by Tom Grace
“I volunteered for duty here. I am now on the general’s staff.”
“I’m sure he’s glad to have you.”
“If war comes to Dutannuru here, then this is where I must be.”
“Spoken like a patriot, Major,” Egan said warmly. “And speaking of war, we spotted some boats on the east end of the lake heading this way.”
“Safolese patrol boats. We are monitoring them as well as troop movements along the border. The helicopter that brought us here,” Opoku said to the reporters, “has been redeployed. We have confirmed reports that Cudjoe ordered a test of chemical munitions on a small village in northern Safo earlier today. Many were killed.”
“Shouldn’t these two be evacuated?” Egan asked.
“Like you, they volunteered to be here and the helicopter was required elsewhere. Cudjoe may use chemical shells against us. We have protective suits, helmets, and body armor for you all.”
“Cheery thought,” Turcott offered.
“Thank you,” Egan added, grateful for the consideration.
“I also bring a request from the general. He asks if you would address his men.”
“Why me?” Egan asked, taken aback, “I’m just a civilian, and a foreigner to boot.”
“You were part of the First Council,” Opoku countered. “Your role in creating Dutannuru is well known. Words you wrote are taught to our children. The general heard you speak at the First Council. He believes you are a wise and honest man. With war so close, he asks that you speak to his soldiers. In your words, he believes, they will find truth and courage.”
“I would be honored,” Egan said.
“Then all of you, please follow me to the command post.”
Opoku’s arm seemed in constant motion, saluting the junior officers and enlisted men they encountered while crossing the compound. Niki and Turcott both noted that the men accorded Egan equal respect.
“The general asks that you speak at nineteen hundred hours,” Opoku said as they reached the command post. “He apologizes for making his request on such short notice.”
“Unnecessary. I just need a little time to collect my thoughts.”
“Of course,” Opoku said. “Use the duty office. You will speak from there.”
“May we join you?” Niki asked.
“Sure,” Egan answered.
Opoku left Egan with Niki and Turcott in the duty office. He provided them with cold sodas and promised to return when it was closer to the time of his address to the troops.
“So just what are you?” Turcott asked Egan as he settled onto a small couch beside Niki. “One of Dutannuru’s Founding Fathers?”
“More like a founding friend of the family,” Egan replied as he sat down behind the desk. “I advised President Mensah when the council drafted the country’s constitution.”
“He’s too modest,” Niki protested. “The name of Ross Egan is honored in Dutannuru.”
“How well do you know Mensah?” Turcott asked.
“He was godfather to my son.”
“I see.”
Niki reviewed the images stored in her camera’s memory. Most were of young soldiers preparing to shoulder the burden of war.
How many would pay the price of this war in maimed bodies and lost lives? she wondered. What would be the cost?
Niki reached her photographs of the moonrise over the lake. Turcott glanced at the beautiful images.
“You were right,” Turcott admitted. “We should’ve come here for the scenery.”
“That and the people,” Egan offered.
“Are they really all that different?”
“No, but that’s the point. Where it really matters, the people of Dutannuru are the same as those back in the States or anywhere else in the world. They all want to live peaceful and productive lives.”
“Then why is Dutannuru going to war?” Turcott asked.
“Dutannuru is not going to war,” Egan answered. “War is coming to Dutannuru.”
“But can’t they negotiate with Cudjoe?” Turcott pressed further. “End this thing before it starts?”
“Can you negotiate with a burglar as he’s kicking in your door?” Egan countered.
“‘All war represents a failure of diplomacy,’” Turcott replied.
“Bet you learned that Tony Benn chestnut in some political theory class,” Egan said with a chuckle. “Was your prof a tweedy Marxist?”
“Progressive feminist, actually.”
“Same difference.”
“Diplomacy is a tactic of war,” Turcott offered.
“‘Supreme excellence consists of breaking an enemy’s resistance without fighting.’”
“Sun Tzu—I see you’re up on the classics,” Egan said. “Hitler skillfully employed both diplomacy and blitzkrieg in the pursuit of his ambitions. This is true throughout history.”
“So tell me, what is war?” Turcott asked sharply.
“Are you familiar with the Ten Commandments?” Egan asked.
“Of course, but how do they relate to war?”
“They provide context. Oh, and for reference, I’m using the variation where only the first three commandments are religious and the rest are civil.”
Turcott nodded that he understood and Egan continued.
“Offensive wars are based on breaking the Tenth, Seventh, and Fifth Commandments, in that order. It starts when the leadership of one nation covets the wealth or property of another, breaking the Tenth. Acting on this desire with the use or threat of force is theft, breaking the Seventh. The aggressor breaks the Fifth when it uses lethal force to take what it desires. Cudjoe’s actions follow this pattern. Now, there can be pretext and antagonism between rival nations, but when you distill an offensive war down to its essence, you always find a thief trying to steal something.”
“Wasn’t the US invasion of Iraq an offensive war?” Turcott asked.
