.

“
Why don’t I ask our Russian
friend to join us, he has a proposal,” replied Thomas, grimly
knowing that they had a fight on their hands.

During the ten minute trip to the hotel,
Navjot received an update from both Tony and Andrew with regard the
loss of the gunship and as he listened to them offer up their
excuses he knew it was an attempt by them both to downplay its
significance because they had tried to convince him they had
suitable backup plans in place to work around its loss. He didn’t
bother to tell them that the Russians were behind it because he
knew they would get cold feet.

So instead he set about briefing them on what
the future plans were on the various companies he had lined up to
enter into partnership once the regime change was completed. As he
did so, could see the former Guards officer was impressed and
already counting his money.

Now checked into his suite, Navjot started to
sweep the room for listening and observation devices. Seeing there
were none he opened his case pulled out the Codex phone and dialed
a number. A lady answered.

“
Coast is clear I am in my
room,” he said.

Less than a minute later on the second knock
he opened the door so allow Clara Martinez to walk in. As she did
so, both of them ignored the little housekeeper of about fourteen
going about her business on the same floor.

On the ground for the past two weeks watching
the coming and goings of various designated parties with four other
members the Special Operations Group, Clara and the rest of the
team had entered through Ethiopia posing as NGOs attached to one of
the CIA fronts, a water aid charity called Water & Life Aid.
They had rented some offices in the center of the city where they
had set up their communications and monitoring equipment.

A strong willed, attractive woman of Mexican
descent in her mid-thirties, Clara was best described as having a
slender, girlish figure with an oval face, large and lustrous eyes,
and a head crowned by a mass of coal black wavy hair. She had
served with Navjot for the last ten years since graduating in
Politics and Economics from Berkeley and given her ability to
multi-task, she held responsibility for logistics and planning of
the group’s operations.

It was her unique ability at being “better at
playing a part” and “superior to colleagues” when it came to
“suppressing her ego in order to attain the goal,” as her trainers
at the Farm had placed on her file alongside her skill in speaking
Spanish and Arabic, that she found herself recruited into SAD.

An Intelligence Star locked up in the vault
in Langley for her role in assisting in the take down of Anwar
al-Awlaki in the Yemen, the unmarried “mother” as the team referred
to her for the way she worried, Clara was always the first name
Navjot added to his team list when setting up an operation.

“
Boss! Do you think you
should really be here!” she said not bothering with any formalities
like greetings after he closed the door.

“
Nice to see you too,
Clara!” Navjot said making light of her statement.

“
We are a fucking day away,
and now the Principal is in the theatre! What the fuck does that
look like!” she continued, ignoring his attempt at a joke not to
mention angry with him for taking such risks.