Terrorist: Three Book Boxed Set

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Terrorist: Three Book Boxed Set Page 77

by Phillip Strang


  ‘They’ve either become Islamists or else they are copycatting their style. They’ll be an execution next.’ Phil immediately realised it was an unnecessary flippant comment.

  ‘They won’t do that. They want the money. We will pay for damaged goods. Destroyed, there is no value.’ She knew the psychology of the gangsters she was dealing with. She had experienced jihadists in Afghanistan before and these were not jihadists. They were purely gangsters. ‘They’re tough negotiators, not willing to prolong the discussions and then accept a meagre return for their effort.’

  ‘Meagre?’ said Phil. ‘At this rate, Exxon will pay the two million for each one.’

  ‘They probably will. It’s unusual to find a ransom situation where there is no compromise. The only issue for us is to bring them back alive after the money is paid.’

  ‘That’s how Harry and I see it,’ Phil said. ‘We are close to locating where they are being held. Once the money is paid and they start celebrating, we move in. To us, it’s a rescue mission. Drunk and they start waving guns and threatening our people. We cannot guarantee they will return alive even if the money is paid.’

  ‘Never trust anyone involved in this business. It’s up to you and Harry to get them out,’ she said.

  ‘We have the informant at Exxon’s office in Port Harcourt, name of Emmanuel. You can’t help but feel some sympathy – he only wanted to pay his wife’s medical bills,’ Phil said.

  ‘This is no time for sympathy,’ replied Yanny firmly. ‘Extract what we need.’

  ‘It’s just unfortunate that an innocent pawn, desperate for money, will no longer be able to help his family. No doubt he’ll end up in one of the local prisons for an extended period.’

  ‘We all feel for these people, but we’re professionals tasked to do a job. Our inner beliefs and morality are suspended for the duration of the rescue operation.’

  ‘Agreed, we know our responsibilities,’ said Phil. ‘Anyway, he is singing like a bird. No roughing up necessary.’

  Harry – or, more correctly, Lord Harry Warburton – the third member of the team, was grilling the informant.

  ‘Emmanuel, you realise the trouble you are in?’

  ‘I did it for my family, my wife.’

  ‘We know. The only way to help them now is to give us what we require. Where are they holding the hostages? If you help, it will go better for you.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ the frightened man replied. ‘I only gave some information about who was on the platform.’

  ‘Did you tell them about the senior people there?’

  ‘I may have mentioned it.’

  ‘He’s only playing you for a fool,’ Victor interjected. Sturdy, burly, and ex-Nigerian Army, he had spent time in the north of the country fighting Boko Haram. He knew how to get the truth. ‘I’ll beat the answers out of him.’ He stood in front of the man being grilled in an intimidating manner.

  ‘You’re going to tell us all you know. Aren’t you, Emmanuel?’ Harry said. He and Victor were playing the good guy/bad guy routine.

  ‘Yes.’ Emmanuel was close to vomiting with fear.

  ‘That’s better,’ said Victor. ‘Let’s start at the beginning. Why did they contact you?’

  ‘I grew up as a child with their leader.’

  ‘That’s better. What’s his name?’

  ‘He’ll kill me if I tell you.’

  ‘If you don’t tell us what we want, and quickly, we’ll release you back on the street, and put the word out that you were most helpful. Is that what you want?’ Victor enjoyed playing the villain.

  ‘Don’t do that, I will be dead within the day. His name is Soboma Tom.’

  ‘Then tell us all that you know,’ said Harry. ‘Some will be killed, maybe even your Soboma Tom. That’s your best protection. You help us, we help you.’

  ‘What about my wife? If I go to prison, they will kill me in there. She will have no one to support her.’

  ‘We can only help you if you help us. It may be possible to keep you out of prison if you assist us to get the hostages back.’

  ‘We’re wasting time here,’ said Victor. ‘Let me soften him up.’

  ‘He’s going to tell us all he knows,’ Harry replied confidently. ‘Let’s get back to Soboma Tom.’

