Operation Pink Elephant

by Stephen Dando-Collins

  ‘Apparently, RAT first captured several of Lucky’s rangers. The rebel group threatened to kill the rangers unless Lucky surrendered himself to them.’

  ‘Lucky voluntarily went with these RAT rebels in order to save his men’s lives,’ said Charlie, nodding to himself.

  ‘It’s the sort of thing he’d do, that’s for sure,’ said Baz.

  ‘Where’s Lucky now, Captain?’ Ben asked.

  ‘We have no idea,’ Liberty admitted. ‘The Australian and US governments are using all their technical know-how to try to locate the RAT and Lucky, but the hostages could be in any one of half-a-dozen countries by the time you get over there.’

  ‘So, you’re sending us over to rescue Lucky?’ said Charlie.

  ‘That is correct. Including yourselves, a GRRR team of a dozen men has been summoned. As there is a low likelihood of IEDs in the territory where you’ll be operating, I felt it would only be necessary to have one EDD on this mission. Otherwise, it will be a standard GRRR deployment. The remaining members of your team are on their way to Western Australia from all parts of the world. You will all have your final briefing at Pearce Base in twenty-four hours’ time.’

  ‘How do we get to Tanzania, ma’am?’ Ben asked. He looked at Caesar, who sat attentively with his head to one side while listening to the familiar voice of Liberty Lee. Ben was hoping the transport method would be the least stressful for his canine partner.

  ‘That will be explained to you at the full briefing tomorrow,’ said Liberty. ‘I will tell you more then. Good night.’ The satellite transmission ended, sending the LED screen to black.

  Ben, Charlie and Baz looked at each other. ‘Who’d have thought we’d have to save Lucky?’ said Baz, voicing their thoughts.

  ‘He spent his career saving other people’s lives,’ said Ben.

  ‘What a reversal of roles,’ Major Jinko remarked.

  ‘Roger to that, sir,’ Charlie agreed.

  While Ben waited for the rest of the GRRR team to arrive, he took the opportunity to Skype his family. Caesar sat beside him with a curious look on his face.

  ‘Here we are,’ came Nan’s voice, as her, Josh and Maddie’s faces filled the screen. The three of them were sitting side by side on the sofa of 3 Kokoda Crescent, Holsworthy.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ said Josh.

  ‘Hello, Daddy. Hello, Caesar,’ said Maddie. ‘Where are you?’

  Caesar put his paws on Ben’s lap and looked at the screen, his head cocked to one side. His tail wagged furiously with delight at hearing the voices of the Fulton family. The tilt of his head told of his confusion at not being able to pick up their scents.

  ‘Hi, guys,’ Ben responded. ‘Caesar is so excited to see you.’

  ‘I can see him! I can see him!’ said Maddie. She jumped up and put her face right up to the camera. ‘Hello, Caesar! It’s me, Maddie! Give Maddie a kiss, Caesar.’

  Caesar, like most labradors and unlike breeds such as German shepherds, rarely barked. Instead, he let out a little whimper of frustration at not being able to smell Maddie. He licked the computer screen.

  Ben chuckled and gently pulled Caesar down to sit beside him. ‘Caesar kissed you on the screen, Maddie,’ he advised, bringing a gleeful giggle from his daughter.

  ‘Sit back down, Maddie,’ said Nan, reeling her in with a tug of her skirt.

  ‘What’s happening, Dad?’ Josh asked.

  ‘Caesar and I will be heading off on an overseas op tomorrow, son,’ said Ben. ‘I thought we’d catch up with you now, before we go.’

  ‘How long will you be away?’ Josh sounded a little unhappy that his father would soon be out of the country again. He was accustomed to his dad going off on top-secret missions, sometimes for months at a time, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss Ben.

  ‘Yes, how long, Daddy?’ echoed Maddie.

  ‘Not long. A week, maybe.’

  Josh immediately perked up. ‘A week? Is that all?’

  ‘A week’s not long,’ said Maddie, sounding equally pleased. ‘Where are you and Caesar going this time?’

  ‘You know I’m not allowed to tell you that, princess.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s all top secret, Maddie,’ said Josh, chiding his little sister. ‘Like always.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Ben,’ said Nan. ‘Maddie and Josh have kept bigger secrets than this before.’

  Ben sighed. ‘I know, I know.’

  ‘At least give us a clue?’ Maddie implored.