“No, it was an offensive action taken in the context of a larger war, like D-Day. A better analogy might be the use of atomic bombs on Japan—both were hotly debated actions taken with the sole intent of protecting American lives. The United States didn’t start the Second World War, but it did launch a number of offensive actions to end it and restore the peace. Along the same lines, Israel has launched what some have called unprovoked attacks on its neighbors in order to prevent those neighbors from acquiring nuclear weapons. These were in fact offensive actions in an ongoing defensive war that has existed since Israel’s founding. That is the right of the aggrieved nation.” Egan set his elbows on the desk and leaned forward. “Should Safo attack, Dutannuru must drive them back and accept nothing less than unconditional surrender.”
“Do you see why the general asked him to speak?” Niki asked Turcott. “Now, will you please give the man a moment to prepare his thoughts.”
Turcott conceded the point and returned to his article. Egan gave Niki a grateful wink, then turned pensive. As she uploaded her images to the press pool back in the nation’s capital, she found her eyes drawn to Egan’s face. He was lost in thought, oblivious to her observation. The years, she decided, had been kind to him.
Turcott, too, wondered what kind of man he’d stumbled upon in a place he didn’t know existed just a few days ago.
CHAPTER THREE
“In this land, God created the ancestors of all mankind.”
Egan’s clear tenor voice resonated from the two-way radios carried by the soldiers defending the power plant. He wore a wireless headset and spoke from behind the desk. Adashi and Turcott sat silently on the couch. Opoku stood in the doorway.
“And in that act of creation, he endowed us all with certain rights that no one can take from us. Greater minds than mine summarized the most sacred of these rights as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
“A decade ago, the people of this land paid a terrible price to reclaim their patrimony. As was their right, they threw off the burden of a failed and corrupt government that had bankrupted the nation. As was
their right, they rejected the tyrant who murdered his way to power and made war on those who resisted him.”
“Those brave and hopeful rebels, who sacrificed all for the promise of providing a better world for themselves and their descendants, knew that terrible civil war could only end for them in victory or in death. There could be no surrender. They would accept no chains. The people of this land chose to live free or die.”
“And many did die to restore the freedoms now enjoyed by the people of Dutannuru. We owe a debt of honor to those patriots, a blessed obligation to defend that which they redeemed with their blood.”
“The memory of that civil war remains fresh among those who survived it; all but the first generation born in liberty bear the scars of that conflict. That war left one people divided into two nations. Those who toiled in the warm light of liberty took what was left them and prospered. Their kin, blessed with far greater natural resources, struggle to survive as the fruits of their labor are squandered for the glorification of a madman. The only difference between the people of these two nations is on which side of the Umoja River they stand.”
“This unnatural division is the work left undone, a task we had hoped to complete in peace but are now forced to undertake in war. The army massing on our border is not the enemy—they are our family, and they are tormented by a great devil. What comes is a war of two nations, but one people. Dutannuru does not seek this war, but will fight it if we must. We will fight for all that we hold dear, and not just to protect our freedom, but to win back theirs. The only way this war can end is with one nation.”
“For all Dutannuru—Victory or Death!”
“Listen to them,” Opoku said proudly.
The defenders of the Umoja power plant responded to Egan’s address with a roar of approval. Like the troops at Trenton and the Alamo, the defenders’ courage found voice in chanting the famous motto—Victory or Death.
“Quite a speech,” Turcott said flatly as he made some notes.
“It was a beautiful speech,” Niki countered as she snapped another photo of Egan seated behind the desk.
Egan waved her off and removed the headset. “I just told them the truth.”
“That is why I asked you to address my men,” a voice boomed from outside the room.
Opoku stepped aside and cleared the way for General Darko. A squat man with the build of a water buffalo, he crossed the room beaming and extended a beefy hand to Egan.
“You touched their hearts,” Darko said. “Your words are stronger than any fear of the unknown. I thank you.”
Egan stood and shook the general’s hand. “I’m glad to help.”
“We expect the attack will come soon,” Darko said, turning serious. “I am going to visit with my men. Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
“May we join you?” Niki asked, camera in hand.
The general nodded and led the way out with Opoku and the others in tow.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next hours passed quickly as Egan and Darko spoke with small groups of men positioned around the power plant. The soldiers, who would likely take the brunt of the expected attack, seemed both nervous and resolute, knowing their fight was in the service of a greater good.
“You’ve attracted quite a following,” Turcott said to Egan as they walked toward the next group of soldiers.
“Must be my fifteen minutes of fame.”
Between stops, Opoku remained at General Darko’s side, quietly relaying orders from an incoming report to his commanding officer.
“That is very interesting,” Darko said, turning to face Egan. “The government is broadcasting your speech nationally.”
“You’re kidding,” Egan replied.
“I am not. President Mensah liked what you said very much and he wished all of Dutannuru to hear your words.”
After Opoku’s two-way squawked, he switched the radio to send-receive mode. He wore an earpiece and throat mike under his helmet, so what little they heard of the conversation was one-sided jargon.
“What is it, Opoku?” Darko asked on completion of the report.
