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“Why did you come back home? I’m sure you could have had a good job in the government somewhere.”

“I finished graduate school at the same time my father took seriously ill. I came home to take care of him and my mother and because I love my country and want to help my people.” They were both quiet for a short time. “Can you tell me more about this covert-intervention idea? Is it something that you could sell to your government?”

“I’m not sure. It would take a lot of investigation of the climate here, the whole situation, the criminal actions of the President and his Administration. Then you would have to prove that you have the support of the people, that they would be with you on an all-out assault on the capital.”

“That would be the easy part. I can videotape fifty witnesses for you within a week. I can document the atrocities, the massive thefts of money and matériel, and the killings by the Army of many innocent farmers.”

“Fifty witnesses to those crimes would be impressive. This all will take some time.”

“If you could send in five hundred Marines with their firepower and a dozen helicopter gunships, we could reduce General Assaba’s Army to a handful of wild-eyed hard cases in three or four days.”

Vice President Adams stood, walked the short length of the tent, and came back. A small boy slipped inside the tent with a wooden platter filled with several kinds of fruit, including a banana on top. Adams took the banana, peeled it down two inches, and had a bite.

“I’m afraid we couldn’t be covert with five or six hundred men charging around your country. I was thinking more about twenty specialists to train and lead, perhaps carry out some swift silent strikes on their own.”

Mojombo shook his head. “Mr. Vice President Adams. Frankly I don’t see what twenty men could do to help us. I need men with rifles and machine guns and hand grenades to engage the enemy.”

“You must have heard about the Army Rangers, the Marine Recon, and the Navy SEAL teams. These are Special Forces highly trained to do just this sort of work. I know of some of the work they have done around the world in the last five years, and it’s truly amazing.”

Mojombo took a small notebook from his Army-style cammy shirt pocket and began making notes. “Let’s say for the sake of our discussion that we could get a team of specialists in here from the United States. What kind of a time element are we talking about? I had a timetable that already is behind schedule. This week I was supposed to be able to raise three hundred men. Most of my volunteers come from the outlying areas. I need many more from the capital.”

“Time element. Yes, a problem. First I’d have to talk to them in Washington about the idea. Maybe we should fire up the SATCOM right now so I can talk with the President or his Chief of Staff. I know the frequency to get through on.”

* * *

The Gulfstream II set down at the Sierra City airport at 1515. Murdock stood in the aisle and looked over his platoon. Most were awake after the long hop.

“We’ll deplane in about five. Each man will take all of his own gear. The skycaps in this airport are hard to find. If we’re lucky someone will meet us. Otherwise we send out scouts to find the embassy.” There were a few grunts and hoo-has, and the men began gathering their gear.

A young Coast Guard flight chief came and stood by the door. When the brakes brought the plane to a stop, he opened the door and let down the stairs. Murdock moved off first. A yellow thirty-passenger school bus was parked fifty feet away across the tarmac. The driver came out and waved to them.

“Your limo’s here,” the American said.

A ten-minute ride in the bus, and it pulled into an enclosed compound of the U.S. embassy. The building was four stories, had bars on the windows on the ground floor and a ten-foot decorative steel fence around the outside of the property. A man wearing a slightly rumpled suit and white shirt and tie stood on the steps. Murdock walked up and met him as the troops lined up in squad order.

“Lieutenant Commander Murdock and the Third Platoon of SEAL Team Seven reporting as ordered, sir.”

“At ease, Commander. I’m Ambassador Nance Oberholtzer. Still can’t get used to that title. We’re not nearly that formal here. Usually it’s too damned hot. Hope you had a good ride. I have some faxes and radio signals for you to look at. I don’t know how the hell we got in this jam. I didn’t expect Mojombo would do anything while the Veep was here. I guess nobody calls the Vice President the Veep anymore. Who was it who popularized that term? Don’t remember. I’ll have to look it up.”

“As I remember, Mr. Ambassador, that would be Harry Truman’s Vice President, Alben Barkley. He was a real character.”

“Yes, I think you’re right. You must be a historian. Bring your boys in. I’ve got spots for them down on the second floor. Two to a room, but the beds are good. This will be your home for as long as you need it. Like I said, we’re not all that formal here.”

Two native men appeared and led the SEALs into the embassy and to the second floor, where they found the rooms and settled in.

One of the native men came up to Murdock. “Dining room on first floor end of long hall. We eat dinner at five-thirty. Okay?”

“Okay,” Murdock said. He found the ambassador in his office, which had been furnished recently and was still undergoing changes.

“Mr. Ambassador. I’d like a meeting as soon as possible with the top Army general here. Do you know his name?”

“Yes, that would be General Kiffa Assaba. A word of warning. He’s not a real general. He has the rank and post because he’s the hatchet man for the President. This is as near to an outlaw government as I’ve ever seen. But we have to live with it. I’ll phone him at once and see when you can get together.”

The general set it up for 6:30 that night at a downtown restaurant.

“That means he’ll want you to buy him dinner,” the ambassador said. “You know about money here? Probably not. Medium of exchange is mostly barter, but they also have paper currency called the dagnar. It’s fifty of the suckers to one U.S. greenback. I’ll give you a wad of five-hundred-dagnar notes. They are worth ten dollars each. Watch this sneaky little bastard. He’ll see how he can use you and your men to help his cause.”

“Be on my guard. Any more traffic on the SATCOM from the Vice President?”

“Yes, we did get a call he made to the White House. We have a recording of it on tape. Let me play it for you.” He took out a tape recorder, put in a small tape, and hit the play button.

“Yes, this is Vice President Adams calling the White House. I’d like to talk to the President or to Walters.”

“Mr. Walters will be right with you, Mr. Vice President.”

“Good. I’ve got lots to say. Where is he?”

“Right here, Mr. Vice President. How are you holding up?”

“Fine. About this situation. You must know what a rotten gang we’ve got here in this Sierra Bijimi government. Rotten right down from the fraudulently elected President to the political general of the Army and the police. Mojombo Washington is trying to get it fixed and he can use some help. What we need to do is send in a battalion of Marines and wipe out the current officials, but I know you would frown on that. How about some Special Forces to come in covertly and do some work down here?”

“Good thinking, Mr. Vice President. Fact is, we shipped out a platoon of SEALs almost twenty-four hours ago. They should be in country by now.”

“They are here on a covert basis?”

“As covert as hell.”

“That could be a start. I really think this young man has a magnificent project here. I’m going to try to help him in any way that I can. Oh, do we have any Navy in this area?”

“We checked that, Mr. Vice President. The closest asset is a task force off Portugal. Take them several days to sail down within striking distance of you. The unit has been ordered to move in that direction.”