Prelude To War: World War 3 (Steve Case Thriller Book 1)

by Phillip Strang

  In his new elevated position within the company, he now got to meet the main players in the various regions. Warlords, government ministers in the central and provincial governments, business leaders and, no doubt, the occasional Taliban. He would not know they were Taliban – or at least a Taliban sympathiser, and certainly they would not announce it. They were smart enough and pragmatic enough to keep it concealed. Some of the persons he met during this period would no doubt figure in the events of the next few years. Some would rise in influence, some would find their influence significantly diminished, some would be assassinated, and some would become incredibly wealthy.

  In Afghanistan, as in life, the names of those who would rise, who would fall, and who would die, were unknown. The die had not been cast as of yet, the Game had not commenced. Of course, if you had asked an Afghani, he would have replied that there is one that knows all.

  It was on his last trip down to Jalalabad that he met up with Abdul. He had some strong family connections down there. ‘I am going up into the hills, would you like to come?’

  ‘Sure, is it safe for me to go?’ Steve was a little concerned, but he was keen to go. It was not often that there was a chance to visit the hill tribes.

  ‘We will go in a couple of four wheel drives and adequate security, but as you will be the only Westerner in a group of local Afghanis, there will be no problems. On the contrary, they will be very hospitable. I don’t believe a Westerner has been up there for many years. You will be a curiosity, expect to be invited to tea with all the village elders that we meet.’

  The track up to the hills was torturous, and Steve ended up driving, his driver was not capable of handling such a tricky road. ‘We need to walk from here,’ Abdul stated after the road came to a conclusion. A stiff climb up tracks designed for man and donkey and the villages came into view. All the people they met were curious and immensely courteous as Abdul had stated. The Russians had strafed the valley below with helicopter gunships during their invasion, the Americans had not, and the fact that he was an American, never came into their consciousness.

  There was a wedding, and Steve made sure that he stayed out of sight, but they saw him, and he received an instant invite. He was embarrassed; he received more attention than the bridegroom. The bride was not seen, but the hundred or so men sitting at the side with their Kalashnikov’s were.

  Abdul explained the profusion of weapons. ‘If they fire weapons up here at any time other than a wedding, it is a fine of two hundred and fifty dollars, or their house is burnt down. It is tribal law, the only way to control the violence that would inevitably break out if it was not enforced. Up here, an argument or dispute is too often resolved by force. No one breaks this law; the penalties are too severe.’

  It was strange and unexpected to see people in one village with blonde hair, blue eyes and European features. ‘They are the Nuristani, ‘explained Abdul. ‘Some of them claim to be descended from Alexander the Great and his troops.’

  The following week Steve took the opportunity to visit Kandahar. He had always had a liking for Kandahar. Sure, for those with no knowledge of such parts of the world, it would have been seen an unusual choice. It was his favourite city in Afghanistan, a combination of ancient and modern history. Ancient, it was Alexander the Great who had founded it, and modern because of its association with the Taliban. It had been their centre of influence; it would be again very soon. Sitting on the edge of the Rigestan Desert, he had never been there, he had only seen it from the air, but it looked desolate and foreboding.

  ‘Latif, we never had a chance to visit Zor Shar. Do you think we could organise a visit in the next day or so?’ Steve felt that this may be his last opportunity to visit the ancient citadel that had been built by Alexander during the founding of Kandahar.

  ‘It may be possible. I may need to get some concession from those who could cause trouble first.’

  The following day, Latif, true to his word had managed to obtain permission. ‘I told them you were interested in the history of Kandahar, and that your reason for going there is purely for research. They agreed, but we will need to offer some money at the various checkpoints and villages as we pass through.’

  As they moved to the citadel, they passed a land mine clearance team. They gave the all clear to proceed. Further on, there was a remote village; it was thirty minutes before they could progress, the women had to be concealed first. Eventually, the Citadel was reached. It was immense, although very little remained. The ramparts were visible on one side but little else. Steve was profoundly moved to be able to walk where Alexander had walked, to look over the land far below from the vantage point where he had stood.

  In the North West, there was Herat, a large town, the second largest in the country after Kabul. It was the most disciplined of all the cities. The Warlord, Ismail Khan, had made sure of that in his time as governor of the province.

  The sight of the old yellow Russian Volga cars being used as taxis, the men safely ensconced inside, while the women in the ubiquitous ‘Afghan blue’ burka sat in the boot, holding up the boot lid with a piece of wood was incongruous and a little disconcerting. Yet, here it was possible to walk around the bazaar, to visit the money changer without fear. It was the safest place in the country, no need for any special security here.

  The fifteenth-century shrine to the eleventh-century Sufi mystic Khwajah Abdullah Ansari, the Gawharshad Musalla complex with its remaining five minarets from the fifteenth century, and the Great Mosque in the centre of the town, had to be seen to be believed.

  All of these places were for the adventurous traveller and Steve was certainly that. Visits out to sites in the country where village men in their seventies would bow. They remembered a gentler time when the overseas backpackers would come through. Some in London buses, some in beat-up old Volkswagens, some by local buses. No doubt a few walked in.