  ‘You don’t have to tell us exactly where,’ Nan added. ‘We’ve known when you’ve been in Afghanistan and places like that.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Ben replied. ‘All I can say is that Caesar and I will probably be seeing some really big animals with large floppy ears.’

  ‘Elephants!’ Josh exclaimed. ‘You’re going to Africa!’

  ‘I never told you a thing,’ Ben said with a smile.

  Maddie gasped. ‘Elephants! Africa? You and Caesar could save all the elephants from being poached!’

  ‘Ah.’ Ben realised he had said too much. ‘I can’t really –’

  ‘Daddy, you’ve got to promise to save all the elephants, and come home in a week.’

  Ben smiled broadly. ‘Caesar and I will see what we can do.’

  Twenty-four hours after the Australian contingent arrived at Pearce Base, the remaining members of the GRRR team assembled in the base’s briefing room. For Caesar and Ben, this was a welcome reunion with men they’d operated with before, most memorably in Afghanistan when they’d rescued the UN Secretary-General from Taliban insurgents. That operation had been the catalyst for the creation of GRRR.

  The first to approach the Australian EDD and his handler was Sergeant Angus Bruce, a Royal Marine Commando. ‘There he is!’ the Scotsman exclaimed with a broad grin on his face. ‘The wee super-sniffing machine himself!’ Dropping to one knee, he ruffled Caesar’s neck and patted his flank, setting the labrador’s tail wagging with delight.

  ‘How are you doing, Angus?’ Bensaid with a smile.

  ‘Fit as the proverbial fiddle, Ben,’ said Angus. ‘But I’m sorry that it’s rescuing Lucky Mertz that’s brought us back together again.’

  ‘No one would be sorrier than Lucky. He was always helping others. I think he’d be highly embarrassed by the predicament he’s found himself in now.’

  ‘Aye, but we have to treat this mission as if we didn’t know Lucky. We can’t let our personal feelings cloud our judgement about the job we have to do.’

  ‘You’re right about that, man!’ exclaimed Corporal Chris Banner, a tall, powerfully built West Indian member of Britain’s Special Boat Service, as he joined them. ‘We have to be professional about this.’ Grinning widely, he gave Ben’s hand a firm shake. ‘Good to see you, Ben.’ He looked down at Caesar. ‘And you too, Caesar.’

  Men from other elite Special Forces units around the world were soon greeting Ben and Caesar. Ben shook hands with the three American members on the team – Sergeant Duke Hazard, Sergeant Tim McHenry and Corporal Brian Cisco. Then there was Sergeant Jean-Claude Lyon from the French Foreign Legion, German Army Special Forces medic Willy Wolf, and Toushi Harada, a computer expert with a top-secret unit of the Japanese Self-Defence Force.

  As was the Japanese custom, Toushi was a very formal sort of person. Instead of shaking hands, he bowed to Ben and Caesar. He then produced a shiny packet from his pocket. ‘I bring gift for my GRRR comrade Caesar,’ he said, smiling. ‘All the way from Tokyo.’ Ripping the plastic wrapping, he took out a biscuit. The aroma from the packet immediately caught Caesar’s attention, and when Toushi held up the biscuit, Caesar’s eyes followed it as if he were hypnotised. ‘Finest Japanese dog cracker,’ Toushi said. ‘Got fish and rice and all things nice. Okay for me to give to Caesar, Ben? All Japanese dogs love these crackers.’

  Ben smiled. ‘Sure, Toushi. If he’ll take it.’

  Toushi held the cracker out to Caesar. In response, Caesar looked at Ben for permission.

  Ben nodded. ‘It�
��s okay, mate.’

  Caesar sniffed the biscuit, then opened his mouth and politely took hold of it. In three crunches, it was gone.

  ‘There, you see! He like very much,’ Toushi said with pleasure. ‘Here, you take, for Caesar.’ He gave the remainder of the packet to Ben. ‘I ask my family to send many more.’

  Last of all to renew his acquaintance with Ben and Caesar was Corporal Casper Mortenson. From the Danish Army’s Hunter Corps, Casper was an expert underwater diver. He shook his head as he took Ben’s hand. ‘Lucky Mertz was not so lucky after all, my friend,’ he said, ‘being captured by those African rebels.’

  ‘Lucky was doing the right thing by his men, as he always has,’ said Ben. ‘Another man may not have given himself up to the RAT the way he did, to prevent his rangers from being killed.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Casper replied with a shrug.

