“I say to you now, General Belewa, that these talks have failed. If word is not received from your government by midnight, tomorrow, that you are standing down your armed forces and ceasing your acts of aggression against the nation of Guinea, this embargo will be placed in effect.”
Belewa’s face was an expressionless study, his voice toneless. “As I said before, Madam Envoy, I do not know what more there is to be said on this subject.”
“Apparently nothing, General.”
Belewa rose abruptly. Without speaking, he turned and left the conference room. His chief of staff and the Algerian ambassador followed. The Algerian had possibly the only pleased expression in the room.
“That’s it, then,” Bey’s aide said quietly. “My God, doesn’t he realize that he will be taking on the entire world?”
“He knows, Lars,” she replied quietly. “Every generation seems to spin off one or two like him who are willing to give it a try. The frightening thing is that sometimes they win.”
General Belewa stood on the small balcony outside his private office, deeply inhaling the clean smell of the sea. He was glad he had chosen to keep the seat of the government here at what had been the Mamba Point Hotel. He liked the view. It reminded him of what the struggle was all about.
Below him, between the ridge of the point and the Mesurado River, the lights of the Union’s capital city glowed in the growing tropic dusk. Not as many as there should be yet, but a few more gleamed each night as old buildings were repaired and new ones constructed.
Vehicles moved in the streets as well. Again, not as many as there should be, but they served as heralds for a resurgent economy. As Belewa watched, a truck lumbered across the ironically named United Nations Bridge, heading north, possibly to the port or maybe up the coast to the Sierra Leone provinces.
No, more than likely the port. A ship was unloading tonight. Out beyond the long artificial breakwaters of Port Monrovia, Belewa could see the yellow glare of the work lights. In his mind’s eye he could visualize the tools, machinery, and armaments pouring ashore. The things he needed to make the Union strong. That cargo was more precious than ever now because it might be the last for some time.
Belewa inhaled deeply once more, drawing new strength from the night, then he returned to his responsibilities.
Sako Atiba and Ambassador Umamgi were waiting for him in the office. Belewa acknowledged the ambassador’s deep salaam with a brief nod.
“Your defiance in the face of the westerners was magnificent today, General,” Umamgi said as he straightened. “The Revolutionary Council salutes your courage.”
“It was something that had to happen eventually, Ambassador,” Belewa replied shortly, seating himself behind his desk. “Speaking frankly, I wish it could have been put off until later.”
“I also wish to assure you again, General, that the Council will stand at your shoulder during the coming struggle with the colonialists. You shall have our prayers.”
“A pity we couldn’t have a battalion of tanks and a few surface-to-air missiles as well,” Atiba interjected grimly.
Umamgi smiled without humor. “The Brigadier knows that we are a poor nation, as is your own, impoverished by our own struggle against the infidel West. However, we can promise to provide you with the long-range cargo aircraft you will need to maintain an air link with my nation and the outside world.”
Atiba lifted an eyebrow sardonically. “At a price, of course.”
“That’s enough, Sako,” Belewa interjected. “Ambassador Umamgi, you may rest assured that your alliance is held in great value by the Union. Your aid and assistance in these troubled times will be long remembered. We are most grateful for whatever assistance your nation can most generously offer.”
Umamgi smiled smugly and inclined his head.
“But,” Belewa went on levelly, “there are certain aspects of that aid we need to discuss, Ambassador.”
“And what are they, General?”
“We are extremely grateful for the cadre of military advisers and instructors that Algeria has sent us, Ambassador. However, we find that there is a minor problem with the curriculums they are using.”
“A problem?”
“Indeed.” Belewa nodded. “My advisers inform me that there is a degree of… religious indoctrination incorporated into most of the training programs.”
Umamgi smiled again, without humor. “Our troops are warriors of Islam. They only wish to share their beliefs with their comrades at arms.”
Belewa returned a cold smile of his own. “And they are welcome to. In the Union, all are free to choose their own faith, be it Christianity, Islam, or the beliefs of our African forefathers. Your soldiers are free to speak of their religion in the mosques, in the streets, wherever they choose…except for when they are on duty in my training camps.”
There was no longer even a false smile on Umamgi’s face.
“You will have this matter corrected, Ambassador.” Belewa’s words were a command and not a question.
The clash of wills was short. Umamgi half bowed. “As you wish, General. After all, we are guests in your country.”
“Thank you, Ambassador. And see to it tonight, if you please.”
“At once, General. Peace be unto you.”
The Algerian turned for the door, but not quite fast enough to conceal the scowl that came across his vulpine features.
After the ambassador had taken his leave, Sako Atiba donned a scowl of his own. “Damnation. Don’t we have enough trouble with our enemies that we have to be saddled with friends like that?”
Belewa gave a short laugh. “Not friends, Sako, allies. And allies are like relatives — you can’t choose them, you just have to accept them as they come.” His features grew sober again. “The Algerians seek to use us to further their aims just as we use them to further our own. It is a thing we must live with, my friend. We shall need all the help we can get for the next few months, from whatever source.”
Atiba shook his head. “This U.N. blockade. They will try to strangle the life out of us, Obe. Will they succeed?”
It was Belewa’s turn to shake his head. “I don’t know, my friend. This had to come sooner or later. To the Western world, it is a knee-jerk reaction to our national expansion. They don’t yet understand what we are trying to do here for ourselves and for all of Africa. They cannot see beyond the military occupations and the change in the status quo.”
Belewa rose from behind his desk and crossed the room to stand in front of the regional map tacked to the wall. “No, Sako. This confrontation had to come. It would have been better if we could have secured Guinea first, but we’ve made our preparations. We’re ready to take it on now.”
The Chief of Staff came to stand at his general’s side. “What is our first move, Obe?”
“We attack. In any war, victory lies only in the attack. Defense is the precursor to defeat.”
“And our target?”
Belewa’s hand came up, his finger aimed at a point on the map “There.”
Atiba’s eyebrows lifted. “At Conakry? At the main U.N. base?”
“If you would kill an enemy, what better place to strike than at his heart. For a long time, Sako, they have let us alone simply because we weren’t worth the trouble of bothering with. Now we must make them leave us alone by not being worth the blood price they will have to pay for interfering.”
Conflict