“I took two aspirin and in ten minutes I’ll go back to bed. There’s a big meeting coming up and it all rolls over and over in my head.” Robinson believed anything stronger than an aspirin was the first step toward drug addiction. Keeping one’s body free of drugs was an important part of his upbringing.
Mom and Dad were nearing their final years. Both had deteriorated dramatically and Robinson had them leave the home in Michigan and move in with him in Baltimore. He wanted to be as close to them as he could, even though he spent little time at the house. It would have been phone calls to Michigan and probably a birthday and Christmas card relationship. He wanted more than that. They had brought him up as any good parents would and now it was his turn to take care of them. And he did not mind at all. He had a maid service come in once a week to tidy up the place and the neighbors across the street kept an eye on them. Mom had the beginning of Alzheimer’s and, in her final month or two, he figured he’d move her into a nursing home if it became too much of a burden for Dad.
Robinson finished up the note to Shaughnessy and decided to go back to bed. “Goodnight, Dad.”
Five minutes later he was sound asleep.
The Ilyushin Il0967-300PU circled Aden Adde International as it made the 180 degree turn around the port of Mogadishu which lie on the blue-green Indian Ocean. Huge turbofans with a thrust of sixteen-thousand kgf could push it along at high altitudes for a journey than could span one-quarter of the globe at mach .6, slightly more than one-half the speed of sound. It was capable of holding 265 passengers; however this Russian presidential craft seated only two on this particular day. Following behind a dozen II yushin I1-62M formed a fleet filled with several thousand Russian troops and equipment.
Al-Awzai shielded his eyes with a straw hat as he peered at the fleet that glistened high overhead in the sun. Diamonds; they sparkle like diamonds. Perhaps this is the day that Allah has delivered us from anarchy. He dropped to his feet, then bowed to Mecca while he muttered a half silent prayer. I’m getting too old for this. He struggled to his feet assisted by Sharmarke who had grabbed him by the shoulder.
“You pray for deliverance, do you?”
“Yes.”
“It may very well be our last hope.”
“The aircraft appeared to be like diamonds.”
“Diamonds in the sky — it is God speaking to you.”
Air traffic was held back in order to allow the fleet immediate access to the blistering tarmac where a red carpet lie awaiting for the most important guests in the last decade. Within moments, two figures emerged surrounded by FSB agents while armed Russian troops deboarded and formed a defensive perimeter. A Somali marching brass band played Russian military marches while the roar of the turbines winding down somewhat drowned it out.
Jamal Sheikh Sharmarke, Prime Minister of Somalia, and his assistant Al-Awzai greeted the square jawed Georgiy Kuznetsov Tolstoy, President of the Russian Federation and Foreign Minister, Vissarionovich with the customary embrace.
Kusnetsov towered over the others with his six and a half foot frame, give or take an inch, muscular and physically imposing while barrel-chested like a heavyweight boxer. In fact, he did box during his college years and had won a bronze medal in the ’86 Olympics. Currently he kept in shape as best he could with a morning routine of running and weightlifting.
He stepped up to the bank of microphones and TV cameras that were beaming the event across the country while translators sat off to the side. “Greetings — citizens of Somalia! I am looking forward to visiting with your TFG leaders today and touring your country. Somalia has always been a friend of our homeland and it is my hope that our countries will mutually benefit from our visit. Thank you for your hospitality.”
Earlier that morning a fleet of Mil Mi-26 helicopters arrived carrying several thousand troops and supplies. A temporary encampment had been set up on a parched grass hillside at the west end of the runway.
Original plans included moving the meeting site to Jawhar — a town of eighty thousand. It stood north of Mogadishu where the Intergovernmental Authority on Development had set up a transitional government in a grain warehouse a few years previous. Mogadishu was considered to be too dangerous for a meeting of this importance as the city was overrun with rogue militias, terrorists and assorted criminals. Instead Kusnetsov took the advice of his generals and decided to set up a temporary Russian military command at Aden Adde International.
Sharmarke and the entire IGAD was happy to receive the guests on any terms as it was the first time any important foreign dignitary had actually set foot on Somali soil in two decades. They were delighted that the cameras picked up the coming and going of the aircraft and vehicles as it indicated to the rest of the country that something big was going down, although they were not sure what to anticipate.
The Russian and Somalia leaders eventually found their way to the end of the runway where the Russian military had set up a small tent. They sat across from one another around an ornate cherry table flown in from the Hilton Moscow Leningradskaya Hotel.
Al-Awzai ran his palm over the glossy finish. “Such grand workmanship — never have I seen such a fine table in my own country. He had seen many magnificent tables in his excursions around the globe, of course. It seemed out of place in this country in which Allah had left them defenseless and alone. He always calculated that Allah was punishing him. It was not his place to question. Allah worked in mysterious ways.
Kusnetsov began while a translator stood by. “We have a proposal for your transitional government. I’ll keep this short. You asked for help and we are here to turn your country around. We will coordinate our military and the UN multinationals with the Red Cross and other agencies that can offer assistance. Much like the Americans who took over Iraq we can do the same thing here, however on a much smaller scale. It will not be a pretty sight as many of your terrorists and rogue armies will be crushed in the initial confrontation. Forgive me for being frank, however we are beyond polite conversation here.”
“It should not be as brutal as that,” interjected Vissarionovich, “as this will be a battle for hearts and minds as well. In short, this is the war that will stabilize your country. In the end you will have elections and an orderly economy. We will show you how to build roads, power plants, and military bases. We’ll get the United Nations and the IMF to donate billons of dollars in order to reconstruct your country. Your country will prosper as we will find oil wherever it may be, and you will have an economy that rivals anything found in Africa.”
Kusnetsov added, “We cannot let this be lengthy as it would drain our limited resources — unless we discover a major oil reserve. Unlike the Americans who took years developing Iraq we must accomplish our goals in two years — unless we are finding major oil fields.”
“Oil?” wondered Al-Awzai. There is oil here? Perhaps Allah is with us after all.
“We will talk about that shortly.” Vissarionovich gestured to one of the troops standing near and pitchers of mint tea and ice water were served.
Kusnetsov continued. “Once the effort has momentum you must take the reins and continue the progress. When we depart, you will be an oil rich nation. In another part of our proposal, we will build up your militia on a scale you cannot imagine at this moment. You will be equipped and trained for modern warfare such that formidable adversaries will be of little concern to you. Ethiopia, for example, will fear treading on your borders as you will crush any foreign power that enters your land.”