  Others would be waylaid on the way into Kabul with its plentiful supply of hashish. It was hard to imagine flower power in Kabul under the Taliban. The only flowers those inveterate hippies would have seen, would be the daisies pushing up from their place six foot under the ground.

  Steve was always careful when he went back to the States. People were not normally interested in his travels of “derring-do”, so he usually did not speak a great deal about such places. Occasionally, he would meet someone who might be interested, and there was nothing he liked more than to recount his tales of those locations. He could never be sure if these people fully understood. Their point of reference was the local environment. Their knowledge of the places, the experiences, and the people was based on what they had seen on the television. His were first-hand, on the ground. They would never understand the beauty of the landscape, the friendliness of the people, the history, and the culture stretching back thousands of years.

  An American would always talk about their culture, but it was only five hundred years old. In Afghanistan, their culture stretched back four thousand years, and whereas the country had been destroyed, its economy devastated, its infrastructure limited, the culture still shone through. It was a unique and memorable place, and he knew that he would never experience such a place again. Such places did not exist anywhere else, and he felt privileged.

  On the trips, down by road to Jalalabad, they would often stop about ten kilometres before reaching the city. The Russians had built Darunta Dam with a small hydroelectric station on the Kabul River. The lake at the back of it had subsequently filled with water and fish. Just before the dam wall there were some mud-brick eating houses. The fish, small and not exactly boneless, would be barbequed over a wood or charcoal fire and served with the best naan bread imaginable. For those used to fine dining, it would be hard to understand, that one of the most rewarding dining experiences in the world, was to be had sitting on cushions near an Old Russian dam in Eastern Afghanistan.

  Steve was in Kabul when Fred called. ‘We need to meet at some stage in the next few weeks. I will give you a ca
ll, and you can come over to New York. We have a new office.’

  It had not yet officially opened, though Fred had looked in at the new premises. There was a hive of activity. Additional staff were coming on board, setting up desks, and ensuring they got the best seat with the best view.

  He could see that the accountants and the auditors were setting up their area, ready for their involvement in the proceedings. He preferred it when it was just the original team, but now with the implementation stage coming, it was going to become excessive with procedure and paperwork.

  It was necessary he knew. He just wished they could have done without it. A think tank by its nature needed to be left unburdened by the realities. Their focus was best served by not being diverted by extraneous forces. The paper pushers were both irrelevant and disrupting.

  Some seriously sophisticated electronics, printers, plotters, projectors, and expensive-looking tables and chairs had been delivered to the offices. He had lined up his office, its view overlooking Pier 11 and the East River. He could just about see the heliport, up towards the Staten Island Ferry.

  George and Rusty would be using it a lot when they came up from Washington. For them, there would be no time for delays in the rush hour traffic from the airport. Of course, had they been paying for the helicopter, they may well have sung a different tune.

  Chapter 11

  ‘Intelligence reports indicate that the Russian government is aware of our plans,’ George Hampshire said. It was the first formal meeting at the new office in New York.

  It was Fred who responded. ‘We saw it as inevitable. We would have preferred their involvement at a later date. We will just need to incorporate it into our planning.’

  George was surprised that the team had taken it so calmly. ‘Whereas the Russian’s last incursion should have discouraged them from returning, it appears the wealth that can be sourced is offsetting their reluctance. We had intended to enter for purely economic reasons, to benefit the people of Afghanistan. It now seems that our hand is forced.’ It sounded false to Fred. When had, the American government concerned themselves with regards to Afghanistan? It was American interest’s first, and then Afghanistan, a distant second. He chose not to comment.

  ‘Unfortunately, the U.S. military must take a more active role, although how the events with Russia will play out is pure supposition. It may purely be rhetoric, but we cannot assume that they will not initiate some action. They have shown that they are ready to start assimilating those countries on its borders into the Russian sphere of influence again. I take the events that have occurred in recent times in the Ukraine as confirmation. It will only be a matter of time before they start reclaiming the Islamic countries on the northern border of Afghanistan.

  ‘They will not countenance an American stranglehold on Afghanistan at their exclusion. I assume you would have hoped this would have remained as such, a possibility.’

  ‘Hope is the correct word, but we always realised Russia would not stand mute and allow us unhindered access into the country. How they would react is not so easy to formulate. We knew that the plan would need to be continually adjusted. If, it is only to be pontificating, banging the drum from the Russians, then it is minor. If they intend to engage militarily, then major.’ Fred and the team always knew the Russians were coming, but they had not openly mentioned it, especially in their meeting with the president.

  ‘Certainly, the U.S. military does not relish the idea of direct confrontation with Russia, but we must be pragmatic and deal with the realities,’ George said. ‘The situation in Afghanistan is different now. Even, if we were to incur substantial cost in bolstering our position in the country, the wealth of the resources would not only pay for any military exercise, it would also ensure that the Afghani people, as well as ourselves, would generate a substantial profit from the venture.’

