Sub-Sahara

by Ethan Arkwright

  ‘Exceptional circumstances can change things. They’re going, and I’ll tell you why. Two are scientists to deal with whatever the energy source is. It could be unstable. It could be highly radioactive. It could kill all of you if handled incorrectly. The third person is a fixer. Ex-army who has lived in North Africa for thirty years. Sells his services as culture ambassador and translator. None of your team speaks the local language, so in any sticky situations with the locals, he’s your man.’

  Cavill knew he was not going to win this argument. Sir Henry paid the bills, so he had ultimate say. But he was annoyed at the change in the terms of their agreement. As commander of the unit, he needed complete control as they went into a situation. Some of that was now gone. He would assess the full implications later.

  ‘Right. Let’s move on, then. The clock is ticking,’ Cavill said.

  ‘Exactly,’ Stratton replied, smiling. ‘All of your standard equipment packages are on the Gulfstreams, and the larger stuff was taken out of the bonded warehouse and put on a cargo plane, which left an hour ago for the next flight point. There’s also some nonstandard equipment on that flight. The scientist you are taking from Biggin, she is one of mine from the Culham Centre for Fusion Energy in Oxfordshire. Her name is Kate Edwards, and she can brief you on the rest of the equipment on the plane. That’s it. Now go. I look forward to a successful conclusion. Remember, speed is of the essence. Everyone will be piling in for this.’

  ‘Thanks, Henry,’ Cavill said. He turned on his heel and sprinted out of the room towards the plane.

  Chapter 11

  Looking down the interior, he could see half of his unit already strapped in. They looked clean and were dressed in fresh desert fatigues, ready for action. The other half of the unit would no doubt mirror this in the other plane.

  Not dressed in combat gear and looking clearly uncomfortable and out of place at the front was a small, blond woman. Cavill made straight for her as the plane picked up speed to take off. He sat next to her. ‘Kate Edwards, I’m James Cavill, commander of the expedition.’ He offered his hand in greeting.

  She took it awkwardly and looked at him with suspicion. ‘I thought all soldiers were illiterate meatheads,’ she said. ‘You speak like an educated man.’

  ‘Oh, really,’ Cavill said, feigning surprise. He had experienced this situation a few times before. ‘And the fact I went to Cambridge makes me a more worthy person than the rest of the people in my team?’

  ‘No…I…uh…’ Kate didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Well, while you’re with us, you can shove your high-class pretentions and do what you’re told. We don’t take passengers or civilians, so this is an extreme case. Let me be clear, you will not endanger my people. One of them is worth ten useless academics, so you will stay in line and follow my orders. Otherwise, I’ll throw you out of the plane and tell Sir Henry that you fell down a deep shaft in the pyramid. Understand?’

  The colour drained from Kate’s face as she saw the steel in his grey eyes and realised that he was completely serious.

  ‘Clear,’ she said softly.

  ‘Now,’ Cavill said, ‘Sir Henry told me there were extra instructions for some of the equipment. What are they?’

  ‘Well, I’ve a crate of scientific equipment, diagnostic and analytic tools to see what the energy source is. So that needs to be handled carefully. Then we have ten lead containers of different sizes to take the energy source out. Hopefully, it will fit into one of them, but we have no idea how big it is. Sir Henry also told me to give you this envelope and instructions to open it once you have the containers at the next plane change,’ Kate said.

  Cavill took the envelope. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good.’ Cavill stood up to head towards his troops. ‘Do what we tell you, and we might just get this energy source, and you could finally get the recognition you feel you deserve in life.’

  Kate’s face flushed in a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

  Cavill walked off.

  ***

  Jerry Cornell was smiling as Cavill came and sat next to him on the plane. ‘You give her the old Cavill charm, James?’ Cornell asked. ‘Are you going to tap that? She’s cute. If you don’t, I will.’