“Sir,” Opoku replied, “activity along the border has increased significantly within the last twenty minutes.”
“Have they crossed?” Darko asked.
“No, and the reports we’re getting are confusing. There doesn’t appear to be any coordination …” Opoku paused as another report came in. “Sir, a Safolese helicopter is hovering at the border requesting permission to approach and land here for the purpose of parley.”
“This is very odd,” Darko mused. “Do we have a visual on this helicopter?”
“Yes, sir. It is unescorted and running with full lights on.”
“Is it carrying any weapons or external tanks?”
Opoku relayed the question and waited a moment for a reply.
“Our forward observer reports the helicopter is a large military transport,” Opoku said. “No weapons are visible.”
“Is there any further information on the chemical weapon they tested? How it was delivered?”
“No, sir.”
Darko considered all that he’d heard for a moment.
“If they wish to talk, I will let them talk. Permission granted. Tell the Safolese that we will provide an armed escort to accompany them from the border to this facility. They are to fly in formation with our escort, and they are to keep their communications open and maintain contact. Inform them that their escort is under orders to fire on them should they deviate from their instructions. All troops are to remain on full alert.”
“Yes, sir.”
Opoku moved off to begin issuing orders to the groups affected by the inbound helicopter.
“Might this be a ruse?” Niki asked Egan.
“Darko’s not buying it,” Egan replied. “Cudjoe pulled a fake parley once during the last war and killed a lot of people.”
Egan, Niki, and Turcott followed the general back to the command post to await the arrival of the Safolese representative. Opoku kept pace with the general, feeding the commanding officer a steady stream of updates.
The Safolese helicopter and its escort of two Dutannuru attack helicopters followed a course that routed them downwind of the power plant on their approach. The huge Mil Mi-26P dwarfed its escorts, causing Egan to wonder if the helipad could accommodate the aircraft’s forty-meter length. It hovered over the pad as floodlights washed it in search of weapons. Satisfied that the helicopter posed no visible threat, Darko granted permission for it to land.
The helicopter descended slowly, the pilot aware of the weapons trained on the aircraft should he make any suspicious moves. He landed it lightly and powered down the twin Lotarev turboshaft engines. The escort helicopters remained aloft, hovering in position to act if necessary. Slowly, the long rotors wound to a stop. As the dust settled, the emblem near the nose of the aircraft became clearly visible.
“Is that Cudjoe’s helicopter?” Darko asked.
“Intel confirms that the markings match those of the helicopter assigned to transporting the Safolese head of state,” Opoku reported.
“This makes no sense at all,” Egan said absently.
“How so?” Niki asked, still snapping photos of the idle aircraft.
“There is no reason to believe Cudjoe is inside that helicopter, and I can’t imagine his handpicked flight crew would decide to defect on the eve of war.”
“Maybe Cudjoe is in there and he just wants to talk,” Turcott said.
“God, I hope not,” Egan shot back. “That windbag gives marathon speeches at the drop of a hat. It’s possible he’s sent an emissary to offer us a chance to surrender the power plant now and walk away without a bloodbath. But I just can’t believe he thinks that Dutannuru would simply roll over.”
The helicopter’s forward door opened and the pilot descended the steps. He was in a flight suit with his helmet tucked under one arm and the other clearly visible. The holster for his sidearm was emp
ty. He took a few steps away from the door and stopped, squinting in the bright light at the command post.
Darko motioned for Opoku and a pair of armed soldiers to accompany him and the four strode toward the pilot. On seeing the rank insignia on Darko’s uniform, the pilot snapped to attention and saluted.
“At ease,” Darko replied as he returned the salute. “Why are you here, Captain?”
Egan could not hear the exchange but found it odd when the general and Opoku both turned in his direction. A moment later, one of the soldiers jogged over.
“Sir,” the soldier said, “the general requests your presence.”
Egan nodded and followed the soldier onto the helipad. Without asking permission, Niki impetuously joined him.
“You sure you want to do this?” Egan asked in a half whisper.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
Egan arched an eyebrow at her but offered no reply as they neared the men standing on the helipad.
“This is the man who made the speech?” the pilot asked, surprised to see a Caucasian face.
“Yes,” Darko replied firmly.
“Very well.” The pilot cocked his head toward the helicopter and nodded.
A moment later, the rear door of the helicopter opened and three men in military uniforms slowly filed out. Like the pilot, they were unarmed and held their hands up at shoulder level as they spaced themselves alongside the helicopter. The braids on their uniforms indicated the men were part of an elite unit.
Niki gasped, but continued taking pictures when a fourth man emerged from the helicopter into the light. He was tall and thin and dressed like the others except that his uniform was disheveled and bloodstained. He walked purposefully toward them, arms hanging loosely from his sides, but unlike the others he was armed. In his right hand, he carried a machete, its blade blackened with dried blood. A small plastic cooler hung from his left.
The soldiers accompanying Darko trained their rifles on the man, who halted a safe distance from the group. He looked directly at Egan.
“Are you the man who made the speech, the man who said that we are one people?”