by Geoff Wolak
‘Poor bastard,’ Hal uttered as they trekked through dark woods and back to the car.
‘Think what Jimmy went through, and six times!’
At the car, they stopped and exchanged uneasy looks through the dark, checked the trunk for blood with a flashlight, and headed back. On the highway, a patrol car pulled them over. Hal nervously fumbled through his pockets.
‘Relax,’ Hacker urged. ‘You’re you, remember.’
Hal found his other-self’s ID and made ready, a light soon shone into his face.
‘Hello again,’ the deputy offered. ‘Second time in a week.’
‘I must be lucky,’ Hal offered, the deputy puzzling the meaning as Hal handed over his ID.
‘Who’s your friend? Another helicopter veteran?’
‘Yeah,’ Hal explained. ‘Same outfit. He’s not been back long, so I’m trying to get him some work - when he’s sober.’
‘Hit the bottle, eh,’ the deputy commented as he handed back the ID. ‘There’re a few ex-soldiers like that around here. Mind how you go.’
Driving off, Hacker repeated, ‘Hit the bottle?’
Hal shrugged and made a face. ‘You might have done.’
Back at the motel room, they systematically went through all of the other Hal’s possessions, Hal reminding himself about things long since forgotten. He found a girl’s name and number and wondered about the waitress, found an unused condom, a used condom in a towel, plenty of money in a wallet, and a few old black and white photographs from Vietnam. In a bag he found a pilot’s log book, a few Huey manuals and maps, and an employment contract – which he studied as Hacker fetched coffees from a machine in motel’s reception.
A map of Clallam County needed studying - by morning, compass bearings and key features noted, as well as the mills used by the company Hal worked for. Hacker sat asking questions of the Hueys of the day, loads and speeds, settings and checks, Hal getting all of the answers right. Eventually. His co-pilot, when there was one, was called Richy, and the man had a terrible laugh and a bad smell, a family in Virginia – he remembered.
In the morning, Hal having gotten three hours sleep, they drove down to the Huey depot in the old Dodge, a gate guard recognising Hal and waving him in. As they parked up, Hal licked his lips. ‘Wish me luck.’
They eased out together, and approached the main foreman’s hut. The man stepped out as they neared. ‘Ah, Hal.’ The man stopped. ‘Buddy, try and get some sleep on the weekends and ease off the booze and late nights; you look like you’ve aged ten years.’
‘Right, boss.’
‘Can you ferry a new generator to the north camp?’
‘Sure,’ Hal offered. ‘Where is it?’
‘Greg has it in the compound.’ The man looked Hacker over. ‘Who’s this?’
Hal thumbed over his shoulder. ‘My buddy Hacker from Nam. He can fly anything, so…’
‘Richy is off sick, again, so … yeah, use him. Current civilian license?’
Hacker handed over a series of documents, all quickly scanned.
‘OK, same day rate, but I’ll have to talk to Richy before any regular work.’
‘No problem,’ Hal offered his boss.
‘And Hal, get some sleep now and then, you do look old and rough sometimes. And you’re putting on weight.’
‘Right, boss.’
Five minutes later, Hal and Hacker powered up a red Huey.
‘God damn this feels odd,’ Hal noted.
‘It feels great!’ Hacker shouted. Knocking on a cassette tape machine, ‘The bird is word’ blasted out, Hal soon lifting up, and soon transporting a slung generator north, Hacker map reading. As they dropped off the generator, the Rolling Stones ‘Paint it black’ was now playing.
‘I forgot how much I love this!’ Hal shouted, Hacker whooping as tree tops whizzed past below. ‘How long can we stay here?’
‘Couple of weeks at least, I reckon.’
‘No hurry, so let’s stretch it out a bit.’
A month later, and Hal and Hacker sadly quit the helicopter business. Hal moved to Arizona, and Hacker moved to New York, the pair staying in touch and meeting every few months. Once in their new homes, they invested wisely the money they had brought with them, and did very well on the stock markets. Some shares were held for the long term, others traded for cash to live on. Diamonds were sold, as were old watches that they brought over, and the life styles of the two men improved rapidly.