  Cornell was an American, a former US Navy SEAL. His nickname was ‘Caretaker,’ as he was thoroughly professional in taking care of whatever business needed doing to get the job done. He was also the flip side of the coin to Cavill: where Cavill was generally a gentleman due to his background, Cornell was a Southern roughneck with no qualms about anything. They had come to know each other during joint training missions involving their respective forces. They had started talking, become friends, reached the same conclusions about the limitations of government-backed Army Special Forces, and started the idea of a private Special Forces for Good team together. Cornell was second in command of the unit, and they had stocked the team mostly from their alma mater units. Of the current team of twelve, eight were former SAS, three were SEALs, and one had served with Sayeret Matkal, the Israeli special-forces unit.

  ‘Keep it in your pants, Jerry,’ Cavill said. ‘That stuck-up bitch is likely to be the first to get shot when it kicks off. It gets worse, too. We’re also taking two other civilians. Picking them up in Libya.’

  ‘What?’ Cornell said. ‘Hell, no!’

  ‘Afraid so,’ Cavill said. ‘Don’t worry about it now. I’ll brief everybody fully when we land. I’m going to take a shower at the back and then get my head down for some sleep like everyone else. Who knows when the next rest stop will be?’

  ***

  Cavill awoke with the plane touching down in southern Libya. As they exited the executive jet, they could see the huge Antonov transport straight in front of them. The plane had been rented from Ukrainian mercenaries on the circuit of ex-military now doing private hires. Cavill had used this pilot and his plane before, and he liked that the aircraft had been ‘modified’ with extras as if the crew were always expecting trouble.

  He ordered everybody to assemble in the hangar behind the Antonov for the mission briefing. As he walked through the door to the hangar, Cavill was met by two more men who clearly had been standing around waiting for him. The two men could not have looked more different. One was young, thin, and very clean with neat, dark hair. The other was in an aged and ragged safari suit. His messy hair was too long and bleached by sun. The young man stuck his hand out. ‘Mr. Cavill,’ he said, ‘I’m Chris Watkins. Sir Henry sent me.’

  ‘The second scientist,’ Cavill stated. ‘What’s your specialty?’

  ‘Molecular chemistry,’ Watkins said.

  ‘Different enough from Ms. Edwards, then. Do you know Kate Edwards?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve come across each other in research before,’ Watkins said.

  ‘And?’ Cavill didn’t like the forced smile. ‘You two get on?’

  ‘Yes, we are all professionals here.’

  ‘Make sure it stays that way on this mission. We don’t have time for distractions.’

  He turned his attention to the shorter man, who looked to be in his mid-fifties and had brown, leathered skin from years of sun exposure. ‘And you’re Matt Hayden.’

  ‘Yup,’ Hayden replied.

  Cavill thought that he looked far too relaxed to be coming on the mission.

  ‘Look, I’ll be honest here in saying I don’t think we need either of you. We’re going to be straight in and out of there, but you’re coming along for the ride. So, I’ll tell you what I told Kate Edwards. Do what you’re told at all times. Now move inside with the rest of the group for the briefing,’ Cavill said.

  Chris Watkins looked shocked at being spoken to in such a manner. Matt Hayden simply shrugged and walked off towards the group.

  Kate Edwards walked in and shot Watkins an icy look. Jerry Cornell brought up the rear.

  Cavill continued walking in with Cornell. ‘I’ve got serious misgivings about taking these idiots, Jerry,’ Cavill s
aid. ‘This could blow our whole operating model out of the water.’

  ‘Roger that,’ Cornell said.

  All twelve people of Cavill’s unit and the three civilians gathered around as Cavill explained the mission. He briefed them on the ancient city uncovered by the winds of the hurricane, the pyramid, and the objectives of finding the archaeologists and securing the energy source before any government forces turned up.

  ‘Turning to equipment,’ Cavill continued. ‘Infiltration package six is already loaded on the plane. We’re expecting a lot of company, so we’re taking some nice force multipliers: grenade machine guns, minidrones, antitank weapons, and the like. There is also an assortment of lead containers of different sizes to store the energy source safely and bring it back to Britain. To get in quickly, we’re going to parachute in, with the civilians going in off static line—’

  ‘Wait…what?’ Kate Edwards interrupted. ‘Parachute? I don’t know how to bloody parachute.’

  Chris Watkins looked equally concerned at this news.

