“What’s he doing here?” asked Mikhail having thought the same thing as Igor.
“Good Question!” Igor replied assuming at that moment the putsch wasn’t now so imminent.
“Let me know what your boys in Addis come up with in respect to the trucks,” offered Mikhail towards Igor being older and more experienced. He was thinking something must be up.
Two hours later, while Thomas and Jawari were still having their meeting with the two tribal elders and their advisers, Igor received his answer.
Picking up his ringing codex phone, he quickly answered it. He listened carefully what Sergei had to say. The grim look on his face told the waiting Mikhail the whole story.
“It appears that our friends have been busy picking up Armored type 63 personnel carriers at the airport this morning, and as we speak are on their way back to the border,” Igor said completely disregarding his own private assumption with respect to the putsch not being imminent of earlier.
“As it will take them about nine hours to return to Borama so add that to load time plus customs perhaps a stop or two, say two hours. That means we have until 20:00 hours before they arrive then maybe an hour or so after that for them unload them,” Benny said out loud making calculations on timing as he went along.
“As soon as they get here they will almost certainly start their operation,” injected Mikhail.
“We will be getting some additional support from Damascus in the form of two teams,” Igor offered to have been told by Sergei that he had ordered them to be deployed to him.
“How many?” asked Mikhail, having already mentally calculated that they will arrive approximately at the same time as the trucks.
“Twenty,” answered Igor.
“It will still take them about six hours best case, say seven hours to get here,” offered Igor’s deputy Aytrom before adding that they had only two PMILE–general purpose machines guns with 12.7mm rounds within their kit having also checked the strength of the armor on the carriers on the Getac laptop.
“Better make sure they put extra PMILEs in their kits, please,” Igor asked Aytrom who nodded his head in response then began typing out the request on encrypted emails to the quartermasters of units C and D.
“This is going to be tight. Anything else your boys can get to us?” asked Mikhail using the old Israeli logic of military operations never run on time.
“Yes, but we must get Jawari’s permission before we can receive the authorization from Command for them to deploy,” he said before explaining further that they could have two hundred men from the 3rd Guards Spetsnaz Brigade GRU in the theatre within twelve hours.
“We better go and tell the boss then,” said Mikhail getting up never actually believing he would be so happy see the sight of two hundred Russians Spetsnaz commandos arriving in his lifetime.
Taking lunch with Rooble Ali the leader of the Lughaya Clan and Rashid Dualeh Jawari the President’s uncle and leader of his own Clan from Saylac Thomas was in a pensive mood.
The reason as to why they were having lunch was because both were representatives the Upper House and of the Issa, the main Clans that held responsibility for the safety of Adwalland. A right given to them because of their shared Arabian roots that dated back to Aqeel ibn Abi Talib the second son of Abu Talib, the uncle and protector of Muhammad.
In their late seventies, the men were not only the oldest Clan heads, but also tough no nonsense men having fought, initially, in the brutal civil war against Said Barre the former leader of the dictatorial regime of Ethiopia.
Both had suffered terrible losses of children of both sexes as the aggressor’s troops and militia shelled bombed and strafed all towns and villages in Awdalland before they finally set aside their traditional differences and joined together to fight the SNM’s in the early 1990s.
Both were also determined to see their country and their grandchildren no longer fall back under the boot of oppression.
Although initially distrustful and suspicious of the President’s foreign friend they had finally bonded with Thomas on his trip five years ago when he had informed them that his own daughter was Muslim, and sworn on his child’s life that he would support their country’s birth as a nation.
With Thomas having fulfilled all his promises to them despite their minor sub-clans having their head turned by Wasir’s Indian friend, they had steadfastly stood by the President despite their initial reservations over the Russian naval base forming part of the deal.
Then, over many shishas together, they finally concluded that the base would offer great economic opportunities and more importantly security if the Somali or other neighboring states decided to cast lustful eyes towards the bounty of natural resources that lay off their coast. The decision was made easier by seeing how well their respective Clan members from Djibouti were prospering from the Americans foreign presence primarily through Camp Lemmonier. This wasn’t known however to the President or their friend.
Earlier with their greetings out of the way, symbolized by the kissing of each cheek and then, a third time with a hug the three men had sat.
“Sheikh, we are very grateful for all your support!” Rashid said expressively in Arabic, using the word Sheikh in a respectful manner as a thank you for the ten million U.S. dollars in cash Thomas had brought and handed over to them both without comment or conditions.
“You are most welcome my friends,” replied Thomas in Arabic taking the hand of Rooble Ali first then Rashid as he was slightly younger with both hands to show respect each time.
“We look forward to our friend President Putin’s Ambassador’s arrival in Borama next week,” offered Rashid as conversation filler while the hotel staff entered with dates, pastries, and chilled fruit juices.
Once the Cismah’s staff departed, Rooble Ali continued where he left off as he picked up a date with his right hand.
“Sheikh Omar tells us that you are concerned about Wasir and his friend.”
“That is correct, great Sheikh,” replied Thomas ensuring he showed his concern in his face using the title granted to men who were direct descendants of Muhammad. Something both these men were.
Rashid offered that there was no need, for all elders were fully behind the strategy of having Russia as a tenant in Lughaya having seen how many of their extended family and friends had prospered in Djibouti. Suddenly, Thomas felt a lot better. With a beaming smile, Thomas replied in kind that he was pleased while actually thinking privately he had just had his “pocket picked” by the cunning elders over the way they merely dismissed the deal offered by the Indian.
With this important agreement out of the way, the President as they had agreed beforehand, took over the next part of the mini conference.
Yesterday, when the pair of them had discussed the need to remove Wasir from the scene, the President explained this could prove extremely difficult because he provided a valuable source of income to many sub-Clans nevertheless he had changed mind in an instant when Thomas advised about the impounding of the helicopter gunship, the sending of his trailer trucks to Addis, and when his Head of Security advised him of the discovery of the two hundred foreign fighters this morning.
When Omar had been informed of Wasir’s treachery he had nearly gone into meltdown. Nevertheless he knew he needed to make sure they had the Clan leaders’ ongoing support; something that allowed him to manage to contain his anger.
That being granted, he took the gloves off.
As Omar set about explaining with lots of hand movements to his tribal elders in excitable Somali what Wasir was up, to Thomas could tell by the look on their grim faces they were completely shocked.