Hal bought several businesses around Arizona, including a supplier of adding machines - forerunners to computers, his personal fortune growing monthly. He joined the Republican Party, and started to get to know the local scene. Since Hal had a very good grasp of politics, and a great ability to predict the future fortunes of politicians – and their policies, he soon got noticed and climbed through the ranks.
He and Hacker typically sat in reading of an evening, reading books on politics and political procedures, and in 1972 Hal was elected as a local councilman in Winslow, Arizona. As Jimmy had requested, and as was required, Hal found a suitable wife, a lady from a good family, a Republican of course - and a lady with large hair.
Hal suffered that job for almost four years, growing in stature in the political scene, a scene he hated - he was a Democrat, and was duly selected to run for Congress in 1976. That selection process had involved a few bribes, and two candidates falling sick suddenly. Jimmy Carter won the Presidency, but Arizona voted Republican, a rich Hal Becker on his way to Congress to oppose anything that Carter did. Since it was Jimmy Carter, Hal wouldn’t have too much of an issue with opposing the bum.
Hacker had bought his way into having the right friends and contacts in Massachusetts, married a rich lady, and in 1976 joined Hal in a Republican minority in The House after some manoeuvring – the other candidate suffering a heart attack. Four years of a Carter administration was a prospect that neither of the men looked forwards to. Still, Apple Computers was formed in 1977, and they both bought shares, Star Wars opened in the cinemas, and Elvis gave his last concert. The Tandy TRS80 computer appeared in the shops with the BASIC programming language, and both congressmen had shares in the company.
By 1985, Hal and Hacker were secretly very rich, and using that money to buy favour and to influence people. They also worked with the massive advantage of foresight. In 1986 they were both elected to the Senate, were very well connected, and were very popular with both their constituencies and the party apparatus. They had also used pens from the future to make people unwell at certain times.
They were young senators, both just forty-two years old technically, but they appeared older. Their remit was simple, in that they would do basically what a Republican Senator might do, but without altering the time line at all. Their purpose was to bide their time on this world. And Hal and Hacker, they made a point of getting to know a Republican state governor called Clayton, a future President that Jimmy had briefed them on.
A very nice warlord
As the residents of Goma town slept soundly, one hot night in 1972, a portal crackled open in the bush, Lobster leading his men through, all armed with pistols and AK47s. If anyone had been around to observe the men then they might have thought that an armed group of rebels were on the prowl, a group of three hundred men.
An hour later, and Lobster approached a rebel campsite west of Goma, the sleepy guards killed quietly. By dawn, none of the rebels were left alive, Lobster and his men moving towards Forwards Base, where a camp was set-up. Livestock was bought locally for cash, as were building materials, and soon the local warlord was asking questions. He sent men. None of the men returned, so he dispatched more, who also failed to return. He decided to go himself, well armed, and with his best men, but died from accurate sniper fire.
The next day his compound was raided, the drugged-up men housed within all shot dead, the women told to take the children and to leave as a Rifles captain took possession of the compound.
A day later a car drove up to the compound, me
t by men of the Rifles in green fatigues - but now looking like bandits. The people in the car wished to sell rough diamonds. They were welcomed in, a price agreed, money paid over. And … could they find more please, a great deal more.
Another car approached that day, and its driver asking to buy drugs. The group were welcomed inside, where they were all shot dead, their car pinched. That car set out later, drove south through the night, and found the house that their team were after. Kimballa Sr. was killed by a grenade, his son shot dead, his cronies all killed.
In the months that followed, being a bandit or warlord in the lawless Congo was not such a good career choice, and all disappeared, the locals whispering about the ‘ghosts of the night’. UN workers were left alone, doctors escorted and assisted, and crime fell dramatically. But Rwandan soldiers occasionally crossed the border, and were never seen or heard of again. That caused additional Rwandan soldiers to cross, and they were never seen again.
