“I knew her as a little girl and she was beautiful then. I imagine your daughter must have been a joy for you.”
The technician ran the image two hours ahead. “They wound their way around the outskirts of Beledwyne and crossed the Ethiopian border. They are camped about fifteen kilometers inside the border and hiding in a forested mountain slope.”
Robinson could see the figures making camp. Prisoners were roughhoused out of the trucks and put to work gathering firewood at the point of a rifle. He hoped they would not hurt her before he arrived.
Back in the office Dimochka made a phone call to the Prime Minister of Ethiopia while Robinson drank bottled water.
“Good afternoon Prime Minister Ash. We have a little problem on your side of the border this afternoon.” He rubbed his clean shaven chin and placed his feet on the desk as he spoke. “I apologize for the unexpected timing of this call and I normally would have called the ambassador and he would call your ambassador and… well we really don’t have time for all the protocol. It seems that some Tswana citizens have kidnapped a convoy of Red Cross workers and ran across your border. We value our Red Cross very highly and will be picking them up in about an hour.”
Pause.
“My army is cleaning up Beledwyne and it is very probable that many undesirables will be rushing across the border. You might want to tighten up the border along there as you probably don’t want a lot of criminals hanging out on your side.”
Pause.
“I understand that General Hanbal could take care of this, however time is of the essence here and this could be over in the next hour and then there will be no need to discuss this further. I will consider this a personal favor if you would be kind enough to allow this and would anticipate that one day you may need a favor….”
Pause.
“Very good, I knew you would understand. I will keep in touch with you as we proceed with the operation and welcome General Hanbal to retrieve the undesirables from my care if he wishes. Give him my best wishes. It is my hope that this can be the beginning of a mutually peaceful relationship between us.”
He placed the phone on the desk. “We are all set to go.” A broad smile crossed his face. “Let’s go kick some butt.”
We’ve been out here long enough. It is time to make our move.
Turner had been picking firewood for the last two hours and was becoming tired.
“Hey! Quit your pushing!” Wagner was as belligerent as could be. The Tswana pushed the rifle barrel into her side.
“You are lazy and stupid,” he chided. “Now pick up the firewood and put it near the campfire.”
Turner intervened. She was fearful the gang member would become upset and shoot her. The pair had been like cats and dogs since the beginning “We are both tired. Can’t you see? We’ve been doing this for two hours and need a break. We need something to eat.”
“Yeah,” lambasted Wagner. “It’s easy for you. You simply sit there and point your big ole rifle at us while you sit in da shade. I need some water too. Working out in this sun is working up a powerful thirst.” She flung a stick at him.
“I swear I will shoot you woman.”
“That is enough out of both of you,” said Turner. “We have more important things to do. I want to see your leader and see if he will let us go.” She nodded to Wagner. They were going to place beta plan into action.
“Forget it. He will decide what to do with you when he is good and ready.”
“You’ll be in big trouble when he finds out who she is and how much she is worth. When he finds out you knew—”
“Shush girl, we cannot let him know who I am. Let’s get back to work.”
“Yeah? Who is she?”
“She’s gotta rich daddy…. ”
“Rich?”
“He’d pay big bucks….”
“Let’s get back to work. Pay no attention to her.”
“OK both of you put down that firewood. I’m taking you to Al-Bukhari. Move it.” He marched the pair to the leader.
“The white woman — we can ransom her. She’s got a rich father—“
Al-Bukhari ran his eyes over Turner. “Rich girl, then?” Who would have guessed a Red Cross worker would be worth something. Who are you?”
“I’m only a Red Cross worker—”
“Where ever she goes, I go with her!” Wagner blurted it out. Terror filled her eyes. Turner nudged her side. She was afraid she was overacting a bit. “I want to be included in the ransom!”
Al-Bukhari placed a pistol to Turner’s head. “You tell me who you are or I will kill you.”
“Go ahead and shoot.” Turner crossed her arms and defied the leader. “They will string all of you up when my dad finds out about this.”
“I am not going to tell you ruffians anything. Go ahead, pull the trigger. I dare you.”
A cruel sardonic smile crossed Al-Bukhari’s face and he placed the pistol to Wagner’s head. Your friend will die then. TEN…, NINE….”
“Shoot her if you must. I barely know her. She is nothing to me.”
“FIVE…, FOUR….”
Wagner said, “She ain’t gotta tell you ‘cause I’m telling you. She is the daughter of Mr. Dee… the president of…, ahh… GENERAL MOTORS!”
“General Motors?” He un-cocked the hammer and returned the pistol to his holster.
“Yep, GENERAL MOTORS! Ask for a million or two and he could have it here really quick I’d bet. Remember I get included….”
Al-Bukhari was lost in thought while he contemplated his good fortune. He pulled a BlackBerry from his pocket. “Get him on the line.”
“That phone will not work,” said Turner pretending to be submissive. “You must give me the phone I had earlier. It’s an encrypted line. It is the only way to reach him.”
“Get me her phone NOW!”
A minute later Turner had the phone in her hand. “I am not calling anyone. Shoot me — shoot her if you wish. I am not calling.”
Al-Bukhari was beginning to tire of this. He placed the pistol to Wagner’s head and began counting. “TEN…, NINE….”
The bad news wound around the world in hours.
Reuters’ reported it first on the internet.
SUPERTANKERS SINK TO BOTTOM
In a confirmed report all thirty-two oil tankers involved in the Somali pirate hostage crisis exploded sending black clouds into the sky that could be seen for miles at dawn (Oman time) this morning. Whether there are any survivors is yet unknown. So far no one has claimed responsibility for the catastrophe.
The president had left. It was up to the Pentagon and the Cabinet to issue the report. The Cabinet had retreated to the WHSR and called in all the other members for an all-nighter. The VP acted as chairman.
“Our first order of business is to issue a statement to the press about our part in Operation OMAN.”
Farnsworth began, “We must issue a statement as soon as possible. Make it brief and then it may be best to take no questions. We really don’t know what went wrong and questions would all be aimed at pointing blame to the president. We must protect him as best we can.”
It was agreed. Blame would not point at the president or at the Pentagon. It was a botched operation and for all intents and purposes. The Somali pirates set off the catastrophe by their own hand before the operation had been underway. It was not our own forces that set off the blaze and sunk the tankers to the bottom. If blame was to be made, it was at the pirates. They were responsible for this from beginning to end.
Whittman felt that was enough for a midnight White House Press conference. It would be played down as much as possible for the time being. In the morning the fallout would be severe and he expressed hope that more would be known by then. The White House Press could wait for the regularly scheduled eleven o’clock conference for more information.