Operation Pink Elephant

by Stephen Dando-Collins

  ‘Copy that.’ Charlie’s reply came through the earpiece in Ben’s right ear.

  Ben brought his compact Steyr assault rifle to his shoulder. It had a telescopic sight on top, through which he surveyed the ruins. If he spotted anyone in there taking aim at Caesar, he would not hesitate to take them out to protect his four-legged partner.

  With his nose down, sniffing the ground for traces of explosives, Caesar continued to trot forward. When he came to a mud wall that had been eroded to half its original height by years of weathering, he stopped. On the wall in front of him, with one foot on the ground and an AK-47 in his lap, sat a boy soldier. A smile came across the boy’s face. Calling back into the ruins, he came to his feet and approached Caesar.

  Half-a-dozen more boy soldiers emerged from the ruins and hurried over, delighted and surprised by the sight of the labrador. Caesar eased his rear end to the ground, having picked up the scent of explosive chemicals on them. The boys gathered around and began to pat him. When one boy cautiously held out his hand, Caesar licked it. Giggling, the boy withdrew his hand, and the others laughed.

  One of the older soldiers appeared at the mission’s ruined gateway and, frowning, called to the others. As he spoke, one of the boys noticed the emblem of the rising sun on Caesar’s fine metal collar and the words ‘Australian Army’. The boy knew enough English to realise what this meant, and jumped back as if he had seen a ghost. ‘This is a military dog!’ he cried.

  At that moment, the older soldier at the gate spotted movement a hundred metres beyond the group of boys. With fear suddenly etched on his face, he bellowed a frantic warning. Charlie, Angus, Chris and Casper, who had all crept closer to the mission, now rose up and ran toward the ruins. Seeing the RAT soldier bring his rifle to his shoulder, Ben pulled the trigger of his Steyr. The soldier let go of his rifle and dropped like a stone.

  Baz, lying in cover, fired a warning burst from his Minimi into the air, over the heads of the boys with Caesar. Two of them threw themselves to the ground. The boy who had been the first to approach Caesar dropped his rifle and fearfully thrust his hands in the air. Two others threw away their weapons and ran – one went left, the other went right, heading for open country in panic. The remaining pair fled back into the ruins, still clutching their assault rifles.

  Ben whistled to Caesar. It was one of his ‘recall’ whistles, this one meaning ‘come back quickly’. Caesar immediately turned in a half-jump and bounded back toward Ben. By the time Caesar had returned to Ben at the dead tree, the four running GRRR men had reached the low wall. Casper was left in charge of the three boys who had remained in the open. On one knee, he kept his rifle trained on them as they lay with their hands behind their heads. From this position, he was also able to keep an eye on the soldier brought down by Ben, who was lying on his back, wounded, in the gateway.

  Baz came loping up to join his comrades at the wall. Ben and Caesar were the last to do the same. As they did, bullets from several AK-47s flew overhead, fired at them from within the mission ruins. Charlie peeked around the corner of the broken wall, just in time to see a youth with an RPG launcher standing in the mission courtyard twenty metres away and aiming right at him. There was a whoosh! A tail of flame shot out from the launcher, and something small and dark emerged from its barrel.

  ‘RPG!’ Charlie yelled, ducking fast.

  The rocket-propelled grenade flew over the men to detonate on the plain with a whoomp! In an instant, Charlie was up, carbine at his shoulder, ready to take out the soldier. But the soldier had dropped the RPG launcher and was running for cover, abandoning his weapon in the middle of the courtyard. Charlie held his fire. In the distance, from the rear of the mission, came the sound of more shooting. Duke Hazard’s group had launched their attack from the north.

  Hazard yanked a stun grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, then rolled the grenade around the corner and dropped to one knee, hugging the mud wall for cover. Seconds later, there was a flash of light, accompanied by a whump! Special Forces referred to stun grenades as ‘flash-bangs’, for they produced a blinding flash and a thunderclap of a bang. In an instant, Hazard was on his feet and rounding the corner, M-16 at the ready. He found a youth on his knees, head down, with his hands to his ears. The grenade’s flash had dazzled the boy while the soundwaves had temporarily deafened him. The youth’s AK-47 lay on the ground. Hazard kicked the weapon away, well out of reach.

  ‘Take care of this guy,’ Hazard instructed Brian Cisco, who had come up directly behind him.