  ‘You’ll be fine. The clue was in “static line.” You don’t have to do anything except land. We’ll show you the correct way to do that on the plane.’

  ‘But—’ Kate started.

  ‘You want to come, you’re parachuting in. Otherwise, you can make your way there yourself to find it already sealed off or make your own way back home from here. Those are your choices. I’ll give you two minutes to decide while I finish the briefing.’

  He turned to face the rest of his unit.

  ‘To get out, we’re dropping two Land Rover 110 desert patrol vehicles we picked up from the army when they switched to Supacats. We’ll evac south to the first usable airstrip and rendezvous with the Gulfstream jets to get the hell out. Any questions?’

  Silence.

  ‘Good. Everyone on the plane. We’re going.’

  ***

  Inside the plane, the large cargo boxes and Land Rovers took up all the space on the central aisle. The people were sitting in fold-down seats on each side of the fuselage. Once everyone was strapped in and the engines were roaring and pulling them into the sky, Cavill opened the envelope he had been given that contained special instructions regarding the lead containers. He read it a couple of times, and once the plane had stabilised at altitude, he unbuckled himself from his harness and called Jerry Cornell and Gil Evron from his team over.

  They all called Gil ‘the Professor.’ He was their computing and communications specialist. Every person on the team had a special weapon and skill. Cornell’s was the McMillan TAC-338 sniper rifle; he was the best shot in the unit. Evron’s was the hard-case laptop he always had in his backpack. The things he could do with satellites, drones, and communications in a battlefield application made him, in Cavill’s eyes, the most important member of the team. He was small and looked academic, hence his nickname. But the other team members had given up trying to roughhouse with him; Evron’s Krav Maga training in the Israeli Sayeret Matkal forces meant they always came off second best in unarmed combat.

  ‘Right,’ Cavill said. ‘Here’s the deal with these lead containers. There are ten in total, ranging in size from six that will fit inside backpacks to one the size of a trunk that will need two people to shift it. We need to expect enemy contact on the way out. It’s going to be very close on timing to get in and out with other forces also en route, so we need backup plans if we get caught. Now, Sir Henry has been quite inventive in what he’s done with these boxes, the crafty devil. I don’t know how he did this in the time available. The strings he can pull never cease to amaze me.’

  ‘That’s why he’s our sponsor,’ Cornell said.

  ‘Exactly,’ Cavill replied. ‘Now, of the six containers that we’ll carry in backpacks into the pyramid, two are genuinely empty. Two are filled with radioactive material, so if we hand them over and they are opened, they will give off a huge radioactive reading. These two are marked by a thumbnail of yellow tape on the bottom corner of the box.’

  ‘And what’s behind door number three?’ Cornell asked, smiling.

  ‘The last two are straight packed with a high explosive linked to a detonator that I’ll carry with me. These are marked on the bottom by thumbnails of orange tape. I’ve tied a Phrygian knot on the top strap of the radioactive backpack and a Lydian knot on the explosives one for quick identification from the outside. Now, Gil, you remember the “drone surprise” technique you invented on the last op?’

  ‘Of course,’ Gil Evron replied.

  ‘You have all the kit on board to execute it with these lead containers?’

  ‘Yes,’ Evron said. ‘To how many of them?’

  ‘All of them,’ Cavill said.

  ‘Done,’ Evron replied without batting an eyelid.

  ‘Good man,’ Cavill said. ‘We’ll leave you to it.’

  Cavill and Cornell moved back down the plane to return to their seats. As Cavill was buckling himself in, he looked around. Most of his troops either were getting their heads down for some sleep before the operation or were checking their personal weapons and equipment.

  He noticed one empty chair. He could see Matt Hayden sleeping and Kate Edwards writing in a notepad. Chris Watkins was nowhere to be seen.

  Cavill unbuckled himself and walked around the crates in the centre of the fuselage to look up the other side of the aircraft. He spotted Watkins right at the top of the plane, bent over and looking intently at the latch on one of the forward doors. Cavill swiftly moved up to him.

  Watkins was so intent on what he was doing that he did not notice Cavill until he grabbed his arm.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Cavill said.

