After thirty minutes they saw stationary red tail lights ahead of them. After several minutes more Jie got the impression there was more than a single vehicle, the sound of idling engines confirmed that, but they were still well short of the ESA controlled area, now visible far ahead, its access point lit up.
Jie knew, in detail, the procedures that were in place here and a holding area was not included, that is to say one hadn’t been included six weeks before.
This was where fresh intelligence would have assisted.
A hundred yards on and he saw the lead vehicle in the queue move off slowly, continuing for the facility but the remainder sat there a quarter mile from the entrance and Jie left his squad in the undergrowth to recce ahead cautiously.
Half way along the column of trucks, vans and cars he was able to see that they were being held by two soldiers who were clearly not legionaries’ as one carried the shoulder flash of the 110th Infantry and the other wore the maroon beret of the airborne forces.
The driver of the baker’s truck at the end of the queue was listening to a music CD and jumped as legionaries appeared at each window, faces blacked with camouflage cream.
“Autorisant passé!”
The night and the rain hid them from the legitimate articles at the head of the queue but they had to work quickly before a further vehicle arrived to silhouette them for possible discovery.
The driver handed over the pass and then left the vehicle to open the truck for inspection and the troopers kept him busy with queries about his load and his movements.
Alone by the cab Jie leant in and ejected the music CD to surf the channels until he found the local news station.
Delivery men worldwide consistently collect polystyrene coffee cups, polystyrene fast food containers, cigarette packets and newspapers with which to decorate the front dashboard.
Between the news channel stories and speed reading newspaper articles, ignoring the obvious tabloid favourites’ of who-is-screwing-who by identifying the cliché’ bylines’, Jie gleaned an insight into local events in French Guiana since they had departed from China.
The plan to tie up the troops chasing illegal gold miners from Brazil had worked well, much better than expected in fact.
A television news channel had persuaded the gendarmes to allow a news crew to embed with one of their jungle patrols to better cover this increase of the illegal mining problem. The presence of a young pretty reporter may possibly have had some bearing on the gendarmes becoming a little over eager to please in the execution of their duties.
They not only turned away would-be miners they encountered at the border, destroying their tools, but they also stopped and searched Garimpeiros crossing back into Brazil, seizing any gold they were carrying.
If the eight man patrol of gendarmes believed the Garimpeiros would meekly accept the loss of their earnings and would not seek retribution and restitution at gunpoint then they were at best optimistic. The gendarmes had soon reported the TV crew and themselves were surrounded by ten times their number somewhere near the Surinam, Brazil and Guiana borders. Nothing more had been heard of them in almost two weeks. Under pressure from the media and the ministry the governor had taken what action he could, bearing in mind that he had zero chance of reinforcement from Europe.
By replacing the jungle fighting expert legionnaires’ at the ESA and Soyuz sites with the as yet non jungle qualified, but conventionally trained soldiers undergoing courses at the jungle warfare school, he had two hundred more boots on the ground searching for the missing reporter, cameraman and policemen.
This was good news Jie decided, far less chance of an awkward ‘‘Who the hell are you?” moment from one of the genuine articles before they got inside.
Only here, out of all the locations in sight of the ocean was the blackout not in place.
The ESA perimeter was covered with pressure sensors, ultra-sonic movement alarms and lo-lite CCTV which required no illumination, but the checkpoint at the entrance was lit up as bright as day and it was towards this oasis of spot lights and 200 watt bulbs that Jie led his troopers.
The approaching squad were under observation as they approached, the barrels of a pair of ‘Thirties’ tracking them unerringly from the moment the holding area soldiers had informed the guardroom of armed ‘friendlies’ on the way.
Before them was a long stretch of straight, level road with the jungle and undergrowth cleared for twenty five metres at either side. That was a long way to go to reach any kind of cover from view if they should need to.
They were committed.
Three and a half miles beyond the entrance it was possible to make out the Italian Vega launch pad with a tall slim column in place and illuminated by floodlighting. The lighting was not for the benefit of the press, although it does make for eye catching footage and career defining photography, the primary purpose is simply to spot problems such as leaks and loose or missing inspection panels because at the end of the day even rocket scientists can screw up.
Unlit and invisible in the rain and night but only three quarters of a mile from Vega was the more substantial Ariane 5 pad. Accidents can happen so at no time was their dual activity taking place at both Vega and its relatively close-by neighbour.
Soyuz though, was six miles distant and an Ariane 5 rocket was in place there. Rain pelted its length, rattling off the casing of its fantastically expensive payload package with a sound identical to that which it was making on the rusted corrugated tin roofs of dilapidated and abandoned fishermen’s huts near the beach.
Two miles closer but half hidden behind jungle not yet cleared was the tall white final assembly building. The Ariane pads next customer was stood outside on a giant transporter that would deliver it at 3mph, slowly but surely once the Vega had lifted its package into orbit.
Jie and his men arrived at the illuminated entrance point just as the downpour came to a sudden end.
Once more ‘accidentally’ depressing the transmit switch of his radio Jie sang softly and tunelessly. “…voyez…Ces oiseaux blancs…Et ces maisons rouillées…” He waited for the acknowledging ‘click’ from the other end before he removed his bergen and left his men standing in a group, chatting quietly together in a non-threatening manner on the side of the roadway but studiously ignoring the French army regulars who were in evidence.
A junior NCO checking the driver’s documents of the vehicles that arrived and a second soldier ostentatiously covering him gave the newcomers an appraising look before ‘blanking’ them in return.
Captain Jie Huaiqing wore the rank of a ‘Sergent Chef’, a Colour Sergeant equivalent, owing to ninety percent of the legions officer corps being French regular army officers on secondment he would have been asking for trouble if he had posed as one of the ten percent raised from the ranks.
At the guardroom window though, he found not a senior army NCO in charge, but a marine lieutenant with a broken wing.
A fall during the descent of a slippery hillside on one of the jungle warfare courses cross country navigation exercises had put the marine out of action, but at these ‘all hands to the pumps moments’ even the walking wounded can be found a task within their limited abilities.
The officer nodded and pointed to his right arm in a sling by way of apology at not returning Jie’s salute.