  ‘Sure thing.’ The signaller grasped the disoriented youth by the collar, then dragged him back around the corner.

  Ahead, Hazard could see steps leading down into the ground. Training his weapon on a closed wooden door at the bottom of the steps, he glanced back to see Lyon, McHenry and Wolf rounding the corner to join him. Hazard pointed to the stairs and waved for Jean-Claude to take the lead. Lyon brushed past him and descended warily. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the Frenchman looked up at Hazard and the others. They were waiting at the top, keeping to one side to avoid any bullets which might come flying through the door.

  ‘Go ahead, Lyon,’ Hazard called in a hushed voice. ‘Try the door.’

  Carefully, Jean-Claude reached for the doorhandle. Turning it, he then pushed the door hard and flattened himself against the earth wall that lined the stairway. The door swung inwards. There was silence. No guns opened up from inside. And then a plaintive voice called from the darkness beyond the door. ‘Don’t shoot, boys. It is me, Toushi Harada.’

  Hazard and McHenry trotted down the steps to join Lyon. Hazard patted the Frenchman on the shoulder. First Lyon, then Hazard and McHenry, dashed into the room with their weapons levelled. In the darkness, Lyon tripped over something on the floor.

  ‘It is me!’ wailed Toushi. ‘It is Toushi Harada.’

  Hazard whipped out his torch and shone it on the floor. Toushi was lying on his stomach with his arms taped behind his back. ‘Are you okay?’ asked Hazard, dropping to one knee beside his comrade.

  ‘Yes, I am okay,’ Toushi responded. ‘Please untie me.’

  Jean-Claude and McHenry shone their torches around the room. There was no one else there. One torch lit up an extinguished candle on the bench where Zuba had been sitting not long before. The other beam fell upon a backpack lying on the dirt floor with newspapers strewn around it.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Hazard. He swiftly put down his torch and shouldered his M-16, then reached for the knife on his belt.

  ‘I keep up pretence of being ivory merchant as long as I could,’ explained Toushi. ‘But Zuba became suspicious when I could not say how I would ship ivory from this country. They opened my backpack –’

  ‘And found nothing but newspapers,’ said Hazard. He slit the tape binding Toushi’s wrists.

  ‘They had just finished tying me up when there was sound of gunfire. Zuba and another called Chawinga ran from room and left me here.’

  ‘We must have missed them by seconds!’ Hazard growled. ‘Where the heck have they gone?’

  Charlie and Angus vaulted the perimeter wall and ran across the courtyard toward the two Land Rovers parked beside the ruins. Behind them, Ben pointed to the wall and said to Caesar, ‘Jump, mate! Jump!’

  Caesar bounded over the wall, with Ben right behind him. For a moment, Caesar paused, waiting for Ben, and then, tail wagging, he ran at Ben’s side. Back at the wall, Casper continued to watch over the young prisoners, and Baz and Chris kept their weapons trained on the compound.

  The barrel of another RPG suddenly appeared around a corner and fired at the three running men and bounding dog. The rocket-propelled grenade flew by Charlie and Angus and hit one of the Land Rovers, which erupted in flames. Charlie, Angus and Ben all hit the ground, and Caesar dropped onto his stomach. The RPG launcher had disappeared from sight.

  ‘Baz, RPG at your eleven o’clock!’ Charlie yelled. ‘He’s probably reloading.’

  ‘I’m on it!’
Baz calmly sighted down his Minimi at the corner from where the RPG had fired.

  Seconds passed before the barrel of the RPG reappear ed around the corner. It was aimed in the direction of the men on the ground. But Baz was ready and waiting. A short burst from his Minimi hit the barrel of the RPG launcher, knocking it from its operator’s hands. As soon as the launcher dropped, Charlie and Angus were on their feet and running. Around the corner they dashed. Finding the RPG operator on his knees, they took him captive.

  Duke Hazard’s voice came over all their personal radios. ‘Sinker is secured. I say again, Sinker is secured, unharmed. But Bullseye is on the loose.’

  From the distance came the buzzing sounds of trail bikes.

  ‘They’re getting away on bikes!’ said Charlie. He pressed the ‘talk’ button on his personal radio. ‘Chris, come to me. Now!’

  When the big West Indian came loping up, Charlie told him to get Major Jinko on the radio. Banner made contact with Jinko, then handed Charlie the handset.

  ‘Papa, from Oscar Zulu One,’ said Charlie. ‘Receiving? Over.’