  ‘We were children in the slums, played together. Later, when we were around ten years of age, he joined a street gang. I joined a church group. He found crime, I found God. I saw him occasionally, always flaunting his power and the whore women he attracted. I knew he remembered me from our childhood. Sometimes, he would acknowledge me with a cursory glance. Apart from that, we had no contact until about three weeks ago.’

  ‘Victor, what do you know about Soboma Tom?’ Harry asked.

  ‘He’s bad news. Smart, streetwise, sees himself as a freedom fighter for his people. Some years ago he may have been. His talk of redistributing the riches of the oil companies to help the poor made sense to me at the time. Not much of the money goes their way now.’

  ‘Where does the money come from?’

  ‘Street crime, extortion, robbery, most of it comes from the oil companies.’

  ‘Oil companies, I’ve never heard of this guy?’

  ‘The word on the street is that he has been involved in a number of hostage situations. He is well educated. If anyone threatens, or attempts to expose him, they end up dead in the gutter. We should not underestimate him. The police and the politicians are almost certainly in his pocket.’

  It was time to raise the heat on Emmanuel, a frightened and lowly paid employee of the oil company.

  ‘Where are the hostages?’ Harry intensified his questioning.

  ‘I don’t know. I only gave the information.’

  ‘When he approached you, where was it? What did he ask?’

  ‘I was on my way home. A four-wheel drive stopped, I was bundled into the back seat and taken to his compound. They tried to ply me with whisky and women. They thought I would appreciate their life, but I do not. I am a servant of the Lord. They do Satan’s work.’

  ‘Carry on,’ said Harry. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Soboma asked me to keep him informed about the platform out at sea. I said that I would not. I stated that I was loyal to my company and my promotion opportunities were excellent.’

  ‘How did he react?’

  ‘He laughed, said I was a fool and they were only using me for cheap labour. He knew about my wife needing a hospital, my financial situation.’

  ‘When did he offer you money?’

  ‘It was soon after. He offered me ten thousand dollars. Five immediately and the rest once I had told him the best time to attack and when the most senior people were on board.’

  ‘What did you do? What did you say?’

  ‘I agreed. I had no option. He threatened my family. Besides, I could give my wife the medical care that she needed. It caused me great anguish, and I prayed to God for forgiveness in the days that followed.’

  ‘What was God going to do for you?’ said Victor in a derogatory manner. ‘You sold out.’

  ‘The Lord had been tempted by the devil and resisted, I did not. I had failed my religion. I was hoping for forgiveness. It did not come. I am a sinner.’

  ‘Where are the hostages?’ Harry asked again.

  ‘I don’t know. I told you before, I only provided the information.’

  ‘Did you overhear anything, no matter how small? Remember, until Soboma Tom and his group are captured, you and your family are not safe.’

  ‘I did hear something. If you make a move on them, they will know it was me. If they cannot get to me, they will go after my wife and children. I cannot tell you, I cannot risk my family.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Harry. ‘Let me talk to my superiors and see what we can do.’

  One hour later, Yanny, Phil and Harry were in communication.

  ‘We need to do a deal with this guy,’ said Harry. ‘Exxon has to absolve him of all crimes and guarantee to look af
ter his wife and children.’ The others agreed. It was for Steve to speak with Sam Anders.

  ***

  ‘Sam, we need your agreement on a sensitive issue.’ Steve opened what was to be an awkward conversation.

  ‘Tell me what you want.’

  ‘The informant we found in your office in Port Harcourt. We want your company to grant him amnesty.’

  ‘Hell! You know we can’t do that,’ Sam exclaimed, clearly annoyed. ‘This guy’s been indirectly responsible for a number of deaths, as well as the capture of six people who are being returned to us in pieces.’

  ‘We have no option. He knows the location where the hostages are being held. We need him on our side.’

  ‘Can’t you beat it out of him? How does he know the location?’

  ‘He overheard it mentioned. He is dead if he gives us the location. We need to give him and his family protection as well.’

  ‘You’re asking too much. How do you know the information is accurate?’

  ‘We don’t, but it’s our only lead. We’ll check before we give him a full pardon.’

