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This enabled the forces loyal to Jawari to gain the upper hand as the world began to get more and more tweets and live video that was being placed on the Internet and sent to world media sources and not just what had been peddled by Wasir.

It was to cost them dear.

50

Washington, D.C.

The Russians placing their armed forces on Elevated Combat Readiness had caught the Executive Decision making arm of the United States of America on the hop.

It was something they had not done since 9/11. On that occasion, it had been a response to President Bush’s decision to place United States of America armed forces on DEFCON 2. This was completely different.

“Mr. President, I recommend we do the same,” suggested the Chief of Staff as their Commander in Chief sat back down in the situation room five floors down below the White House swimming pool.

The President didn’t hesitate; he instantly gave the order to do so.

This wasn’t a time for questions as to why they had done it.

That was to come later.

Turning towards the young air force officer in front of the safe computer connection over which messages are exchanged through email via the National Command Centre and the Kremlin the President asked his Secretary of State to propose the message with the question as to why they had done this.

“Foreign Minister Lavrov, the United States is authorized under the Security Council S/RES/2200 (2013) to provide support to the United Nations Mission in Lughaya, why are Russian forces elevating their combat readiness?”

The next ten minutes became a series of arguments over who was right and wrong before the Chief of Staff interrupted the Secretary of State and the President.

“Sir, two aircraft have been picked up entering Adwalland air space, our F-15’s report that they appear to be two commercial Il-76s. He is requesting permission to fire upon them to force them to turn around because they are refusing to answer his requests to identify.”

The President gave his authorization.

“Box Two, permission granted fire a warning shot!” the Air Force Chief of Staff member ordered.

Seconds later the direct link fired up.

“The aircraft are carrying military personnel to provide support for the democratically elected President of Adwalland if you continue to fire on them, we will respond accordingly!”

“Have they lost their minds!” said the President.

“Where do we stand, John?” he quickly asked the Secretary of State.

The tall Bonesman and graduate of Yale answered that legally they were within their rights.

“We can only respond within the Mission guidelines despite whether or not the President they are assisting is the one who ordered the attack on the compound.”

“What’s your recommendation?”

“Tell them we accept their formal identification as Military Aircraft of the Russian Federation and then advise them that if they deviate from their predesigned course of Aden Isaaq International Airport we will consider them as representing a direct threat to our rescue mission and will respond accordingly. We argue about whether they are enemy combatants or not in the Security Council in any case, it should buy us time to complete the rescue mission!” he then added.

The President nodded his approval towards the computer operator then took over the conversation.

“Foreign Minister Lavrov, this is the President of the United States…” He started.

A moment later he had his answer from the President of the Russian Federation accepting the terms with his own caveat at the end that if American Armed Forces attempted to give aid to the criminal Wasir Osman Hassan they would consider this an act of war on an allied nation of the Russian Federation and respond accordingly.

“Typical FUCKING Putin!” responded the Secretary of State with a shake of the head.

“Mr. President, BAILOUT is on the ground and securing the mission!” The Real Admiral in charge of Naval Special Warfare Command said, interrupting the exchange.

“Casualties?” the President asked.

“Looks like over eighty dead, with eight survivors,” reported the Real Admiral.

The President grimly thanked him for the update. “We need to get in the end zone on this!” he thought privately to himself.

51

Borama

“Packet. We have reached the second floor!” shouted the Ukrainian commander over his radio to Martin who was in his command location across the street with Wasir. The battle had been raging for over two hours, and it was going badly as none of Wasir’s useless bunch of cutthroats had kept any of their objectives they had secured. It suddenly got a whole lot worse for Martin once Wasir got off the phone with one of his men.

“Mr. Andrew, the Russians are at the airport!” the ashen-faced Wasir stated.

“What, how many!” Martin replied. He tried to comprehend where the devil they had come from. The Russians didn’t have any armed forces within nine hours of Borama apart from the men guarding the President and fighting tooth and nail across the street and who so far had taken out over ninety men in the process.

“My men tell me two planes have arrived with over three hundred white devils with fighter jets also in support,” the ex-pirate replied crestfallen. His plans in ruins!

“That’s it then, Minister. I am afraid we have to retire!” Martin replied they were outnumbered and now out-gunned.

“No! If we can take the President all is not lost!” ordered the Minister desperately.

Martin looked at Wilson first then replied over the radio, ignoring him.

“Packet Four, withdraw. Mission is a scrub!” he wasn’t about to send his men to their deaths just because of the ego of a warlord.

“No!” cried Wasir again this time pulling his weapon. Immediately Wilson with his already in his hands cocked his own weapon in the same movement towards Wasir, his son, and his bodyguard before they even got a chance to pull theirs. Not wanting to die, both men relaxed their movements.

“Minister, it is necessary that we get you to safety,” offered Martin in an attempt to defuse the situation.

“That way you can fight another day, my friend,” responded Andrew with his hands up in a calming gesture towards the wild eyed Somali, not meaning a word of it as his primary objective now was to get out alive.

“He is right, father!” replied Mohammed agreeing with the Englishman. He had no wish to die in this room chasing a lost cause.

Wasir’s eyes continued flashed in anger, but the primal need for survival overrode his desire to press on.

“We go!” he said as he stormed off with his son and bodyguard out of the room.

“Time to go RSM,” Martin said with a sigh, knowing his bonus had also left the building.

“I will let the Boss know it’s a scratch!” Wilson answered shaking his head like his former Commanding officer over the disappointment of the loss of the bonus he had been promised and to tell Gourgamani to stay put at the Sammo while they made their way to him as they had pre-agreed to depart on his plane if things were scratched.

As they started to drive away in their Land Cruiser, the former RSM turned to old commanding officer, his face ashen.

“I can’t reach him!”

“Sir!” Wilson said reverting to type under stress and fearing what that meant.

Before Martin could say anything in response, machine gunfire strafed their vehicle.