  There he goes again, attempting to justify the government’s position by always mentioning the benefit to the Afghan people, Fred mused.

  ‘The original concept of the economic incursion remains paramount; however, it will now be an advance into the country with some military assistance. That appears to be the only solution.’ George concluded his justification.

  To Archie, this aligned with his views on the subject, although his required military assistance was not to the north. It was the other borders that concerned him. He had already seen that the Taliban was the bigger problem.

  ‘We will bring some military personnel into the office over the next week,’ George said. ‘Let me reiterate, we do not want the military in Afghanistan, guns blazing to fight the locals. We just need to be prepared on the northern borders, if the Russians attempt to breach. The latest development may well have a bearing on our troop withdrawals. This is potentially the first time that Russia and America have faced each other directly across a battlefield. Only a fool would not see the possible ramifications. This could escalate and flow out into the Middle East. It is too frightening to contemplate.’

  ‘George,’ Archie quickly stood up to speak, ‘I need to meet with your people when they arrive. My detailed analysis shows clearly, that our move into the country, regardless of any agreements that we may have, will not be as smooth as we would intend.’ Archie felt that this was the time to raise his concerns relating to the Taliban, and, to hopefully, instigate his controversial plan.

  The other members of the team all had their say, all expressed concern about the changing plan. Some were visibly upset; academics tended to view the world through ‘rose-coloured glasses’. There was a belief in the early days of the think tank, that they were involved with a truly enlightened, life-enhancing venture, free of the interference of politics, the military, and with the welcoming arms of the people they were going to save from their never-ending drudgery. Archie had never been one of those disillusioned few.

  It had been foolhardy, even naïve, to believe that an economic invasion would be embraced by all countries and all peoples. There would always be some foreign power showing interest, whether it was the Russians, the British, the Persians, the ancient Greeks, or the Mongols.

  ‘George, how do the Russians know about the work we are doing here?’ Archie enquired. ‘Certainly, none of us here would have mentioned it, and there is no visible activity in Afghanistan of the plan?’

  ‘It is pure conjecture. It is thought that the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service, who always has a presence in the USA, have noticed quotes for unusually large quantities of mining equipment, coupled with requested costings for scores of ships, and large transporter aircraft. You have been putting out feelers around the USA as part of your planning, and although you have never mentioned a destination, it is relatively easy for the Russians to come to a conclusion.’

  George was correct. In Russia, the projected move of the American mining teams into Afghanistan, had indeed been identified. The news being received at the Kremlin indicated activities in the USA, that could only pertain to a major action somewhere in the world. In the past, it had always been military based, this time it seemed that mining was the primary objective.

  ‘Maybe they have a similar team to ours in Russia?’ Grace postulated. ‘We have always assumed that our analysis was unique, but they may have seen the possibilities as well.’ It was initially a throwaway comment, but on closer evaluation, the team had to conclude that they may have a counterpart on the other side of the World.

  ‘If they do have a team, they would have recognised what we are planning here,’ Fred suggested. ‘If they take the wealth for themselves, they will certainly have no humble thoughts of helping the people of Afghanistan. They will just take it, and with violence.’

  ‘There is a major problem if they want to come back into Afghanistan,’ George said. ‘The Russian satellite countries to the North of Afghanistan are no longer under the yoke of the Soviet Union. They are now independent countries, and they would not be favourable to the Russian military transiting their countries. It is well known that c
ertain members of the hierarchy in Russia still consider them part of Russia, and would revel in the opportunity to bring them back under their control.’

  ‘I was not aware that you saw Russia as an issue,’ George added.

  ‘It was not intended as an attempt by us to mislead,’ Fred said. ‘We were set up as a think tank. Our function was to investigate and evaluate all the options. It’s like a chess game, it takes you off into unknown and unfathomable possibilities. Russia is only one of those possibilities which have now become real.’

  ‘Are there any other possibilities that we should know about?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. As the plan is implemented, there will be actions and reactions by various parties and various governments. It is for us here to evaluate and to suggest countermoves, retreats, advances, as it plays out.’

  ‘Are you saying that this could end up in a direct conflict with Russia?’

  ‘We will ensure that it will not occur.’

  ‘How can you be certain?’

  ‘We have the best minds here, the best strategists. We will prevent war.’

  ‘I hope you are right,’ George conceded. It was an argument he would not win.

  ‘Fred, ‘George added, ‘I believe it is idealistic to believe they are not ready for an aggressive military solution. It is in their nature. Whether they are Tsarist, Communist, or Capitalist, they still remain Mother Russia, and they are still expansionist and militaristic.

  ‘Are we talking about a possible war between Russia and America?’ Archie asked. ‘Is that the price for the mineral wealth of Afghanistan?’

  ‘Archie, the stakes are high, probably higher than any other situation in history. Left unchecked, Russia would always have retaken Afghanistan, possibly threatened Pakistan, a country that also has nuclear weapons, and end up destabilising the whole region including the Middle East.’ George realised that the plan must move forward. He just hoped Fred and his people knew what they were doing.