Bishop continued. "Answer my questions and I'll give you the death you want. I'll shoot you myself. It will be quick."
Sagrib held his lips firmly shut but his eyes betrayed his growing panic.
"How did you find our camp?"
Bishop started the circular blade and the faint smell of burning ozone wafted up from its electric motor. He moved it closer to the Arab's knee and the blade ripped through the filthy desert fatigues.
Still Sagrib said nothing.
Bishop inched the spinning blade closer and it sliced into skin. Sagrib grunted as his flesh parted. The blade sprayed a fine mist of blood and his resolve dissolved.
"The Chinese operative, Yang," Sagrib hissed.
"How did he know where to find us?"
"The Chinese have agents all through the South. One of them found it. I don't know how."
"Tell me more about Yang. What does he look like?"
"He's Chinese, small, a fighter. I don't know, they all look the same."
"So now you work for the Chinese?"
Sagrib spat in the dust. "No, I work for Omar. The Chinese work for us. They bring us guns and we give them oil."
"How many more Janjaweed does Omar have?"
Sagrib started laughing, cackling like an animal. "That's why it doesn't matter if you kill me. He has thousands more. He fills the Janjaweed pockets with gold and they kill anyone who stands in his way. There are hundreds more men like me, thousands more warriors of Islam. We cannot be beaten. It doesn't matter how many men the CIA sends, it will not be enough."
Bishop stared at the Arab for a few seconds before he wiped the grinder on the man's pants and placed it back in the tool kit.
Sagrib waited, hoping for a gunshot that would end his pain.
Bishop closed the toolbox and made for the exit.
"Shoot me," Sagrib begged.
The PRIMAL operative continued out the door.
"You promised me you'd shoot me!" Sagrib screamed. "I told you what you wanted. Give me the death I deserve."
Bishop stopped and turned back to face him. The Janjaweed commander's face was a mask of hatred mixed with intense pain.
"I lied." Bishop turned to the guards. "Give him to the villagers. Let them decide what to do with him."
He walked away from the screaming Arab.
Mirza stepped in beside him. "So what now?"
"Now we cut off the head."
Chapter 29
Khartoum, Sudan
"We've had a minor setback." Omar was sitting at his desk in the PETROCON tower, talking into his speaker phone as he drummed his thick fingers on the desk. It had taken him an entire day to summon the courage to make this call. It was now mid-morning, the day after the ambush that wiped out Sagrib and his men.
"You call this a minor setback?" Zhu's voice hissed through the speaker. He had already been briefed by Yang on the failure.
"The Janjaweed followed up on your intelligence."
"Which was accurate."
"Yes...but they were ambushed by a larger force and now most of my men are dead, including Sagrib."
There was silence as the Chinese oil executive paused. His anger was still sharp.
"I send you weapons, vehicles and intelligence and still you cannot crush a group of old men and children. Omar, I am beginning to think that you are wasting my time."
"I will fix this problem, Zhu. I've already gathered more men. I can replace Sagrib. All we need is more equipment. The Dinka must be destroyed. Sagrib's men will have killed most of them already. There will only be a handful of the dogs left. It is Allah's—"
"Omar!" the Chinese businessman interrupted. "What you need to understand is that China does not care for your petty war or your religious ranting. Do not think for one minute that this is anything more than a business transaction. China needs oil and we will negotiate with whoever has it. At this stage it would seem that is not you."
Omar swallowed nervously. "We will have the oil, believe me. I have sent for more Janjaweed, twice as many as before. I just need more guns, more vehicles and more intelligence."
"More, more, more! Your little war has already cost China millions, Omar, and for what? So far the amount of oil that has been pumped out of your squalid little country pales in significance compared to the price of a merchant ship, a brigade's worth of armor, toys for your Janjaweed and a helicopter."
The Sudanese politician's jowels jiggled as he shook his head. "None of that is my fault. How was I to know the CIA would help the Dinka? You told me there was no chance of that."
Zhu remained silent.
Omar continued, "I have sent for twice as many men. We cannot fail."
Still the Chinese businessman said nothing.
"Given the extra costs I would be willing to offer a cheaper price on the oil."
Finally the Chinese businessman's voice emitted from the speakerphone on Omar's desk.
"That will not be necessary. China is committed to this venture. I have already ordered replacement vehicles. They are on the way to the refinery. Your men will report to Yang there and will work for him directly. Ensure they understand this. I will not have production delayed through the incompetence of another of your religious fanatics."
"And equipment?"
"It will be supplied. Ensure your men do not fail us again, Omar."
The speaker emitted a beeping tone. Zhu had terminated the call.
Chapter 30
Kaljak Village and PETROCON Refinery
Garang and most of the fighters had a well-deserved twenty-four hours rest before recommencing operations. The PRIMAL team worked non-stop. Mitch completed multiple resupply flights with Dragonfly. Bishop and Mirza, with the assistance of Jonjo, were busy conducting reconnaissance and planning future operations. The next focus was the Chinese oil refinery and logistics base nearly fifty kilometers away.
