“Within two days the colonel will head a task force that will bring his regiment to the ten-mile dock, supposedly to establish a line there and sweep north eliminating all of our Loyalist opposition,” he said. “He’ll bring his own transportation, his supplies, field kitchens, a medic aid station, and quantities of arms and food to last his troops for two weeks.
“Only instead of sweeping north, he will establish an iron line across the area and begin to move south, dislodging any federal troops he finds and winning over the civilians to our Loyalist cause.”
“Congratulations,” Stroh said. “Are there any more units like his that might defect?”
“He thinks there is one. If he can bring that regiment with him, that would cut the federal troops in half.”
“What can we do to help?” Murdock asked. “We’re here. We might as well be earning our keep.”
Stroh lifted his brows at that, but said nothing.
“The colonel suggested two strikes that we might consider just after his defection is made known. One would be to shut down the electrical power to the city. We get all of our electrical power from an international grid. The power is hydroelectric generated by our neighbor. The colonel suggested if we simply unplugged the relay station where the entire power for the nation comes in, it would have a staggering effect. All business would shut down, the government would come to a standstill. Most of the military would be affected.
“If we could keep the power off for twenty-four to forty-eight hours, it would have a telling effect on the civilian population. The colonel figured that we could hold the relay station until the federals launch a good-sized attack against us there. We cut and run and let the federals turn on the lights. By then the damage would have been done to the federal cause.
“The second job would be to lead our unit on a strike at the municipal water plant. We have a filtration plant and a pumping a station that supplies high-quality drinking water to our city. If we shut that down for twenty-four hours, we could cause a big uproar and then turn on the spigots again.”
“Be glad to send our men with yours on both jobs,” Murdock said.
“Good. You, Captain Markala, Lieutenant Rozolo, and I will ride motorcycles down the trail to the ten-mile bridge. We meet Colonel Amosa there at dusk to work out any final arrangements.”
Murdock looked at the federal soldier. “Captain, is this a trap to wipe out me and Mojombo? You realize without him the revolution would sputter and stop.”
The captain nodded. “I understand your concern. This is not a trap. If it were, I’d be dead as well, since the soldiers would attack the four of us. It’s no trap. We can ride down within a mile of the bridge, and then leave the bikes and hike through the jungle to the site, if you would be more comfortable with that.”
“Sounds like a good plan. The careful soldier is an old soldier,” Murdock said.
“I agree with you,” the captain said.
Mojombo smiled. “Good. I don’t think it’s a trap, but the caution is prudent. I served under the colonel when I was in the Army. He’s the most honest officer I’ve ever met. He’s straight and dedicated and will live up to his word.” He looked at Stroh. “Does the U.S. Government have any objections to this defection?”
“Not at the moment,” said Stroh. “But, if it turns out to be a trap, and you two men are killed, I can promise the federal troops that they will be hit time and time and time again with missiles from the air launched by our F-18 aircraft. When the eighteens are done, there won’t be enough left of the federal Army to guard a goat herd.”
“I’ll be ready an hour before dark,” Murdock said.
On their way back to their tents, Stroh kept scowling. “It could so easily be a trap,” he said.
“You indicated that. If it is, I’ll smell it out and get Mojombo out of there fast. For now, we just have to wait and see.”
26
Murdock watched the other two men test-ride the motorcycles, then put Captain Markala first in line and Mojombo next. Murdock brought up the rear with the lieutenant on back. The most inexperienced rider went first. They left at 1700, which gave them two hours to make the destination before dusk. Murdock wanted to recon the area after they got there early.
They hid the cycles a mile from the ten-mile dock and hiked through the jungle. Mojombo led the way now. Murdock had seen nothing to suggest a trap. When they were two hundred yards from the dock, they stopped, and Murdock went on ahead silently, deep in cover, to check out the area. There was no one on or near the dock. He moved closer and checked the wooded growth beyond the dock. The closer he looked, the more evidence he found of men in waiting.
Why were they there? Were they simply early and had decided to wait out of sight until the appointed time? Maybe. Murdock chewed it over again and again. They could have a dozen non-lethal reasons for staying out of sight. He was staying out of sight as well. Murdock went back to the other two men and told them what he had found.
“Typical,” Captain Markala said. “The colonel is a good soldier and a cautious one. It’s my opinion that he would hide himself if he arrived early. Why don’t we wait until just before dusk. Then I’ll walk out of the jungle and onto the dock. If all is well, the colonel and his men will come out. Then I’ll wave at you that it’s clear and you and Mojombo can come to the dock.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Murdock said. “Only let’s change the plan a little. You go and contact the federals. If it’s a real meet, you bring the colonel and one of his men with him and come into the jungle to this spot, where we’ll have our talk. We’re not going to walk out there with twenty or thirty guns on us from the brush. How do you react to that idea?”
Captain Markala grinned. “Just about what I would have suggested if I had been in your place. Yes. Good idea. We have nothing to hide. No plans to kill you. I’ll do as you suggest.”
A half hour later, just before dusk, the three men moved silently through the jungle. Murdock and Mojombo stopped ten yards from the edge of the clearing. Captain Markala waved at them. “We’ll be back soon.” He walked out of the jungle and went quickly to the dock. He stood there for a minute or two watching the water. Then two men came from the other side of the dock and met him. They talked. A moment later all three turned and walked toward where Mojombo and Murdock waited.
“Keep your hands away from your weapons and come inside here slowly,” Murdock said loud enough so the three men could hear him. They did as he directed. Just inside the line of trees and brush the men stopped.
It felt right to Murdock. The colonel was armed only with a heavy pistol on his belt. He wore a cammy uniform with silver eagles on his collar. He was a half a head taller than either of the other Africans.
“Colonel Amosa, excuse the precautions, but I felt they were needed. I’m Lieutenant Commander Blake Murdock of the United States Navy SEALs.”
“Commander, I have heard of your group. You are extraordinary fighting men. I admire that. We come in peace. Our intentions are exactly as my captain has outlined to you. We will be moving into this area in twenty-four hours, but not to do what the general has ordered us to do. We will come self-contained to be on duty for two weeks. We’ll establish a solid defensive line across this northern area and start moving toward Sierra City. No federal troops will be allowed past us, and if they don’t surrender and join us, they will be wiped out.”
“How many men do you bring, Colonel?”
“Our regiments are small, only about a thousand men instead of four thousand. We are battalion-size by American standards. But we are tested fighting men. I have trained them. We have food, ammunition, supplies, and transport to handle our operation.”