Reaper nodded and moved the microphone from Injil to herself. “And do these precautions have anything to do with reports of Eden refugees trapped on a nearby mountain across the border in Ethiopia?”
Injil looked uncomfortable as the microphone was pushed back into his face. “We have been ordered to close the border temporarily as a precaution. As far as the Edens there and what the Ethiopians decide to do about them, that does not concern us. Our role is to prevent their conflict from spilling over into our country.”
Reaper nodded encouragingly. “That makes perfect sense. Tell me, have you gotten any reports about what the Ethiopians intend to do about the Edens?”
“No,” Injil bent down to talk into the microphone, “but it is unlikely to affect what we decide to do. Kenya has a very tolerant policy toward Edens and sees no reason to change that.”
“Certainly a very enlightened policy,” said Reaper. “Captain, can you tell me how long this border will be closed? I mean, it looks like there are many trucks waiting to cross. Trade and commerce will certainly suffer if this continues for very long.”
“Not much longer,” said Injil. “I expect the border to be opened within a few days.”
“I see. Is it only this border crossing or all those leading into Ethiopia?”
“Right now only this one. The point of concern is localized to this area. People should not be alarmed. This is nothing more than a precaution.”
“Very good and thank you,” Reaper said. “Captain Injil, is there anything you would like to say to your family who may be watching this soon?”
Injil grabbed the microphone and proceeded to say hello to his mother, father, four brothers, two sisters, seven aunts, five uncles, grandmother, pastor, favorite teacher from school, girl next door who had rejected him, the village baker, his commanding officer, the Kenyan people, and finally mankind as a whole.
“Thank you very much,” Reaper said to the beaming man. “Would you mind if we walk around and get a little footage of the camp? You are obviously doing a really amazing job here and I think our viewers should see it.”
Captain Injil hesitated for a few seconds, but when Bunny smiled and winked at him, he nodded.
They walked around the camp and confirmed that the crossing was closed, but didn’t see trucks lined up on the Ethiopian side trying to get into Kenya. A few nervous Ethiopian customs police peered back at them from across the border.
“Let’s go there,” said Reaper pointing to a tent with a multitude of antennas protruding from the top.
They walked into the dim tent without asking permission and found two men sitting at a table with headphones on taking notes. Only one of them noticed them and he pulled off his headset.
“You cannot be in here,” he said in English. “No civilians allowed.”
“It’s okay,” said Reaper, nudging Bunny. “We are from International News and Captain Injil gave us express permission to come here and to talk to whomever we wished. He said that the Kenyan Army has nothing to hide and to let him know personally if anyone was not cooperating with us.”
“Oh,” said the man. “Journalists?” Bunny walked over to look at his equipment, leaning over and giving him a good look at her cleavage.
“Yes. Can you start by telling me what it is you do here?”
The man tore his eyes from Bunny and turned to his partner for help, but the other man stayed engrossed in what he was listening to. “We send and receive radio signals.”
“So you communicate among various elements of the Kenyan army?” asked Reaper.
The man nodded.
Reaper smiled winningly. “From my limited experience, communications are out there for anyone to gather and listen in on. With such a huge host of the Ethiopian army nearby, I imagine you are hearing all sorts of things from across the border.”
“Why, yes,” the man said. “Troops reports, movements, that sort of thing.”
“Captain Injil said that within a few days this whole situation would be resolved. He credited you and the information you gathered for that knowledge. He also said we should get the details from you. What can you tell us?”
The man again turned to his partner for help, but the other man seemed oblivious beneath his headset. “We’ve been monitoring the Ethiopian military channels. There has been a larger degree of traffic than normal the last few days. This traffic indicates the Ethiopians are planning a final assault on the mountain.”
“Don’t forget about the bombers,” said the other man, finally noticing Bunny and taking his headset off. “Messages back and forth to Addis Ababa about air strikes. I’d say those Edens are about to be cooked.”
Reaper looked at the map on the wall. “So the Edens are here? And we’re right here?” She pointed at several places on the map while she memorized the locations of the Kenyan army and which border crossings nearby remained unguarded. All the while, Bunny strutted around within their view.
When she’d gotten all the information she could, Reaper thanked both men, and left the tent to rejoin her “camera crew” waiting outside.
“Back to the truck,” she told them tensely. “Keep smiling and act like you’re filming.” They walked down the road past the line of waiting vehicles and piled into theirs.
“Did you get what you needed?” asked Shortfuse.
“Yes I did. I think it’s time we switched to Plan B.”
“Plan B?” asked Bunny. “I didn’t think we even had a Plan A.”
Reaper gave her a reproachful look, and then leaned up to Hanif. “We’re going to need to stay a few days. The story is going to take longer to cover than I anticipated. You can drop us off here.”
“I can wait,” the young man answered.
“No need,” Reaper insisted. “Give us a good phone number for you and we can call if we need to be picked up. We might end up traveling north through Ethiopia anyway.”
“What about your truck?” Hanif patted the dashboard.
“Why don’t we loan it to you for the time being? If we haven’t called in a month, it’s yours.”