  ‘I have no option, do I?’ said Sam. ‘Give him what he wants, but don’t expect me to offer him congratulations for seeing sense.’

  ‘What about your senior management?’

  ‘They’ll have to accept. Besides, they have given me full authority to do whatever is necessary. Just get our people back.’

  It was later in the day when Steve got back to the team; he was still in Iraq. ‘Okay, Exxon have agreed. Give him what he wants. Just make sure his family are safe, and his wife has access to decent medical facilities. Phil and Harry, check out the location as soon as he gives it to you. Yanny, keep up the discussions with the kidnappers.’

  ‘Okay, you have a deal,’ said Harry, turning to Emmanuel. ‘Where are the hostages?’

  ‘I need it in writing.’

  ‘You’re asking too much. We’ll put it in writing and ensure your family are safe.’

  ‘You’re too soft,’ Victor added, staring at Emmanuel. He just wanted to beat it out of him. His cousin had been a guard on the platform and he was now dead.

  ‘There is a small community by the name of Esynma in Bomadi,’ said Emmanuel. ‘Soboma Tom has a compound there, isolated, about fifteen kilometres out from the village.’

  ‘How do you know so much?’ Harry asked. ‘You must be involved more than you are telling us.’

  ‘I know Bomadi, and besides, people on the street know no more than you do. They hear it, but they do not inform. They know the penalty if they do.’

  ‘We’ll check,’ said Victor. ‘If it is correct, we keep to our agreement.’

  ‘It is true. I swear it in the name of God.’

  ***

  Yanny updated Steve as to the current situation. ‘I’ve agreed to pay the money in the next three days at a location in Port Harcourt. They have chosen a busy shopping centre with an easy getaway for them. They will hand over the hostages down in the delta at a location to be given once they are in receipt of the money.’

  ‘We can’t trust them,’ replied Steve. ‘They may decide to kill them anyway. Harry and Phil are in location close to the compound in Bomadi.’

  ‘Then we adopt our standard practice. We pay the money and give the kidnappers at Bomadi a couple of hours. As soon as they relax and start drinking, we move in quick and fast.’

  ‘The money is unimportant. Exxon will just have to write it off as a business expense,’ Steve said.

  Negotiations had been progressing for some weeks, and there had been no concessions from the kidnappers. It was two million American dollars for each of the six hostages. Each time, Yanny had become adamant for a concession, they sent an earlobe or a finger. Exxon and Steve’s team realised it would have to be the full amount, and agreed. It was up to Yanny to seal the deal and agree to the time for the transfer.

  ‘They’re going to give us the full money,’ Soboma Tom announced to his lieutenants.

  ‘When will we get the money?’

  ‘Set it up for three days from now.’

  ‘What about the hostages?’

  ‘Get the money first. After that, I don’t care what happens.’

  He had a private plane ready to take him out of the country with the majority of the cash in his possession. What happened to the hostages after that was of no concern to him.

  ‘The money is to be handed over Friday, three o’clock, in Port Harcourt.’ Yanny said over the phone to Phil and Harry, who were closing in on the hostages in the delta.

  ‘Give us notice of payment,’ Harry said.

  They were both keen to commence with the hostage rescue. Two white men in the area would raise an immediate alarm. They had spent the last few days keeping out of sight, holed up in a derelict barge ten kilometres downstream from the kidnappers’ compound. Dirty, smelly, with no light or the possibility of warm food, they were both feeling miserable.

  They were not alone in the area, as six of Counter Insurgencies’ best locals were close by. They were able to blend in and their time, if not pleasurable, was at least endurable. Surveillance indicated at least eight men guarding the hostages, heavily armed and, judging by their behaviour, well trained.

  ‘These guys are a cut above the normal riff-raff we have to deal with,’ Phil observed.

  ‘We need to be careful here,’ replied Harry. ‘If they sense us coming, they will shoot the hostages.’

  ‘As soon as the money is handed over, we’ll move in closer to the compound. Stand to, about fifty metres out. We wait the two hours and then go over the wall. Any random shooting by the hostage takers, then we will just have to risk it, go straight in.’