  ‘Atten-shun!’ Major Jinko called from the front of the room. Every man came stiffly to attention as Major General Mike Jones strode to join Jinko.

  ‘At ease, gentlemen,’ said the general, commander of all Australian Special Forces units. ‘Be seated, please.’

  The twelve men of the GRRR team quickly found their seats. When Ben let go of his leash, Caesar knew that he was permitted to relax. He eased down in front of Ben, laying his chin on his extended legs. Every now and then Ben would see Caesar’s ears rise or twitch as the labrador heard familiar names and terms. When Caesar’s own name was mentioned, his head would come up or his eyebrows would ruffle.

  General Jones now addressed the group. ‘The Australian Government has acceded to a request from the UN to support a GRRR mission in East Africa,’ he began. ‘Before Major Jinko begins the briefing, there is someone in New York who wants a word with you all.’

  Liberty Lee and the Secretary-General of the United Nations, Dr Park Chun Ho, appeared on the screen behind him. ‘Hello, and thank you for coming, gentlemen,’ Dr Park said with a smile. Tall, slim and dressed in a suit, he was an elegant-looking man with an air of serenity about him. ‘You are about to embark on a very important mission – the rescue of your former colleague. Your primary concern must be the safe retrieval of Ranger Mertz and that of any other rangers being held against their will.’

  Liberty Lee interjected at this point. ‘We have reports that five other rangers – all local men – are being held with Lucky.’

  ‘Let me say to you, gentlemen, off the record,’ the secretary-general continued, ‘if you are able to capture the leader of the Revolutionary Army of Tanzania – one Abraham Zuba, also known as Colonel Pink Eye – you will be doing the people of Africa a great service. Many of Zuba’s so-called soldiers are mere children, some as young as ten years of age. He kidnaps them from their villages and presses them into service in his army, which he finances by selling elephant tusks to foreign ivory merchants. If you can apprehend Zuba while rescuing Ranger Mertz, RAT will disintegrate and those boy soldiers can return to their families. At the same time, a major threat to the elephant population of East Africa will be substantially reduced. Good luck with your mission. I know you will perform to your usual high standard. I shall return you to Captain Lee.’

  Liberty Lee now took up the briefing. ‘The UN has received approval from the governments of most of the countries bordering Tanzania for GRRR to operate on their soil, as long as we liaise with those governments. US spy satellites at this very moment have their lenses focused on the areas where we suspect Zuba and the RAT are hiding out. By the time you get over there, we hope to have pinpointed where Lucky is being held. I’ll update you with the latest intel once the mission is underway. Good luck, GRRR.’

  ‘Yes, good luck,’ the secretary-general echoed, before the screen went black.

  ‘There you have your orders,’ said General Jones. ‘Extract Lucky Mertz, and if in the process of doing so you just happen to capture Abraham Zuba, that will be a bonus.’

  ‘But be aware that, under international law, we have no authority to apprehend Zuba anywhere other than in Tanzania,’ Major Jinko quickly added.

  ‘A minor technicality, sir,’ said Sergeant Hazard, bringing chuckles from the others.

  ‘Any questions?’ said the general.

  ‘Sir,’ Charlie called, ‘do we have a codename for the mission?’

  General Jones nodded. ‘We do, Sergeant. Your mission will be known as Operation Pink Elephant.’

  This brought smiles and nods from around the room.

  ‘Pretty appropriate,’ said Baz, ‘considering this bloke Colonel Pink Eye is killing all those elephants over there.’

  ‘Major Jinko will now brief you on what lies ahead,’ said the general.

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ Jinko turned to the screen, which now came to life with an image of an African man wearing military fatigues and a red beret, cradling an AK-47 assault rifle. Thick wraparound sunglasses concealed his eyes. There was a faint smile on his lips. ‘This is the only photograph we have of Abraham Zuba. Note his white hair. In Tanzania, the locals call him Colonel Pink Eye because Zuba has albinism.’

  The men in the room looked at him blankly.

  ‘You want to tell us what that is, Major?’ said Hazard.

  ‘Albinism is a congenital complaint that affects the pigmentation of one’s skin and hair,’ Jinko replied. ‘It also affects the eyes of the individual.’

  ‘Okay. You mean he’s an albino?’ said Hazard.

  Jinko grimaced. ‘Albino is not a term that the medical community likes to use these days.’