  Watkins pulled away sharply. ‘Just having a look around,’ he said, smiling.

  ‘At what, specifically?’

  ‘The writing on the boxes, this door. It’s all quite exciting. Very “Boy’s Own” stuff all round. What are the weapons you mainly use?’

  ‘That’s none of your concern,’ Cavill said, towering over him in the semi-darkness. ‘What is your concern is doing your job without getting any of us killed, firstly, and then yourself, secondly. Now go back, sit down, and don’t let me see you going anywhere without one of my people standing next to you. Clear?’

  ‘Oh, sure. Sure. No harm meant,’ Watkins said, holding up his hands apologetically.

  Cavill did a quick visual inspection of the area. Nothing looked out of place or tampered with. He followed Watkins back to his seat and made sure he was buckled in before returning to his own seat.

  As he buckled up again, he looked across at the three civilians he was being forced to take on the mission and wondered what their true agendas were.

  Chapter 12

  An hour before they hit the drop zone, the team started making final preparations. Equipment and weapons were checked and rechecked. Cavill checked through everything in his full military kit multiple times, including the ‘plate carrier’ vest around his chest and back that was essentially a bulletproof vest and a tactical vest sewn into one. Everyone in the unit had one. They all followed the same basic process of mounting a hydration pack and batteries for their wireless radio earpieces on the back, under the grab handle, and field dressing and ammo on the front, where it’s handy. They also attached a variety of favoured weapons and pieces of gear. Cavill finished by putting on his Pro-Tec helmet and ESS goggles.

  After fixing his parachute, he pulled the final strap across his chest and then clipped and strapped his HK416 assault rifle to his chest. He was ready for the parachute drop. He looked across to see Cornell and Richard Sansom from his team instructing the civilians on how to land correctly after their parachutes were automatically opened by exiting the plane. They were already hooked up to the static line. Kate Edwards was white as a sheet, and her head twitched to give Cavill a ghostly, wide-eyed stare. He curved the corners of his mouth into a small smile in response to give her some comfort. She looked confused and turned her head back to Cornell. Cavill was dist
racted by the cockpit door opening and the co-pilot running towards him.

  ‘Pilot wants you urgently,’ the thickset, bearded Ukrainian said breathlessly, before turning back and lumbering towards the cockpit as fast as his heavy legs could carry him.

  Cavill checked his watch as he headed for the cockpit. It was seven in the morning. ‘We must be nearing the drop zone,’ he shouted to Cornell as he walked away. ‘Get everyone ready to go in five.’

  ‘Roger that,’ Cornell yelled back.

  ***

  ‘What’s going on?’ Cavill asked the pilot as he went through the cockpit door. ‘Are we nearly there?’

  ‘Yes,’ the pilot said in his thick Ukrainian accent. ‘But we have three contacts on the radar. One is a slow plane, probably a transport, coming in from the west. And two fast contacts coming from the south. They will be with us any moment.’

  ‘Fighters?’ Cavill asked. ‘Where would they come from?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ the pilot said. He flicked switches to zoom in on the radar screen.

  A few seconds later, there was a boom in the sky above the cockpit as two fighter jets buzzed the lumbering Antonov. Cavill and the co-pilot craned their necks to see what they were dealing with. The jets eased off to fly in line with them, both parties trying to identify each other.

  ‘I can see green roundels on the wing and fuselage,’ Cavill said.

  ‘Nigerian Air Force. Those are Chengdu F-7s,’ the co-pilot said. ‘I am going to get them on radio.’

  He furiously adjusted radio frequencies. ‘This is Antonov flight Bravo Victor seventy-four. We are carrying aid to the Sudan. We are not in Nigerian airspace. What are your intentions? Over.’ As soon as he stopped speaking, a torrent of Chinese came over the airwaves.

  ‘Chinese in Nigerian fighter planes? I don’t like this at all,’ Cavill said, pulling his Iridium Extreme 9575 satellite phone from his chest plate. He punched a couple of numbers and lifted the phone to his ear. ‘Christian? You hear me okay? We need help here.’