“Then I will stay for three days,” said Hanif as they climbed out of the van and put on their luggage packs.
“That’s fair,” Reaper replied, actually wanting the young man out of her hair.
Then again, there’s an off chance he might be useful, she thought.
“Pack everything you need in your rucks, people,” she said. “From here on, we’re humping it. Leave anything you don’t want to carry.” The team hastened to follow her instructions. She broke out an MRE and ate it quickly to fortify her for the march to come.
Fifteen minutes later, they waved to Hanif as he drove away with the radio cranked up loud enough to hurt.
“Nice kid,” said Bunny, looking a bit wistful.
“Keep your head in the game, blondie,” Reaper snapped.
“Sorry. Seemed like he was the only halfway normal guy I’ve met in the last two weeks.”
“Hey, I’m normal, dude!” Tarzan protested.
Reaper snorted and turned to the rest. “Listen up, people. Time is ticking. We need to get to the other side of the border fast. The Ethiopians are planning to give these Edens the final solution soon.”
“How are we getting across?” asked Crash. “We won’t be able to sneak by these boys.”
“There’s a donkey trail that leads west along the border, crossing it a couple miles from here. It turns north and runs right by the foot of Mega Mountain. And anyone straggling gets left behind,” Reaper said, looking at Hound Dog. “So keep up, unless you want to become a permanent resident.”
They slipped out into the bush at a point far from the border crossing, watched only by a couple of the many truckers. In less than a mile they had picked up the trail, passing a man and a boy driving a small herd of goats. From her briefings on the area, Reaper knew that many such people ignored borders, regarding them as irrelevant.
All ten were in superb physical condition, so they qu
ickly crossed into Ethiopia and made good time. Once night began to fall, Reaper had the team break out their weapons and carry them openly, along with the night vision gear and tactical radio headsets. “We’re getting close,” she said. “Livewire, what’s the latest?”
Checking the satphone for messages, he replied, “We’re still a go.”
Reaper nodded. “All right. That means the back door is still open. All we have to do is find it, link up with the Edens, and lead them out.”
“Piece of cake, Boss,” Shortfuse said with a grin.
Hawkeye shot the other man a glare. “In war, everything is simple, but the simplest things are difficult.”
Chapter 28
“What do you mean, they didn’t go for it?” Cassandra asked, her voice showing stress.
Geoffrey looked around the hotel bar at the eyes turning their way. He put a hand on her arm. “The government thought it was too much to ask. They said no.”
Cassandra brushed his hand off. “They can’t say no.”
“UN Council support, and a secret military alliance too?” asked Geoffrey. “You really can’t expect the United Kingdom to consent to those terms in order to save non-British citizens in a country far away. I understand how much this means to you, but it’s just not going to happen.”
“You told me it was possible. You dangled that carrot in front of my face when you were trying to recruit me. Either you were lying to me then or you’re lying to me now. Which is it?”
“Neither,” said Geoffrey. “I miscalculated. It happens. They thought the mission too risky and the chance of negative blowback too high.”
“Did Richard support it?” Cassandra asked.
“King Richard,” corrected Geoffrey. “And yes, he did. Just as he said he would.”
“I want to talk to him.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Geoffrey shook his head. “You do not simply demand to talk to the King.”
“He told me he had the influence and could help. I want to remind him of what is at stake.”
“You’re taking this too personally. I’m sure he tried. There are many factors here that we may not be aware of.”
“He evidently didn’t try hard enough,” said Cassandra, crossing her arms. “You can’t tell me that a man like King Richard couldn’t find a way to make this happen.”
Geoffrey shook his head sadly. “Cassandra. You don’t understand our form of government. The King is an influential figurehead, but if he pushes too hard, the elected government will simply dig in their heels on principle. It’s the Prime Minister that makes foreign policy, not the monarch. Let it go, dear.”
She stared at him silently for a long moment. “Then the deal is off.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that King Richard’s mother and brother can find someplace else to live.”
“Keep your voice down,” Geoffrey hissed, and then spoke quietly but emphatically. “The state funeral was last week! She’s been infected with the Eden virus and is already growing young. She’s on a plane to Sydney right now!”
Cassandra slipped out her phone and pulled up a number. When it answered, she said, “Yes, it’s me. That nice lady I asked you to take care of...yeah. Don’t let her in the country. Put her right back on the plane.”
“Stop it!” said Geoffrey, his eyes wide. “Don’t you know what could happen to her? Where is she supposed to go?”
“Frankly, I don’t give a shit right now what happens to one woman, no matter how beloved by the people,” said Cassandra. “Not in comparison to the thousands at risk in Ethiopia. Deal’s off…unless you hold up your end. Personally, I don’t think you’ve been trying hard enough either.”
Geoffrey stared at her for a moment. “Damn it.” He reached his hand out toward her. “Give me a few minutes to make a call.”
Cassandra tapped out a text. “I’m telling them I’ll call them back. If they don’t hear from me, she’ll be just another refugee without a country.” She looked up from the phone. “Her plane lands in three hours.”