  ‘Loud and clear, Oscar Zulu One,’ came the response from Canberra.

  ‘Papa, we have secured Sinker, but Bullseye is on the run. Do you have a visual? Over.’

  ‘Affirmative, Oscar Zulu One. Bluey is tracking five trail bikes with five riders and two passengers, heading north. Over.’

  ‘Copy that, Papa. Over.’

  ‘Suggest you use the hostiles’ wheels to pursue once you’ve secured the compound. I’ll keep you posted on the mobiles’ position. Over.’

  ‘Roger to that. Out.’ Looking around the corner, Charlie saw that not only was the first Land Rover engulfed in fire, the flames had spread to the tyres and canopy of the second vehicle. Neither Land Rover would be of use to the team.

  The two GRRR groups linked up and methodically searched the ruined mission for their targets. They took nineteen RAT prisoners, including the wounded man at the gate. He was treated by combat medic Willy, who advised Charlie that the man’s wound was not life-threatening. But neither Zuba nor his deputy Chawinga were among the prisoners.

  As their search of the ruins was being completed, Ben and Caesar came across a felt hat lying upside down in the dust. ‘Akubra?’ said Ben, stooping to pick it up.

  Caesar, always curious, sniffed the hat in Ben’s hand, then began to wag his tail furiously. Looking up at Ben, he whimpered, as if wanting to tell him something.

  Ben knew what he meant. ‘Come on, mate,’ he said. ‘Let’s show Charlie what we found.’

  Ben and Caesar quickly located Charlie inside the ruins, talking to Hazard and Lieutenant Roy.

  Seeing them approach, Charlie sensed they were onto something. ‘What’ve you found, Ben?’

  ‘This.’ Ben waved the hat in his hand, and Caesar jumped, trying to grab it between his teeth. ‘Steady on, mate,’ Ben responded with a smile, holding the hat out of Caesar’s reach.

  ‘What’s got the dog so excited, Fulton?’ asked Hazard.

  ‘This hat,’ Ben replied. ‘It’s an akubra. An Australian hat.’

  ‘So, the dog’s patriotic?’

  Ben shook his head. ‘Lucky was wearing a hat just like this the last time that Josh, Maddie and I saw him, on screen. Caesar has picked up Lucky’s scent on this.’

  ‘I’ll be darned,’ said Hazard. ‘Is that possible? Could the dog remember Mertz’s scent?’

  ‘This is Caesar we’re talking about, Hazard. Not just any dog.’

  ‘I know, but …’

  ‘Caesar remembers all our scents. He’d be able to recognise the scent of all the members of the GRRR team.’

  ‘Does this mean that Lucky was here?’ Charlie pondered aloud.

  ‘Could be,’ said Ben. ‘Or one of Zuba’s men recently souvenired Lucky’s hat. The new owner’s scent would also be here, but not strong enough to mask Lucky’s. At least we know we’re close to Lucky.’

  ‘Okay, it’s time we tracked Lucky down,’ said Charlie. ‘With luck, those trail bikes will lead us right to him.’

  ‘A pity those Land Rovers are toast,’ said Hazard. ‘We could’ve used them.’

  ‘Zuba’s men left behind seven trail bikes. That’s enough to carry us all if we travel light–except for Caesar.’

  ‘You mean that Caesar can’t ride a bike, not even as a pillion passenger?’ joked Hazard.

  ‘We need to commandeer ourselves a four-wheel drive,’ said Charlie, ignoring Hazard’s attempt at humour. He turned to Baz. ‘Mate, you, Chris and Sergeant Simma take a couple of bikes back to the highway and find us a four-wheel drive, pronto.’

  ‘A pleasure to oblige, oh mighty leader,’ said Baz. He was in good spirits, for he knew that they were close to finding his good friend Lucky, at last.

  Mr Omary Monson, his wife Mara and their four children were driving in their Toyota Landcruiser along the B3 on their way from Ushirombo to Mwanza when they came across three armed soldiers standing in the road. Mr Monson slowed the Toyota to a halt and worriedly watched as a sergeant of the Tanzanian Army came to his window.

  ‘What is the problem here, Sergeant?’ Mr Monson asked.

  ‘I am afraid we need you to hand over your vehicle, sir,’ said Sergeant Simma. ‘As a temporary measure. The vehicle will be returned to you in due course, with the grateful thanks of your grateful government. Please now all get out. This is a matter of national security.’

