An Honourable Fake

by Terry Morgan

CHAPTER 15

  At the Pentagon Craig Donovan was met by an Army Sergeant and taken on a tortuous route via lifts and corridors that ended at a door that was already open. AFRICOM's Commander David Fernandez, tall, upright, serious-looking with short grey hair combed to one side stood waiting inside. He was in full uniform, white shirt, black tie, the left side of his chest covered in medals.

  Fernandez had commanded at every level. His decorations included the Defense Distinguished Service Medal, the Distinguished Service Medal, the Defense Superior Service Medal, the Legion of Merit, the Bronze Star Medal and numerous foreign awards from combat experience. Most of that had been in Afghanistan. Fernandez was highly respected in army ranks.

  Donovan saluted. "Sir."

  "OK if I call you Craig?"

  "Most people do, nowadays, sir."

  "Take a seat." Fernandez gestured to a chair set against a wide, wooden desk bare except for a phone. Fernandez sat in the high-backed swivel chair behind and put his hands, palms down, on the desk top. He looked at Donovan for perhaps five seconds. Then:

  "Last night," he said, "I delivered an update on Africa Command to the Senate Committee. My message was we've got our hands full. I gave them a list of thirty terrorist groups across Africa from the Libyan groups in the north to Al Shebaab in the east to the COK in the west - what some Senators still call Boko Haram. I even surprised them with the name of an unknown group in South Africa. Most Senators have never heard of any of them. That surprise you?"

  "No, sir."

  "Point is, not only are our hands full, Craig, but our hands are tied. They're tied by law, by US foreign policy and by budgets."

  Fernandez stood up, went to the window, looked up into the sky, saw nothing and turned. "You said something to CSM Steve Benyon in Stuttgart that got me interested. That's why I suggested we meet." He returned to his seat. "You know Gabriel Joshua."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Is that how you got the fix on the COK camp?"

  "Yes sir."

  "So how can he do it but the Joint Force can't?"

  "Because he's running his own operation. The place you know about with the British flag on the roof, sir."

  "He got permission to set that up?"

  "It was enough permission for Gabriel, sir."

  "We could easily flatten it of course." Fernandez's thin lipped and serious mouth twisted itself into what might have been a smile.

  "But action inside sovereign territory would not be permissible, sir."

  Fernandez nodded. "And who hit the airport in Ouagadougou?"

  "The same guy who runs Gabriel's operation, sir. Was the US Government pleased with that?"

  "It pleased the French but did nothing for their embarrassment." Fernandez paused, examining his hands and a wedding ring. "How well you know Gabriel?"

  "Still learning. I know he's as frustrated as hell that the US chooses to ignore him. If I was him I'd feel the same."

  "You got a problem with US defence policy in Africa?"

  Donovan thought about that. "Yes, sir," he said honestly. "I think there's a problem with a lot of long term Western defence policy. It's hard to detect anything clear-cut. React to this, react to that. We muddle through with no real plan because public opinion drags back incisive action. We sit and we watch. We get angry for a few days if a few white tourists get hit and then continue sitting on our arses. Meanwhile, displaced refugees from Africa and everywhere else on God's earth join up with the thousands of others who've already decided that a fresh start sounds the best option and migrate in their hundreds of thousands.

  "And no-one has a viable solution for stopping the spread of Islamic style fundamentalism because it breeds on poverty and lack of opportunity. Gabriel's been saying that for years and years and I agree.

  "Someone once wrote about Osama Bin Laden that killing al-Qaeda commanders was not enough. The US could chase fanatics to the gates of hell, he said, but to win it needed to destroy terrorist sanctuaries and defeat the insidious ideology.

  "But Gabriel goes much further than that. He says you've got to stop these guys signing up in the first place. You got to provide opportunities for them, a chance in life. It's what he talks about in every darned speech he makes.

  "And there's something else he's right about. The West is too damned scared to engage in case they die in combat. Not so the enemies. They actually rejoice in it. Gabriel's right when he says that the West talks about protecting its way of life but is no longer prepared to die for it. What sort of way of life is that?

  "That weakness in the West's psyche is precisely what Gabriel's strategy is trying to address. The West has gone soft and lacks leadership. That's what he says. And I agree.

  "Gabriel's not a military man, sir," he concluded. "His only aim is to find a way to address deep seated African problems. 'Shine a light ' he says. 'Point to the sunrise'. Did you ever watch any of his videos, sir?"

  Fernandez shook his head.

  "Watch them, sir, because Gabriel always starts with a list of causes and effects. The causes and effects list is long: Conflict, unemployment, underemployment, poor education, environmental destruction, overcrowding, resource depletion, increasing food and water shortages, civil conflict, ethnic tension, economic migration, mass migration, climate change."

  "So, what's on his list of solutions?"

  "Better education, especially for girls, and investment in new ways of running an economy. That's why he wants US support. And that's about as much as I know, sir. That's Gabriel's plan A."

  Fernandez had been sitting calmly, listening, nodding, both hands lying together on the desk. "Is there a Plan B?"

  To Craig Donovan it sounded like Fernandez had already heard something. "Seems like it, sir,"

  "What is it?"

  "The same as Plan A, sir, but he'll give up on the USA and try somewhere else. Meanwhile he's flying back to London with a whole pile of other problems to deal with, not least an arrest warrant."

  "I heard."

  There was silence for a while, both men eying each other, thinking. It was Donovan who broke it. "So, what's to be done about the COK camp, sir? Gabriel wants it obliterated."

  Fernandez sighed. "Frankly, Craig, nothing."

  "Even with the precise location?"

  "The answer's the same. We do nothing."

  "So, tell me, sir. Is the US unwilling to do anything at all for Gabriel?"

  Fernandez rose, stood behind his desk and glanced at his watch.

  "Listen, Craig, I got another meeting soon. All I'll say is this. We're watching and listening. There are some - what shall I say? - complicated security issues at stake here. Issues that Gabriel will not be aware of. Issues such as how best to destroy a group like the COK by means other than militarily."

  Fernandez, Donovan decided, was telling him something without actually spelling it out. Unsure what it was Donovan merely nodded. "I see, sir. Meanwhile, sir?"

  "Meanwhile, I'm not saying we're all against Gabriel's views. Some of us", he paused meaningfully, "Would like to see a radical change of strategy on the agenda. A lot of what Gabriel says makes sense although I think he grossly underestimates costs. But change is easier said than done. Politics gets in the way, funding costs the tax payer and the law is the law. But there are some very strong opinions emerging. That do you for now?"

  Donovan shrugged. "Can I tell, Gabriel?"

  "Sure, but make sure he understands there's no time scale."

  "That might not be good enough, sir."