  ‘You know what? That doesn’t stop Zuba being an albino,’ Hazard came back with a shrug. ‘He’s either an albino or he ain’t.’

  ‘Well, he does suffer from albinism,’ the major continued. ‘Sub-Saharan Africa has the highest incidence of albinism in the world, and it’s very prevalent in Tanzania.’

  ‘In practical terms, sir,’ said Ben, ‘what does that mean as far as Zuba is concerned? What should we be aware of?’

  ‘As a man with albinism, Zuba is very sensitive to sunlight,’ Jinko answered. ‘He sunburns easily, and he has to wear dark glasses during the day. According to reports from Tanzania, he prefers to operate at night. And some say his poor eyesight renders him unable to read.’

  ‘This revolutionary army of his, sir,’ said Charlie. ‘What are we up against? How many men does this Abraham Zuba command?’

  ‘We know almost nothing about the Revolutionary Army of Tanzania. We know they are well armed with automatic weapons. They have access to four-wheel drive vehicles, so can move quickly from location to location. As for numbers, estimates of the size of his army range from fifty men to five hundred. When I say “men”, two-thirds of them are boys.’

  ‘Do they have a fixed base, sir?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Not that we’re aware of,’ Jinko replied. ‘They seem to move around from one temporary camp to another, or they stay in villages and terrorise the locals.’

  ‘How do they move the ivory out of the country, sir?’ Angus Bruce enquired. ‘Maybe we can track them down via the ivory merchants.’

  Jinko smiled wryly. ‘That’s certainly an avenue we’ve begun to explore. We understand they send the ivory out of the country in shipping containers, buried in sacks of agricultural produce such as soya beans. But how they get the ivory from the plains to the ports is a mystery to us at this point.’

  ‘The UN has asked Interpol to look into that,’ General Jones interjected.

  ‘And we hope to have all the intel sorted out for you by the time you land on African soil,’ added Major Jinko.

  ‘How do we get to Tanzania, sir?’ Ben asked.

  ‘That’s an interesting problem,’ Jinko replied. ‘We need to insert you people by heelo, as close as possible to the rebel location. The Tanzanian Air Force Command doesn’t possess large military heelos – just a couple of Bell Jet Rangers – and its heelo pilots don’t have special ops training, so we can’t use them.’

  ‘Nor do we have the time to ship our own heavy-
lift heelos over to Tanzania from here,’ said General Jones. ‘We could fly a couple of Black Hawks over in C-17s, but it would take up to a week to get them operational over there – and we don’t have a week. The RAT is unpredictable. They could turn nasty on Lucky at any time.’

  ‘We need our people on the ground over there pronto!’ Hazard declared.

  ‘Correct, Sergeant,’ Major Jinko agreed. ‘And when we looked at the alternatives, we had a bit of luck.’ He pointed the remote control at the screen, and a picture of a massive grey warship appeared.

  ‘Is that an aircraft carrier?’ asked Jean-Claude, frowning at the image. The ship had a large flat deck and high sides.

  ‘That, Corporal Lyon, is HMAS Canberra, the newest addition to the Royal Australian Navy’s fleet,’ said Jinko. ‘She’s an LHD – which stands for landing, helicopter, dock. Basically, she’s a very large, very sophisticated helicopter carrier. At 27,500 tonnes, she’s the largest ship ever to serve in Australia’s navy. She’s brand new, and right now, she’s in the Indian Ocean on her working-up trials.’

  ‘As we speak,’ said General Jones, ‘Canberra is steaming at full speed for the coast of East Africa, to play a part in Operation Pink Elephant. Within twenty-four hours, she will be within heelo range of Tanzania.’

  ‘Canberra is carrying heelos, sir?’ Charlie asked.

  Jinko nodded. ‘On a full deployment, she can carry eighteen large heelos on her hangar deck, and another six or eight on the flight deck. Her working-up cruise will actually take her to Florida in the US by the end of the year, to collect two squadrons of brand-new Romeo heelos and bring them back to Australia. But she’s already carrying a complement of Seahawks – similar to the Black Hawk and perfectly suitable for insertion missions. More importantly, their pilots have experience inserting Navy clearance diver teams on special ops, so you can be confident they know what they’re doing when they insert you in the Tanzanian bushlands.’

  ‘How do we get aboard Canberra, sir?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Airdrop from a Herc,’ Jinko replied. He broke into a grin. ‘Assuming you can all parachute onto a flight deck two hundred metres by thirty-two metres.’