“We just got here. I’ll let Stroh do his own reporting to his friends in Washington. As for me and the men and the Vice President, it’s sack time.”
Stroh had gone directly to his tent. He took out the SATCOM and adjusted the antenna, then made his call.
“Right, Chief,” he said. “We’re both free, out of there, and hale and hearty. Well, the Vice President has a bit of a limp, but outside of that…”
“Get him on a chopper and out to the carrier as soon as possible. We’ve been sweating branding irons back here. When can you get a chopper in?”
“One is supposed to come to replace the one that got shot up after it dropped us off. Maybe a couple of hours.”
“If it doesn’t come, you call the carrier and have them get another one in there. That’s the carrier captain’s primary mission, to rescue the Vice President. He better do it as quickly as possible.”
“Chief, I’d think a call from the CNO would be more productive. He can get the captain on line in minutes.”
“Yes, all right, I’ll tell the CNO to do that. Now that the important stuff is out of the way, how are you?”
“Just tired as hell after hiking for about thirty miles. I’m finding my cot and cutting you off and getting some sleep time.”
“Good night, Stroh.”
“Yeah, good night, Chief.”
Stroh went over to the Vice President’s tent, and saw the second-highest official in the U.S. government snoring away peacefully. Stroh woke him up.
“Mr. Adams, sorry to wake you, but I just wanted you to know that a helicopter will be coming in soon and you will be put on board for a flight back to the carrier. President’s orders, nothing I can do about it. Are you about ready to head back?”
“Oh, hell, yes. I’ve seen enough now to really twist some tails when I get back to Washington. That chopper can’t get here too soon to suit me. Thanks, Stroh, you’ve been a real help to me. I won’t forget it.”
“Good to be able to help, Mr. Vice President. Now I’m going to find my bunk.”
The Skyhawk sliding into the soccer field an hour later awoke Murdock and half the camp. He remembered the edict about getting the Veep out to the carrier. He hoped the Vice President didn’t give them a hard time.
Marshall Adams was the first man to the chopper after it landed. He shook hands with the pilot, told him who he was, and the pilot nearly fell down trying to find a good place for the Vice President to sit on the trip. At last he found some packing blankets and made a seat on the floor.
Murdock, Stroh, and Mojombo all stood in the doorway as the pilot radioed the carrier and told them he had his package and was about to take off.
“You’re not coming, Mr. Stroh?” Adams asked.
“Not yet. We have a couple more things to take care of here.”
“Good. Try not to get shot.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Stroh said. “I better have Mahanani take a look at this arm.” He held up his left forearm, which had a bloody bandage around it about halfway up.
“You’re shot,” Murdock said. “Why didn’t you tell somebody?”
“We had bigger worries about then,” Stroh said. “Besides, it builds up my macho image.”
Murdock grabbed him by his good arm and pulled him away from the chopper as the pilot wound up the engine. “Come on, you desk jockey, you’ve yet to experience the wonders of field first aid.”
By noon that day Mojombo had set up a screen of sentries, guard posts, and clusters of twenty-man emergency forces on all the major trails down five miles below the village. That still left ten miles on down to the ten-mile boat dock as no-man’s-land.
“We’re controlling everything north of that line,” Mojombo said when Murdock wandered up to his tent about 1300. “If federals want to come north of that, they have to fight their way in.”
“How’s your campaign to enlist the other villages going?” Murdock asked.
“My top lieutenant made calls on three villages yesterday and we have their support. There are about twenty villages up here beyond the city. We want them all. Then we can move downstream.”
An hour later they heard a burst of rifle fire to the south. “About a mile away, maybe less,” Murdock said. Mojombo sent a runner to see what the firefight was about. He came back quickly with a man with his hands tied in front of him. He wore the cammies and the billed cap of a federal soldier.
They hurried the prisoner to the commander’s tent, and he stood ramrod straight, and would have saluted except for the tied wrists.
“Sir, I am Second Lieutenant Rozolo with a message for you from Colonel Ronald Amosa.”
Mojombo frowned. “Is that the same Amosa who is commander of a regiment?”
“Yes, sir. The message is not written down. I memorized it on the colonel’s orders.”
Before he could go on, there was a disturbance at the side of the soccer field and a man hurried away from a half-dozen soldiers who were heckling him. He looked around, then came directly to Mojombo’s tent.
He braced at attention and saluted. “Sir, I am Captain Markala, of the Second Regiment of federal troops commanded by Colonel Amosa. I’m glad that Lieutenant Rozolo got through. The colonel sent two of us so one for sure would survive. The colonel has a proposition for you. Can we speak privately?”
Murdock and Stroh excused themselves and walked away toward the soccer field. A dozen kids were hard at a game.
“The enemy has a proposition?” Stroh asked.
“It wasn’t from some general, from a colonel who commands a regiment.” Murdock nodded. “That could be good news.”
“Like a defection?” Stroh asked. “How many men in a regiment?”
“Depends on the army. Usually from one to four thousand.”
“Well, now, that would change the odds all over the map,” Stroh said.
“Right now it’s speculation.”
“Oh, sure. The colonel sends out a captain in civilian clothes to move north, and he sends a lieutenant to infiltrate, both trying to get to Mojombo. Both with a proposition. That’s a deal, that’s a defection of a thousand men to Mojombo’s side of the war.”
“Let’s hope so,” Murdock said. “This tropical paradise, with all the snakes and bugs and flies, is starting to get me down.”
The three men conferred in Mojombo’s closed tent for an hour. Then the captain went to a tent at the edge of the camp, and came back dressed in cammies with captain’s bars on his shoulders and a billed cap.
A runner found Murdock and Stroh in their tents and told them they were wanted at the leader’s tent.
Mojombo grinned when they came in. He introduced them to the captain and lieutenant, then had them sit down.
“Captain Markala brings us good news. Colonel Amosa is ready to defect to our side and bring his one thousand soldiers with him. All he asks is that he can retain his rank, lead his troops, and have the chance to head the new Army of Sierra Bijimi after our revolution is won. All of these conditions are acceptable to me. The captain and the lieutenant will be moving back south as soon as we feed them and form up a security patrol to go with them as far as the ten-mile bridge.”
“How soon will the defection take place?” Stroh asked.