Chilemba sat spellbound as he marvelled at the wondrous creature, so perfectly adapted to the wilds of Africa.
He glanced back at his men who were all staring at her, and one of them slowly patted his stomach a few times. Chilemba, too, was hungry. Chilemba weighed up the risk of a gunshot going off and revealing their position. Although the breeze wasn’t that strong, it was in his direction which meant the gunshot would be slightly muffled.
He slowly slipped the AK 47 out from under his blanket. All the men were now awake and took their lead from him. He raised the assault rifle to his shoulder while moving himself up into a seated position. He looked down the iron sights and lined them up with a spot behind her muscular shoulder.
A sudden flutter of bird’s wings in the trees behind them made the female antelope jump backwards. She stood facing the group of men with her large oversized ears alert, listening for sounds of danger. Her large eyes blinked quickly, and her head flicked to look in the opposite direction. Chilemba knew she was about to turn and bolt, his finger squeezed the cold trigger, and a shot broke the silence of the early morning. The beautiful animal lurched backwards as her hind legs buckled and she tried to turn away. The shot was true, and she collapsed where she had stood.
All the men jumped up and moved swiftly towards the fallen animal. Chilemba arrived last, and the men who had surrounded the kudu gave way to their leader. Chilemba, AK47 still in hand, knelt next to the large body and placed his hand on the ribcage of the kudu. There was a neat hole behind the shoulder where the bullet had entered as it passed through the heart. He moved his hand over the bullet hole. ‘Thank you, child of Africa, thank you for your sacrifice that we might eat. We will feast and gain strength from the life that once coursed through your body.’
Chilemba stood up and drew his large hunting knife. He handed it to the man next to him. ‘Light a fire so we can eat something before we head out. Drag the animal into that gully, use no fresh wood or leaves, the white smoke can be seen too easily. Then, let’s take as much meat as each man can carry for the journey ahead.’
Beckoning to the three men nearest to him. ‘You three, head back over to the camp and start packing up all the backpacks. Carry them to the gully when you are finished.’
• • •
The men left the dry expanse of the plateau and came to the edge of the escarpment. The wind had picked up in the barren valley below, and fine dust was being driven against them as they slowly wound their way down into the valley, stepping carefully along the narrow path. Tall, dust devils danced across the dry remnants of Lake Chew Bahir in the distance, and Chilemba, who was in the lead position, decided to pass the barren dustbowl by way of the eastern path.
‘Keep your eyes peeled for our other cadres, they should be visible shortly,’ he shouted to the following men.
They struggled in the wind for a further hour as the path doubled back on itself, then rose and dropped on the almost desert-like eastern slope of the valley. Chilemba caught sight of a group of men a few miles ahead of them, sitting in the shade of a tree.
He breathed hard from the exertion as he forced his team to push on a little more. He watched the group up ahead and then as they got near them, he saw a short and stocky man get to his feet. The man’s hand slipped down to the trigger of his AK47, and then quickly moved away as a big smile spread across his face.
‘Brother, I see you!’ Jackson shouted.
‘Brother, it is good to see you,’ Chilemba replied and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder.
‘You look tired.’
Jackson smiled and placed his hand on Chilemba’s shoulder. ‘That will quickly be forgotten now that we are all together again.’
‘We have killed a Kudu and have good meat for a while,’ Chilemba said aloud. ‘Everyone, gather around and let us share out the load of meat to lighten our packs.’
‘We have not seen the yellow hyenas yet. Did you see them?’ Chilemba asked.
‘No, my brother, we are still ahead of them. I do not know if they split up to follow us both or have given up totally.’
‘Either way, it is good news. We must now turn east and head for Yabelo.’
• • •
A few hours later they found themselves clambering up yet another valley wall, the going was slow as the men suffered under the weight of their packs in the dry, water-sapping heat. Jackson called a halt from the back of the group and the slow procession ground to a standstill. He pointed down to the distant lakeshore behind them, towards a small group of men who were navigating the same route they had just taken. The men disappeared briefly as the wind blustered up more and more dust swirls.
‘There will be dust storms today, Chilemba,’ Jackson said looking at the group. ‘I cannot say for sure, but it must be the infested hyenas.’
‘Yes, but the group is a lot smaller,’ Chilemba said.
‘They are gaining quickly, brother. We will need to pick up the pace,’ Jackson said.
‘Move out everyone and keep focused,’ Chilemba said.
Twenty minutes later the lead man shouted, pointing ahead. ‘Village.’
The group carefully approached what was another abandoned village. This one was larger than most in the area, with more round mud huts and old concrete buildings. Many of the premises had been used as small shops, but the only thing that seemed to call them home were a few feral dogs that nervously ran away. A group of crows were noisily perched on one of the empty shop balconies, squawking down at the approaching men.
‘Split up, men, and search every shop. Make sure it is all clear. Move swiftly, my warriors.’
Jackson had gone ahead down the narrow main street and come to a stop under an old dilapidated post office sign.
