"Fun place," Liam remarked as he stepped down the plane's stairs.
"Isn't it?" Tanner turned to Stephen who was the next to deplane. "Are you sure this is where your contact said to meet us?"
"Positive," Stephen said, checking out the surroundings.
"Can you trust this guy?"
"Yes, don’t worry." Stephen gave Tanner an annoyed look. "He's the Agency's top agent for this entire region."
The din of approaching engines stopped the conversation. Tanner and Liam scanned the skies and saw an object coming in from the northeast. After a few seconds, they could make out that it was a helicopter descending toward them. Its paint job— the same shades of green and red as the surrounding ground — would make it very difficult to discern when viewed from above.
Liam shielded his eyes with his hand while staring at the descending chopper. "Looks like a Mil MI-8 Hip. Soviet model that you can find all over Africa."
"Local military?" Tanner asked.
The Hip landed a hundred feet away from the Gulfstream, kicking up enough dust to make the three men shield their eyes from the swirling haze. The pilot killed the engine and the airport was suddenly silent again. After a few moments to let the blades wind down, the helicopter's side door slid open. Three men jumped out and strode toward the Gulfstream.
Tanner gave the trio a once-over. All were African, dark-skinned and wiry, dressed in civilian clothing.
When they got closer, the individual in the middle, wearing a Sex Pistols T-shirt, yelled in accent-free English, "Hey Infidel! What brings you out here to my neck of the woods?"
Liam and Tanner tensed, but Stephen smiled and walked toward the three. "Business, you khat-chewing slacker," he shouted back.
The native grinned. Stephen met him and the two shook hands and slapped shoulders. "Been a long time, Stephen," he said. "Iska waran?"
"Nabat," Stephen replied. He turned to the others. "Tanner, Liam — this is Axiam Osman. Axiam, these are two of my good friends, Tanner and Liam."
"Good to meet you," Axiam said. He motioned to the two men flanking him. "These are my cousins, Geedi and Madar. Their English isn't so great, but they're good boys." The two cousins looked a lot like Axiam, only younger, Geedi being a little taller and wearing a red T-shirt, while Madar was a little thinner and wore a green one.
The other OUTCAST operators began deplaning, and Axiam eyed the newcomers, his gaze locking on Naomi. "Whoa, hot babe alert!"
Naomi looked him over coolly. "You couldn't keep up with me.”
Axiam laughed. "I doubt I could. Especially after my loving wife, she who is the mother of my five children, castrated me for even thinking about another woman."
"How is Shariifo?" Stephen asked.
"She is well and waiting for us. We'd better get you loaded up. Hope you don't mind sharing the space with a ton and a half of khat."
"Cats?" Danielle asked.
Axiam shook his head, "Khat," he repeated, the word rhyming with cot. "Think of it as the African equivalent of the coco leaf."
"A drug," Tanner said with a frown.
"Easy, Tanner," Stephen said. "Khat is a part of Somali culture and has been for centuries."
"And most of the surrounding countries," Axiam said. "It's less addictive then tobacco and alcohol, but it's banned in most European and North American countries. Around here, it's used the same way the Brits use tea. Business deals and alliances are forged over a session of khat chewing." He shrugged. "Besides, the country's economy is all shot to hell. It was either become a dealer in khat, or a pirate."
"That's why we need him," Stephen said.
"Can you get us into Eyl?" Tanner asked.
Axiam's smile faded. "Yeah. Won't be easy, though. Place has been overrun with Yabaal's goons."
"Who?"
"'General Wardi Yabaal." Axiam used air quotes when speaking the man's title. "He’s your run-of-the-mill low-life with delusions of grandeur. He took Eyl several months back from the Puntland government, and they haven't managed to push him out yet."
"How many men does he have?"
Axiam shrugged. "Two to four hundred. Most of them have the military training of a six-year old, but they can still kill you. That's why when I make the khat run to Eyl, I always bring along extra guns."
He glanced at his digital watch. "We're burning daylight. I want to be home before nightfall."
Tanner made eye contact with the others. "You heard the man. Mount up!"
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Hip flew toward the town of Garoowe, in the autonomous Puntland region of Somalia, fifty miles from the Ethiopian border. Tanner sat in the cockpit and watched Axiam, who was also the pilot, fly the Russian-made helicopter. The Somali handed the controls deftly, coaxing a smooth flight out of the ten-ton craft.
"Where did you learn to fly?"
"United States Marine Corps," Axiam replied proudly. "Oorah!"
The ice between the two men was broken. Axiam had been sent to the USA by his father right before the civil war, when he had lived with his uncle, an Inman at a Minneapolis mosque. He'd graduated from college, then six years in the Marines, before being tapped by the CIA to become one of their agents. That was seven years ago.
"A khat distributor?" Tanner asked.
"Perfect cover," Axiam replied. "I can go places and see people I wouldn't otherwise have contact with. Besides, it's been the family business for the last five generation."
"What do you know about the ICA, the Islamic Caliphate Army?"
"Heard of them, but haven't seen any evidence they're involved in anything this neck of the woods. Why?"
Tanner gave him enough details to be informative, but omitted anything about Hassan or the nuclear warheads.
Axiam listened, nodding. "So we see if your team can steal a boat to get out to the ship and retake it, and then do it, right?"
"About right."
"Sounds like fun."
Tanner eyed Garoowe as they approached from the northwest. Here, there was more red soil than greenery, and the buildings were mostly one-story affairs inside walled compounds. Roads were mostly hard-packed dirt and Tanner saw only a few vehicles using them. People were out and about, some stopping to look up at them as they passed overhead.
"There she is." Axiam pointed to a walled complex ahead of them. "Home, sweet home."
Tanner's eyes swept the property. The walls were taller and thicker than most they passed over, resembling a European castle's walls. Buildings were arranged in neat rows inside the walls, along with a number of vehicles, giving the place the look of a military compound. An open space in the center of the compound offered a large enough space for the Hip to land.
People stood on the walls, and as the Hip descended, Tanner could see that they were armed with AK-47s. Most of them watched the helicopter land, but no hostile moves were made. The Hip came to a soft landing, kicking up dust. Axiam shut down the engines and removed his headset.
"Welcome to my humble abode."
Tanner got up and went back into the cargo compartment. The rest of the team, along with Geedi and Madar, were sitting on benches on both sides of the space. Occupying the center and rear of the area were bags of khat, strapped down to keep them from shifting.
"Grab your stuff," Tanner said
Madar stood and unlatched the rear, sliding it open. Outside, quite a few men waited for them already. Madar said something in Somali and the men backed up. After speaking to Geedi, he took an AK-47 that hung above the bench and hopped off the helicopter. Geedi frowned, but said nothing.