Five thousand feet above the oil refinery an eagle soared on a thermal updraft. During the day the empty steel pipes trapped the heat of the sun. In the cool of the afternoon they released that energy in the form of a column of warm air. The eagle used the natural elevator to climb into the sky, conserving his own energy reserves as he searched for prey.
As the bird conducted a lazy turn, something caught his eye. He peeled off to investigate, dropping a few hundred feet to fly directly above an electric UAV.
The intruder's sensors were orientated towards the ground. A tiny, yet powerful camera swiveled in a gimbal mount as the craft cut a slow circle in the air.
The eagle gave the strange creature a few moments before deciding it was neither small enough to eat, nor large enough to prove a threat. He turned away, returning to his own hunt.
Nearly fifty kilometers away, Mitch was controlling the UAV from his laptop. A cable linked the laptop to the satellite communications suite in the Wildcat. A crowd had gathered around the tailgate of the vehicle, watching the high resolution feed.
"So many," Jonjo said as the camera revealed the rows of gunned-up trucks parked inside the Chinese refinery. Activity in the base was high; armed men were busy loading up the vehicles and moving between the buildings.
"Are you surprised?" Garang snapped. "Omar has called up more of his men. With the Janjaweed eating from his hand and the Chinese providing the metal, he has a never-ending army."
"We can fight them!" declared Jonjo. He looked towards his leader. "We already destroyed a force five times our own, yes?"
"Without more men we cannot fight that." Garang jabbed his finger at the screen.
Bishop said nothing. He turned and gave Mirza a grim look.
"We're nearly out of battery power, team. Any last minute requests before the fat lady sings?" asked Mitch.
"Can you give us a quick scan of their defenses?" asked Bishop.
"Got less than a minute. I'll pull in real tight and give you a bit of a geezer."
The blurry shapes in the image gained clarity as the UAV banked and closed with the refinery. Within second
s they could make out the refinery's improved defenses. The outer perimeter bristled with heavy machine-guns, sand-bagged fortifications reinforcing the entire fence line.
"Bugger. We're nicked," Mitch said.
Everyone watching could make out the muzzle flashes that lit up the screen as the refinery guards spotted the drone and opened fire.
"Little Nellie's all out of juice, mate," he declared.
"Kamikaze?" asked Bishop.
"Why the fuck not! Our plastic fantastic deserves to go out with a bang."
Mitch pitched the little craft forward and it power dove towards the refinery, shuddering as a round clipped its wing. Mortally wounded, it started to barrel roll, corkscrewing as it fell from the sky. Mitch maintained control and a spinning shot of a group of Janjaweed fighters came into view. They were all staring directly at the camera. They grew in size as the drone plummeted towards them.
Jonjo laughed as their faces filled the screen, looks of terror and confusion painted on hard Arab features.
Then the screen went blank as five kilograms of aircraft slammed into the men.
The handful of SFF men watching cheered. Jonjo slapped Mitch on the back.
"We injure two and a hundred more replace them." Garang's harsh tone cut through the joviality.
No one noticed Jess standing at the back of the group. She stared at Garang with a sad look. She had joined them in time to see the Arab army that had assembled at the refinery and she had watched Garang cut down Jonjo's enthusiasm.
As the group dispersed, Jonjo brushed past, ignoring her. She waited until the other SFF had moved away and approached the three operatives still standing at the back of their truck.
"He's right, isn't he?" she asked Bishop.
Mitch closed the laptop and gestured for Mirza to join him. Jess waited for the two men to wander back towards Dragonfly before she continued.
"They can't win, not without more help."
Bishop took a second to reply, noticing the doctor seemed to look more beautiful the dirtier she became. Her soft features were covered in the grime of Africa: blood, dirt and cordite.
"Where there is a will, there is always a way."
"It's the will that I'm worried about."
Bishop noticed that she was still carrying the AK he had given her, slung over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"
"He is changing, Aden. The will isn't there any more. I'm worried he's giving up."
"You need to keep him focused, Jess."
"How can I do that when he won't even look at me, let alone talk to me?"
"Combat does funny things to people, Jess. Believe me, I've seen enough of it to know. He might seem a little distant but I don't think he's about to throw in the towel."
"Aden!" Mitch yelled from Dragonfly's open door.
"Look, I've got to check in with my HQ but I'll be around later if you want to talk some more."
"OK." Jess smiled and Bishop couldn't help but return the gesture. Then he turned on his heel and jogged towards the aircraft and a video conference with the Bunker.
Chapter 31
Kaljak Village, Abyei District
"What's the time over there, team?" Vance's voice filled the cabin of the PRIMAL aircraft, even though he and Chua were sitting in one of the PRIMAL conference rooms in the Bunker nearly 7,000 kilometers away. Dragonfly was still on the ground in Kaljak with Mitch, Bishop, and Mirza sitting in the cabin, using the aircraft's comms package to establish the video conference with their HQ.
"Just after 1700," replied Bishop as he unwrapped a protein bar.
"So by my calculations it's been forty-eight hours since I've heard from you. Too busy to drop me a line and tell me what the fuck is going on?"
"Sorry about that, Vance, but we've had some issues at this end," he said between mouthfuls. "After the defensive operations we bugged out to Kaljak and since then we've been trying to get things sorted."
