When Al-Bukhari heard the unmistakable whirling of the blades that was his cue to dart from the tent and signal his men to wield the AK-47 U machine-guns. The downdraft whipped up sheets of debris and mud that spewed in all directions like machine-gun fire forcing Al-Bukhari to the ground. The roar of the turbos and rotors subsided allowing him to stand in time to see four dozen camouflaged figures emerge and leap to the ground. A Russian and an American wearing Ray-Ban Warriors followed the others wielding Zastava thirty-nine millimeter machine guns slung around their shoulders. This was not what he anticipated. Where was the briefcase with the $2 million?
The Russian general shouted over the roar of the whining turbos that echoed across the valley. “DROP YOUR WEAPONS NOW OR DIE!”
Robinson and Dimochka stepped from the Hind-Flarge ready to kill anyone who stopped them. A Tswana on the right raised his AK-47 U ever so slightly and Robinson casually riddled him with bullets as though it were a picnic. Another got off a shot and he pulled a 9mm Walther P38 from a shoulder holster and shot him in the chest. The clansman dropped to his knees like a drunken marionette spraying gunfire in all directions catching a trio of his gang members. A pair on the left tried to go for their weapons and the general gave both their rewards in heaven — machine-guns dropped uselessly from their cold dead hands to the mud.
“I SAID DROP’M NOW!” repeated Dimochka.
A line of forty-eight Russians dropped to their knees and pointed the Zastava thirty-nine millimeters at the horrified clan. It was a show of force seldom seen by the Tswana and death had never been so swift. The AK-47 U’s dropped from their hands and everyone raised their hands to surrender.
Dimochka signaled to his men. “Go get the hostages and bring them here!” He looked with disdain at Al-Bukhari while his men searched the tents. “Are you the gentleman I talked to on the phone?”
“Are you Mr. Dee?”
“General Dimochka, you can call me Dee if you want to.” Gunfire echoed from some of the distant tents. One of the gang members dropped to his knees and went for his weapon. Robinson shot him through the head and the corpse fell like a sack of potatoes.
Robinson contemptuously peered over the gang, “ANYONE ELSE WISH TO DIE TODAY?” Everyone dropped to their knees and shook their heads — terror filled their eyes as they peered at the rising body count. More gunfire erupted from the tents. Others were dying by the second. Now they understood close-up and personal the reports from the underground Mogadishu of the ruthlessness of the Russian army. Thousands had died and it had reached into Beledweyne and now to the mountains of Ethiopia. It was clear that the days of the clans ruling the streets were over.
A dozen Super Cobras and Mil Mi-24’s hovered above the oaks and elms searching for clansmen that may have attempted to run off from the mealy. There were a few sporadic bursts of fire into the brush and then it was silent. The soldiers pushed clansmen to the clearing that they found running around the compound and pushed them to their knees. The Red Cross workers came running.
Robinson saw that Carol was among them. He smiled as he slung the Zastava around the back and welcomed her into his open arms. She smothered him with kisses. “I am so happy to see you.”
“Hey gal, what about me?” wondered Wagner. Carol introduced her as her best friend and Robinson found himself again smothered with kisses.
“Whew. This is some reception!” he laughed while he embraced the pair and swung them around like ragdolls.
Carol embraced Dimochka and laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for saving me. Thank you for saving all of us.” Tears ran down her cheeks and the other Red Cross took turns embracing the Russian general. It was apparent to Robinson that he was loved by all.
The general addressed the Tswana. “You have defied an international law that is punishable anywhere in the world with death. No judge, no jury, no trial is needed. The Red Cross is sacred. They are the angels among us that do God’s work. They do not inquire as to who they heal. They do not take sides. Theirs is a mission of mercy and the world makes it an unholy act to ever interfere with their mission. We need only to look at the trucks you have hijacked and the workers clearly dressed in their outfits recognizable anywhere in the world and know that you are all guilty of a heinous crime.”
He signaled a soldier to drag Al-Bukhari to his side and had him kneel before him while he pulled a 9mm Walther P38 from his holster and stuck it to his head.
“GOD NO! DONT KILL ME! I BEG FOR MERCY! IN HEAVEN’S NAME, SHOW MERCY!”
“I leave it to those you have kidnapped to decide.”
Turner walked to his side and took his hand and pushed it from Al-Bukhari’s head.
“YOU SEE MY WORDS ARE TRUE! I want all of you to tell every one of the angels that walk among us before you die.”
Mi-14 helicopters bearing Ethiopian flags arrived on the scene and began landing in the clearing about one hundred meters off.
He holstered the pistol and continued, “Unfortunately for all of you the Red Cross does not decide who lives and who dies. All of you will be brought before the courts and executed before the week is out. May God have mercy on your souls.”
General bin Hanbal of the Ethiopian military marched across the field with a hundred soldiers armed with AK-47’s and 7.62 x 39 mm assault rifles.
Dimochka flashed a broad smile and extended his hand. “We meet under different circumstance this time my comrade.”
Bin Hanbal returned the handshake. “I was upset with you the last time we met at the grain warehouse and swore I would kill you the next time we met. After a time I realized how fortunate I was and now I count my blessings. I can only hope that one day I will be as compassionate as you, General.”
“My country was once your ally,” said Dimochka while the Ethiopian soldiers escorted the prisoners to the choppers. “Let this day be the beginning of a new relationship my comrade. It was politics that came between the friendships. Let us not let politics come between us.”
“It was you who taught me that it is a soldier’s responsibility to stand up to its leaders for what it right. Given the same order again, I would not allow it. You may have forgiven us, but I am sure God has not.”
“God will forgive you. You have your entire life ahead of you and if God keeps score, you will have an opportunity to tip the balance in your favor before he passes judgment.”
“You are a compassionate man in every way.” Bin Hanbal looked as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “May I ask a favor?”
“Certainly.”
“These are the same men that were with me at the grain warehouse and they all wish to shake your hand for giving them their lives. To a man, they are all grateful for your compassion.”
Each soldier took his turn giving a salute and a handshake. The Russian general embraced each and returned the salute.
Dimochka reminded General Hanbal of Robinson’s presence at the previous encounter at the grain warehouse. The two shook hands and exchanged pleasantries and then introduced Carol Turner. “She is my little angel.”
The prisoners were loaded into the Mil-14’s. “One day we will drink Vodka together and talk of this day my comrade.” The pair embraced as though they were brothers and a minute later the Ethiopian choppers raced into the air and disappeared over the horizon.