“Don’t you bloody move,” Geoffrey said, and then walked to the elevators.
Cassandra ordered an appetizer and an Irish coffee, listening to the light jazz music while she waited.
After an hour, Geoffrey came back to the bar. He looked like he’d fallen off a racehorse in full gallop. “You’ve got a call in ten minutes. I have a secure line set up in my room.”
“Let’s go, then,” said Cassandra, rising.
They rode to the tenth floor and walked down the hall to Geoffrey’s suite. Inside, Cassandra saw a briefcase on the desk with an open laptop inside, hooked to a black box with three steady green lights on top.
Geoffrey typed something, and then stood, offering the seat to her. They sat silently and awkwardly. Cassandra realized she might eventually come to regret what she was doing – after all, she couldn’t expect much cordiality from now on – but she didn’t have time for second thoughts.
There came a ringing sound, and then the screen glowed to life. A gray-haired woman appeared. “Hello. Miss Johnstone?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I will transfer you to the His Majesty momentarily. Please rise and remain on your feet until he offers for you to sit.”
“Are you serious?” asked Cassandra. “I’m halfway across the world.”
The woman looked confused by the objection.
“She’s serious,” said Geoffrey.
Cassandra stood and tilted the camera back so that it still showed her face on the screen. Within seconds, the display went black, and then the side of King Richard’s face appeared. He turned to her. “Ah, Miss Johnstone. The last time I met I was under the impression that we would not speak directly to each other again.”
“Your Majesty, so was I,” said Cassandra.
“I hear that you are blackmailing me,” he said casually, but with a hint of steel. “For me, that’s a novel experience.”
“I wouldn’t call it blackmail,” said Cassandra. “We entered into an agreement. Your government violated the terms, therefore I am released from my part. Aren’t you supposed to ask me to sit?”
“Please sit.” Richard frowned at her. “I told you I would do my best, and I have. Unfortunately, monarchy is not what it used to be, and many things are out of my hands.”
“Interesting. I distinctly remember you getting angry with me when I implied there might be limits to your influence.”
“There are things that you do not understand. The Kenyans are asking for too much. It’s not in the interests of my people to encourage them to accept such an arrangement.”
“I thought you just told me you did your best,” Cassandra said. “Now you’re telling me that you couldn’t do quite so well because it wasn’t in your best interest. Which is it?”
“It is out of my control,” he responded his lips tight. “You must face reality.”
“Amazing,” said Cassandra sitting back in her chair. “A couple days on the throne and already you’ve gone from a soldier to a politician. What was it we discussed last time? Duty and honor?”
“I have not forgotten,” Richard said. “I have a greater duty than you can imagine – to my own people.”
“What about honor then? Honoring your agreements so thousands of innocents don’t get slaughtered because you’re playing politics.”
“I do not have to justify my decisions to you. This call was a courtesy. I now see it was a mistake.”
“You’re right,” said Cassandra. “I didn’t call to get a justification from you anyway. This is blackmail, remember? I get your help on this, and I mean the never-say-die, who-dares-wins help you would expect from an SAS commando, or you can park that dear old mum of yours somewhere else. I might even accidentally let slip who she is, say, to an interested reporter? Can you imagine what your rabid tabloids would print? I imagine that would test the limits of your influence too.”
“
You are making a mistake, Miss Johnstone,” Richard said severely.
“Maybe,” she answered, “but if it saves those Edens, I’ll gladly make it. So you now have to decide: is your mother, not to mention your brother – and avoiding the scandal – worth it?”
Richard stared silently at her for long moments. “Someone will be in touch in the next hour,” he finally said. “I will not soon forget this conversation.”
Cassandra was just composing something conciliatory to say when the call ended.
She exhaled deeply. “Well, I think that went well.” She looked around for Geoffrey, but didn’t see him.
Eventually he came out of the bathroom, his face wet and pale, a towel around his neck. “I think I need a drink,” he said. “How about you?”
Chapter 29
Skull had to admit that he was physically attracted to the woman who sat across from him. They had already told him that Husnia was in her seventies, but all the age did was give her twenty-something face and body an air of gravitas that made her much more interesting.
It occurred to him that, as Edens grew more numerous, being young in years would turn from an asset into a liability as rejuvenated cougars and suave older men ate the new generation’s lunches, sexually speaking.
Zinabu had just finished telling Husnia and Misgana their story. It had taken some degree of faith for them to believe that the FC would send non-Edens to help them, but finally they had seemed to accept the tale.
“We’re grateful for the food,” said Husnia. “The Lord knows we need it, but I’m not sure I understand. How exactly are we going to get out of here?”
“That’s still a little fuzzy,” said Skull. “I need to talk to our folks in the rear. They should be able to steer us in the right direction.”
“That may be wise, for we are running out of time.”
Skull excused himself while Zinabu continued to talk with the two. He took his secure laptop and satellite antenna from his rucksack. Setting it all up, he saw that the batteries were nearly dead, so he pulled out the hand charger.
Eden's Exodus (Plague Wars Series Book 3) Page 20