  ‘National security?’ said Mr Monson. ‘But what are my family and I supposed to do? You cannot leave us here in the middle of nowhere in the heat of the day.’

  ‘We’ll swap you, mate,’ said Baz, coming to join Simma. He nodded to the three trail bikes by the side of the road, which he, Chris and Simma had used to get here.

  ‘Bicycles?’ said Mr Monson, appalled by the very idea.

  ‘Trail bikes,’ corrected Baz. He looked at the four boys on the back seat of the Landcruiser. Two of them appeared to be in their early teens. ‘You and your boys can handle them, no problem. And your wife and the other two can hop on behind.’

  ‘I think it a very good deal, father,’ the eldest boy said enthusiastically. ‘I have always wanted a bike such as those.’

  ‘Be quiet, Zacharia!’ Mr Monson growled. He looked at Baz and Simma. ‘I do not wish to exchange my very expensive Toyota Landcruiser for three bicycles.’

  Baz’s eyes narrowed. ‘Mate, it wasn’t a request.’

  ‘I am sorry, sir,’ said Sergeant Simma apologetically, opening the driver’s door.

  But Baz wasn’t apologetic – his mate was in mortal danger. He patted his machinegun. ‘My friend Mr Minimi here says get out of the vehicle. Now!’

  Lucky arched his back in a long stretch, then, with his bound hands in front of him, he began to walk. He’d badgered the guards until they had agreed to let him and his rangers out of the herdsman’s hut for exercise. But because Zuba had only left four of his men to guard the prisoners when he took the remainder of his army south, those guards had only agreed to allow the prisoners out one at a time, to walk around the compound. In the late afternoon, Lucky was the last to be given a taste of exercise.

  With just four guards to contend with now, Lucky was thinking seriously of attempting to jump them and free his men and himself. Two of the four soldiers were the regular guards, Sirum and Tonkei, men in their twenties or thirties. The other two were new recruits, including Legeny, the boy who had told Lucky he wanted to go home to his mother. These two youngsters would not pose a problem as far as Lucky was concerned. But the regular guards were a tougher prospect, and Lucky wouldn’t put it past either of them to spray the hut with bullets and cut down his rangers if he tried anything out here in the open.

  If he were to keep his men safe, Lucky knew that he would have to plan carefully. While he walked, either Sirum or Tonkei would walk behind him, cradling his Kalashnikov. The other would stand outside the compound with his gun poking through a gap in the wall of branches and trained on Lucky.r />
  As Lucky walked around and around the oval compound, he studied it. The walls weren’t too high to be climbed. The soil underfoot was sandy and loose. One of the plans he was considering involved digging his way out of the hut. But he reckoned he could only do that successfully under the cover of night, when most of the guards were asleep and no one could see what he was doing. He decided that his best bet was to wait for nightfall before he set an escape plan in motion.

  But as Lucky walked, his heart sank. The sound of trail bikes reached his ears. Gradually, the buzzing grew louder, and Lucky cursed to himself. It sounded as if Zuba and the rest of his men were returning. Tonkei, the guard with him, heard the sound, too, and ordered Lucky back to the hut. Lucky had just reached the hut door when the compound’s wooden gate opened, and in walked Koinet and Captain Chawinga. Koinet was barefoot and unarmed, and Chawinga, his shotgun in one hand, was pushing Koinet along in front of him.

  ‘Throw this rotten fish back in with the others,’ Chawinga instructed Tonkei. ‘He is no soldier. When the bullets were flying, he was crying like a baby.’

  Lucky looked at Koinet. The embarrassed youth dropped his eyes to the ground. And then the pair of them were shoved into the herdsman’s hut and the door was locked behind them. Koinet was once more one of the prisoners.

  ‘Oscar Zulu One, from Papa. I have seven hostiles joining with several more hostiles at grid reference Tango Four. Over.’

  ‘Copy that, Papa. Tango Four,’ Charlie replied from the front seat of Mr Monson’s Landcruiser. Beside him, Baz was at the wheel. Ben, Caesar and other members of the GRRR team were packed into the back of the vehicle. The rest of the team, including Toushi, followed behind on the four trail bikes. ‘Are the hostiles still mobile? Over.’

  ‘Negative. They’ve halted at a small village. With luck, they’re planning to stay put for the night. Over.’