Oddly enough, odd for the press at the time, the traumatised Asians being expelled from Uganda by Idi Amin were given safe passage through the Congo and across to Tanzania, buses aplenty - food and water supplied, as well as medical care. The UN, and the regional powers, became aware of a new warlord in the area, the gangster apparently named Lobster. He ran his empire without causing problems for UN workers, sold diamonds, and was rumoured to be buying mining equipment.
The death toll in the Congo was reported to be very high, and a cause for UN concern, but the streets were clean, the roads open, and passage was safe – much safer than it had been. Much scratching of heads met with the conclusion that this new warlord was running a tight ship, but all attempts to meet with him failed. He was rumoured to be very rich, well equipped with illegal Russian arms, and – oddly enough - ran several large orphanages.
Two years after the arrival of this new warlord, and a very large part of the Congo had been quelled, a bus service running across much of it, the passengers not harmed, nor even bothered by the ‘gunmen’ at the checkpoints. Towns had electricity and phone lines, and gunmen patrolled the streets at night.
The French fully believed that this newcomer would move on Kinshasa, and so duly sent an envoy. The envoy was allowed to see Lobster, who sat in a Colonel’s uniform - gold-plated pistols on his hips. The French delicately asked if there was anything they could do to assist their new friend. Lobster asked for electrical generating equipment - in return for diamonds, as well as medical supplies and school supplies. And, Lobster made it clear that he had no interest in politics, or in taking Kinshasa – which would have been an easy enough task at the time.
The French went away and scratched their heads, but supplied the goods in return for rough diamonds, and did so quietly - since they were breaching a few UN sanctions. When the electrical equipment arrived it was paid for in refined gold; Lobster had reached the vast gold deposits near the Zambian border and had found the mother lode, now sitting on enough money to worry the world – had the world known about it.
The world would have also been worried to see Lobster recruiting youths in need of some work, as well as in need of a good bath and some food, injecting them, and putting them through a gruelling training process. New members of the Rifles were being trained in earnest in the jungles, but no one knew, and no one cared – since the central Congo was just about as far away from everything as you could get.
Lobster was not threatening anyone’s borders, and so he was left alone. He even worked with the few western mining companies in the region, and allowed them to continue illegally mining, simply because he did not wish any undue attention brought upon himself. He asked for a reasonable cut, received that reasonable cut, and made sure that the Belgian miners were protected.
As the years rolled on, Lobster built up his men and his money, soon sitting on a vast fortune. But that secret fortune was not a problem, nor were his plans, because this world was due to fight a nuclear war in the decades ahead, and he would do nothing to stop that war. Lobster’s mission would move up a gear after that war, and on this world a certain American President named Clayton would never come to power, but the Zim would land here. Jimmy knew that, Lobster knew that, but few others were in possession of that knowledge.
As Lobster’s wealth grew, both from mining kickbacks and diamonds - not to mention the gold, he improved the roads, built schools, and improved local politics, all done whilst ignoring the Kinshasa Government, which sat a thousand miles away to the west.
Six years after arriving, Lobster did an odd thing, in fact two odd things. He sent the Kinshasa Government several trucks laden with gold, and declared independence for East Congo. The gold tribute paid to Kinshasa was a bribe, not that the government there was a threat to Lobster, and Lobster offered to send more gold if they cooperated. In a very odd move, the Kinshasa government agreed to the split, and a new country was born, although few recognised it. Tanzania, Zambia, Uganda and Rwanda were asked if they would like embassies in a new capital that was oddly named as Forward Base.
The Tanzanians agreed an embassy, the Zambians, Rwandans and Ugandans dismissing such an idea. In Zambia, the MLF made ready to destabilize this new country after a nudge from the mining companies, who feared that they would now be restricted. Lobster’s men near the Zambian border, and close to the gold mine, noticed the movement, and now Lobster felt as I had at the time. Lobster also took a leaf out of Jimmy’s book and made the first move, a sneak attack that wiped out the MLF at night.