"No problem with that. What I don't like is getting my blue force info from my intel guy. Chua's got enough on his plate trying to track down this Yang fucker without having the ops staff leaning over his shoulder every five minutes."
"Yeah, OK, I get it. We'll keep you up to date."
"Damn straight you will. Just because you're always going in all guns blazing doesn't mean you can't find five minutes to dial home."
"Hey, I wasn't the one blazing away. This time it was Mitch that saved the day," replied Bishop. He grinned as the PRIMAL pilot leaned out of the camera view and started shaking his bearded head making a chopping motion with his hand.
Vance raised his voice. "How the hell did he do that? Pretty damn sure I told him to keep that bird the fuck out of trouble."
"All good," Bishop backpedalled. "He just got the villagers out on time. Meant that Mirza and I could unleash hell on the Janjitards."
"Hmmm, why is it I think you're spinning me more shit than a Senator at a congressional hearing?"
"Scout's honor," said Bishop.
"I suppose you're not going to sell them out, are you, Mirza?"
"I would prefer not to be placed in that position, Vance."
"Well, the watchies here are telling me Dragonfly's running green across the board, so you can't have run it that close to the edge."
"Course not, boss," added Mitch. "Babied her all the way." Vance did not need to know about the bullet holes or emergency repairs he had done.
"Moving right along, Chua and I saw the feed from the refinery. Looks like they're building up for another push."
"Yep, too big for us to deal with," Bishop added. "We'd be playing whack-a-mole for a full month trying to deal with those bastards."
"My thoughts exactly, Aden," added Chua. "My team thinks there are at least 2-300 new fighters at the PETROCON facility. We've also hacked the Saudi Air Traffic Control system. PETROCON has four of their tail numbers clearing Saudi airspace in the next seventy-two hours. They're shipping in a ton of gear."
"Puts the SFF up shit creek without a paddle. How long will it take the Janjaweed to build up?" asked Bishop.
"Depends on a few factors. Firstly, if they're keen they can move in over the next twenty-four using what weapons they have. However, I think it's more likely they'll wait for all the gear. Give them a few days to break it out and knock over basic training and you've got a week."
"Not a lot of time," said Bishop. "And no hope of the UN bolstering their forces to counter them?"
"Nope, the Chinese vetoed the last call for an increase in troop numbers. Current forces are insufficient."
"Excuse me, gentlemen," Mirza interrupted. "What about this Omar character that keeps coming up? The Janjaweed commander we questioned said he worked for him and Garang thinks that he's the man behind the whole campaign. Chua, you also mentioned him during our initial briefing."
"Excellent point, Mirza. My source in Khartoum tells me that Omar is running an independent operation. He's got the unsanctioned support of the government as they cannot afford to be publicly associated with his actions."
"So Omar's running his own government-endorsed black ops with support from PETROCON," said Bishop.
"That's my assessment. I'm about to launch an op into China to follow up on the PETROCON side of the house. We're stretched pretty thin at the moment but I think Saneh can handle it."
Bishop raised an eyebrow at the mention of the Iranian operative's name. "More than capable."
"So what would happen if we took this clown Omar out?" asked Mitch.
"It would build on our current strategy," said Vance. "The Janjaweed build-up would be disrupted, buying us more time. And it would send a clear message to the corrupt fatcats in PETROCON headquarters."
"So what are we waiting for?" asked Bishop.
"I've already put a target pack together on his office building, Chinese built of course. Not the most detailed pack but you'll get the basic layout."
"Garang's been inside," added Mirza. "He was with the Dinka chief when he was beheaded. Should be a
ble to give us an idea where to find Omar's office."
Bishop nodded. "And let's not discount ambushing the prick on his way to work. Our time frames are tight but we can still get creative." He glanced at his watch. "If we punch out now, we can be in Khartoum by mid-morning tomorrow. I reckon we should go by road. That frees up Mitch to fly in more kit for the SFF."
The pilot nodded in agreement.
"Mirza and I will roll into town, recon the key locations and come up with a plan," continued Bishop.
"Mission approved," confirmed Vance. "Chua and I will be working it from this end. Do you have all the gear you need?"
"I've got full assault rigs on board along with some other bits and pieces that the lads might find a use for," said Mitch.
"OK, it's a wrap. Oh, one other thing, Bish. What happened to that Janjaweed motherfucker you captured?"
"He's hanging around with the locals, and I mean that in the most literal sense possible."
Chapter 32
Kaljak Village, Abyei District
"I want to come with you," Jonjo said as he helped Mirza load equipment into the back of the Wildcat. It was early evening and the night air was already filled with the cries of predators on the hunt. The two men worked in the faint glow of the vehicle's interior lighting, stacking the equipment cases between the truck's bench seats.
"You are needed here," replied Mirza.
"One more fighter here will not make a difference. I want to kill Omar. He killed my chief and my friends."
Mirza finished with the last of the pelican cases and turned to face the young African warrior. "Jonjo, this isn't about revenge. It is about survival. With you here, Garang and the other men have the best chance of surviving."
"What about you and Aden? Who will make sure you survive?"
Mirza laughed. "Keeping Aden alive is my full-time job."
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