“The team is here waiting for us; they waited for confirmation as to the president’s arrival and only flew in last night.
Harvey drove through a large gate with a high wall. I saw a white building set back amongst some trees. In front of the building were five black Land Cruisers.
As soon as we pulled up, a group of men in dark combat gear like mine appeared. Most were white, but there were two of three dark faces amongst them. There was also a tall Ghanaian army officer in an immaculate uniform. Harvey introduced me to him as the person in charge of the operation. The man’s eyes widened with surprise at seeing that I was female, but he still gave me an enormous grin, baring another set of white teeth.
“Cap, this is Major Mahama of the Ghanaian army. He’s agreed to come with us to ensure we don’t fall foul of the local police or military. Major, this is Miss Blanchard, she’d directing this operation.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am, I did not expect a woman,” he said, quite honestly.
“Pretend I’m not one,” I replied, shaking his hand.
“It would be too difficult, I think,” he said.
“Try,” I said, turning to Harvey. “Has the team been briefed?”
“Yup, all we know is that somewhere on either side of the border an attack is likely. If it’s over here, they can blame the Ghanaians and everything will blow over, but if it’s over there, no one will ever know the truth.”
“How many troops crossed the border?”
“Two hundred and fifty,” it was the Major that answered.
“Fully armed?” I asked.
“Yes, but they’ve surrendered their weapons on the understanding they get them back when they return with their president. They’ve been kept in an old school near Bawku with my men guarding them.”
“How many of your men?”
“One company.”
“Ninety men?” I asked.
“Eighty-five,” he said, frowning at my knowledge.
“Where are the Mgombi military vehicles and do they have access to them?”
“They came over in some old trucks, handed over their rifles and parked the vehicles by the school. They still have access to their vehicles. I did not see any reason to deny it.”
“Did your men search the vehicles?”
“Of course,” he said, but I sensed his own doubt in his men’s ability to thoroughly search anything.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, checking the map for the places he named.
“The soldiers will be escorted by the Ghanaian army to this side of the border. At that point, their weapons will be returned to them and then they’ll take over and escort their president back into his country.”
“That’s it?”
He nodded.
“So, if some or all of these men are not loyal to the returning president, what can your men do to stop an assignation?”
The Major stared at me for a moment, saying nothing.
“I thought so,” I said. “I suggest, Major, if you don’t want a blood-bath on Ghanaian soil, you escort the foreign soldiers back onto their own turf as soon as possible and tell them they can escort their leader once he’s over. That way you can delay the handover until we can get into position, and ensure that nothing happens in Ghana. You can contact your company, can’t you?” I asked.
He nodded and took out the ubiquitous cell phone.
“Best we get there as soon as possible, then. Call the team and I’ll brief them,” I said to Harvey as the Major gave his instructions over the phone.
It seemed almost surreal, but it was as if I was back as I had once been. I felt the surge of adrenalin just like I remembered before an operation. I grinned and wiped the sweat from my brow.
In moments, a group of twenty men surrounded me, all looking at me with expectant expressions, Some, I thought were waiting for me to make a fuck-up, but most, I guessed, had been briefed by Maryanne. I wondered what she had said.
It took me a couple of minutes to explain the situation and give my decisions.
“We have two things in our favour. The first is that they won’t expect us and the second is won’t believe that we’ll be capable of doing what we will do. I’m not convinced that the enemy will be amongst the soldiers. It could be the whole detachment, but I doubt it. I think it far more likely and more effective if a single section of around ten men manage to mingle with the genuinely loyal troops and take the opportunity to take out the president and then get lost amongst the other soldiers in the confusion.
“I also believe that they’ll want to try to act before they get to their own border. What little Intelligence we have suggests that a regiment of soldiers loyal to G'ymbai have deployed close to the border on the other side. Therefore, any attempt on Holasu G'ymbai’s life may be while he is still in Ghana, so to avoid any inflammation of internal problems. They can then blame the Ghanaians and the international community and claim complete un-involvement. We all know its bollocks, but they’ll try.
“I’ve suggested to the Ghanaians that they start removing the foreign detachment before G'ymbai gets there, so removing the problem from Ghanaian soil, but that’ll only push things back into Mgombi. With the large detachment of soldiers loyal to the returning exile, I think they’ll wait until they get close to the capital before they try anything. Here’s what I want you to do…”
I then instructed each team of four in what I expected them to do. When I asked for questions, a few intelligent questions were forthcoming, and I could tell from the men’s expressions that they approved of my summary and decisions.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, and watched as the men went to their vehicles, prepared their weapons and started up the engines. Major Mahama looked at me.
“You are a soldier?” he asked.
“Once I was, but now I’m a fashion reporter,” I said, cocking the MP5 that was strapped across the body armour on my chest. I opened the back door of my car for him. Silently he got in.
It was hot and very dusty, so I took a mouthful from my water-bottle.
“My men are escorting the Mgombi troops back into their country at this time,” the Major said. He sounded relieved.
“I’m not sure why you ever let them in,” I said.
He shrugged, spreading his hands.
“They turned up and the border commander had no instructions to the contrary, besides, he was out-numbered and did not want to create a diplomatic incident. He called our government in Accra and someone told him to allow them in. That’s when we got involved.”
I nodded, knowing what governments were like at making informed decisions.
It did not take us long to get to the border.
When we arrived I was surprised at the congestion and apparent chaos. Larger, overburdened trucks of all ages, sizes and roadworthiness seemed parked, or otherwise abandoned, in a haphazard fashion anywhere there was room.
The drivers were either queuing at the at the small border control office for the necessary paperwork to be completed, or were sitting in the shade waiting to that paperwork to be processed. It took, we understood several days in some cases, and often involved bribes to officials on both sides of the border. Meanwhile a whole assortment of people, mainly young boys and women of all ages were attempting to sell their wares, or in the case of some young women, themselves to the drivers.
“Dese women, they are responsible for spreading disease like AIDS,” the Major said from the back.
“No one forces the men to sleep with them,” I pointed out.
“If you guys improved your efficiency and cut the corruption at these places, then the trucks wouldn’t stop for long enough for anyone to get laid,” suggested Harvey.