In the morning, local Zambian officials found the roads littered with bodies. But since each man appeared to be an irregular guerrilla fighter they were not too concerned, and wondered if the men had fought each other. None suspected Lobster’s men, because the Rifles had not been seen crossing the border.
The UN, however, became concerned at the rumoured activities of East Congo when their people pieced together some of the equipment that the Rifles had been procuring. They figured that Lobster now operated some twenty six Russian helicopters, mostly Mi8s, eight old Hueys, twenty Cessna 172s, and two old Dash 7s. That concern became alarm when the CIA reported an odd occurrence.
A large Russian cargo ship had sailed south through the Atlantic and to the west coast of Africa, suspected of supplying arms to Angola. But when the ship neared the coast of what was Zaire it halted, helicopters seen to be flying off towards Kinshasa. Since the East Congo was a long way off, the CIA figured that it was the Kinshasa government itself taking delivery of the helicopters. And, since the CIA enjoyed amicable relations with that government, nothing was done – other than to make gentle enquiries.
The second night another large ship came to a halt out at sea, more helicopters seen to be flying off, a third batch on the third night. Less than gentle enquiries were made. Yes, we are buying helicopters from the Russians - the Kinshasa government confirmed, but little else. Two additional ships released their flying cargoes on consecutive evenings. Inland, a CIA agent, working as a relief medic near the border with East Congo, stood and observed as forty-two Mi24 attack helicopters roared past and into East Congo. The report went up the line, since it was a very significant move.
The CIA decided to move. They landed by plane at Forward Base, unannounced, and were taken to see Lobster, now President of all he surveyed. Once in front of Lobster, they complained about the Russian Mi24s - and would Lobster like to buy some American kit instead? Lobster appeared reluctant, but agreed to buy twenty Hueys, a second batch of twenty Hueys a year later, extras and spares.
Pleased with themselves, the CIA asked about weapons, since they had a good stock of AK47s and ammo. Yes, Lobster agreed the sale, and paid in refined gold. And, if there were any favours the CIA wanted in the region, he would assist. The CIA, thinking laterally, asked about mining equipment – from US companies. Lobster welcomed the relevant people from the US Embassy in Kinshasa, and allowed himself into being bullied, placing many large orders for equipment – and would the CIA turn a blind eye to Russian tanks here?
> The CIA had no issues with tanks in the Congo, since there was no harm they could do to anyone; there were no America interests for a thousand miles in any direction. Those tanks would not be coming from Russia, they were already in the region, and Lobster paid over the odds for tanks from Uganda, Tanzania, Zambia and even Rwanda. But Rwanda was becoming concerned at the military build-up next door, and rightly so, its spies suggesting that Lobster housed and fed tens of thousands of soldiers.
The CIA examined satellite images of Forward Base and the main Rifles base, discovering that the base was ten miles long, and could house up to fifty thousand people. An estimate of the soldiers operating there was put at thirty thousand under training. But East Congo was somewhere on the map that no CIA department manager worth a damn ever looked at. Congo, where the fuck is that?
There was no action in the centre of Africa, save a few communist rebels in Angola. So when Lobster attacked Rwanda it hardly made the news in the States, or even in Europe. Mi24s roared across the border, decimating Rwandan forces after bombs had killed many soldiers in their beds overnight. Tanks and armoured personnel carriers rumbled across the border, and by dawn the next day it was all over. The bulk of the Rifles withdrew, a new puppet regime put in place. The UN condemned the move, and neighbouring countries readied peacekeepers.
Lobster was ready. He purchased food directly from the neighbouring countries, and hired doctors and construction gangs from Zambia, Uganda and Tanzania. He even hired teams from Kenya. The various neighbouring governments all received contracts to help rebuild Rwanda, and were paid up front in gold, a great many future contracts discussed. The UN were allowed in, and stood amazed at the contracts awarded – and at the international make-up of the assistance flooding in. There was very little they could complain about.