  ‘The helicopter comes in as soon as the area is secured,’ added Harry. ‘The Nigerian military will come in at full strength soon after.’

  ‘I hope the military keep to their agreement,’ Phil said.

  ‘They should be okay. They can take the glory afterwards. Failure and they will be blamed. Success and they will have no hesitation to announce their leadership in the rescue.’

  The Friday payment of the ransom proved to be a test run. Soboma’s people wanted to check that Steve and the team were playing by the rules, no additional heavies waiting to pounce. Counter Insurgencies had made it clear, Exxon had agreed, the money was expendable and there was to be no attempt to capture those picking up the ransom or tailing them. The release of the hostages was of primary importance; nothing was to interfere with that operation.

  ‘Any issues with the test run?’ Soboma asked.

  ‘We saw nothing unusual,’ Stanley, one of his lieutenants said.

  ‘Good, then set it up for tomorrow, Saturday. Same time, change the location.’

  With the new date confirmed, Yanny informed Phil and Harry. ‘Saturday, same time, different location. They were testing us the first time. Prepare yourselves for a rescue.’

  ‘Yanny, we’ll be ready,’ replied Phil. ‘Harry smells a bit off after so many days here.’

  Phil did not know, very few did, but he was making a joke at the expense of the heir apparent of an English Earldom. Harry had studied at Eton, the educational establishment of choice for male heirs to the British throne, a true blue-blood. However, he disdained the privileged upbringing, the rigid class structure of his country of birth. To all, he was Harry, the African poacher hunter. How a service rendered to Charles the Second, in reclaiming the throne after Oliver Cromwell in the early seventeenth century, entitled his family to an Earldom was beyond his comprehension. He had not done anything that set himself superior to his fellow man, nor had his father. His father revelled in the title. He did not.

  His talents to the team had not come from any military training with an elite group of the British military. It had come from the African bush, in the pursuit of poachers aiming to slaughter elephants and rhinoceros to satisfy the insatiable demands of the Chinese medicine practitioners and the devotees of anything ivory.

  His childhood, a
part from frequent absences at foreboding and austere boarding schools, was a large, exquisite Georgian mansion in the North of England.

  Steve Case knew the story from their initial meeting. Harry had brushed aside his impending elevation to an Earldom and the considerable fortune he would inherit on the death of the current Earl, his father due to a lifetime of overindulgence and numerous, increasingly younger women.

  ‘I’m sending you to a game park close to Victoria Falls in Zambia,’ his father, the Earl Hampden, said. ‘I have a substantial financial interest in the park. They will look after you well. It will do you good.’

  It was not the truth, but Harry was delighted. The truth was that, now in his late teens, and no longer at boarding school, the young and virile Harry posed a threat. The mistresses were getting younger and the Earl was getting older.

  He formed an immediate love of Africa, the people, the wildlife. Some years later, when he was twenty-seven, he gained a Masters in Wildlife Management from the University of Pretoria in South Africa. In his fifth year on the continent, he had visited the Odzala-Kokoua Park in the Republic of Congo, where ivory poachers were active.

  Money had never been an issue, as he stilled received a substantial allowance from the Earldom. He had gone out with a local tracker, Vianney Moupele, who had found where the poachers were heading. On the way, they had seen a slaughtered elephant. It had been butchered, shot and had two substantial spears sticking out of its side. The tusks sawn off, close to the skull.

  ‘Why do they do this?’ Harry asked of Vianney.

  ‘They do it because they are hungry. They need money to look after their families.’

  ‘Do they not feel for the suffering of the animals?’ Harry had been long enough in Africa to know the answer; he just wanted to hear it from the tracker.

  ‘They feel nothing. That is for people with money and food in their belly.’ It was an indirect reference to him; he chose not to comment.

  Harry could not defy the logic. There was only one solution: remove the poachers by any means possible. He vowed to have no compunction to dispatching them with a bullet.

  Vianney, wiry and jet-black, his skin dried hard by the incessant sun led the way. The three poachers were camped in a clearing at the side of a tributary of the Mambili River. They were loading their ill-gotten gains into a canoe, a small outboard at the stern.

 

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