Walking up to Jackson, Chilemba said. ‘I think we have been running from these hyenas for long enough. We ambush them here. Deploy the men, from the middle of the village to the far end. We will let the yellow cowards come in, and when they start to look through all these places, we will kill them all.’
‘Yes, brother. It is time for the snake to strike,’ Jackson replied.
‘You and I will be in the last building. We can block the way for them in case they try to escape through the town,’ Chilemba said. ‘Go and tell the men.’
• • •
Chilemba and Jackson were kneeling in an old abandoned hut with a perfect view of the gang of men as they came up to the village perimeter. The group were all dressed in a similar fashion to Chilemba’s men, in trousers of different shades of green and brown, sleeveless shirts and large green packs on their backs. They chatted for a minute and looked surprisingly relaxed. Then they spread out and slowly entered the trap.
‘They are being careless,’ Jackson whispered.
‘Look how heavy they are breathing. The strain of the chase has dulled their minds.’
The wind, which had been gusting all day, picked up again. Jackson turned around just as a mountainous wall of sand blew towards the village. With the severe droughts and lack of rain in the last ten years, sandstorms were a frequent tribulation for all who lived in central Africa. They could last anywhere from a few seconds to half a day.
Chilemba and Jackson grabbed their scarves from around their necks and brought them up to cover their nose and mouth. They slipped their dark glasses back over their eyes so that they could see, and Chilemba pulled Jackson closer. ‘If this lasts, it will blind them as they come towards us. Get ready to attack, no shots fired. Go, my brother.’
Chilemba and Jackson slowly stepped out of the small hut, their weapons drawn, and then shouldered in the storm, as they moved. The sandblasted against their uncovered arms, stinging like the bites of a thousand bees. In a low crouch, they moved along a grey concrete wall, then approached two of the gang members who were huddled in the main street. They clearly had nothing to shield themselves with and both had their arms up, covering their faces as they knelt on the floor.
Chilemba kicked the man nearest to
him and viciously brought his machete down on the man’s neck. With a second strike, he slipped the sharpened weapon across the surprised man’s throat. Jackson slammed the butt of his AK47 onto the top of the second man’s head, and then slipped his hunting knife out and stabbed the man in his back, piercing the heart.
Jackson grabbed Chilemba’s arm and shouted. ‘It is getting worse. We will need to wait this out.’
Chilemba pointed to the nearby frame of a building. They huddled together and slowly moved towards it. The mass of blowing sand blocked out the sun, and it grew darker by the second. It would have been easy to get separated out in the open, so they slipped down a side alley. Both men reached up and climbed onto a low hanging lean-to, then in a single movement, they pulled themselves up onto the crude corrugated roof. The ferocious humming sound increased in volume as the sand was blasted against the ramshackle, metal and wooden, building facades. They huddled down against each other and covered themselves as best they could against the sand that filled every nook and cranny.
Voices below them stirred the two men into action again, as they realised three of the gang members were standing just beneath their position with their weapons raised, trying to scan the empty main road through the curtain of sand. They were more prepared than the two Chilemba and Jackson had killed, and had scarves wrapped around their heads.
‘It seems they have killed four of our brothers,’ one shouted.
‘Yes, comrade, but we have carved up six of theirs. I think the rest of them have run like cowardly jackals,’ another replied.
Jackson grabbed his hunting knife, only to have Chilemba calmly place his hand on his friend’s shoulder and shake his head.
Chilemba slid to the edge of the roof and felt his grip tighten on his machete. The three gang members were leaning against the wall that supported the roof. Anger in him demanded that they kill them, but instinct kept nagging at him. They should wait out the sandstorm and then decide.
‘Like old jackals, they have run under the cover of the storm. All their tracks will now be covered for miles, comrade,’ said the third of the gang members.
‘There are only six of them left, let them run away with their tails between their mangy legs. Come, the others are waiting for us, let us head back home to Kenya.’
Ten minutes later, the two men slipped off the roof and crouched against the same wall the gang members had leant against. The storm had pushed through, but there was still a fine sand mist that lingered in the vacant street. ‘Why did you stop me, Chilemba? I could have slit all their throats.’
‘Maybe, Jackson, but they could also have killed us. They have left us an opening to escape, and although we could have done battle with them, it was wiser to use the gift we were granted. I am tired of people chasing us, are you not?’
‘Yes, I am, brother, but did you hear how they insulted us?’
‘Words, Jackson, only words. We have better things that await us now. Let them say all they want about us. We will laugh at them when we get to Europe and are free of all this violence.’
Chapter 9
Phoenix Council Chamber, Canary Wharf, London, England, UK - 2028
Christina knocked firmly on the wooden chamber door, straightening her black business suit. It was getting a little threadbare around the edges but was the last decent one she had. The doors were opened by two menacing GGC guards who stared at her before moving aside.
The Phoenix Chamber resembled an old parliament debating room, with dark teak and mahogany wood panelling on all four walls. The long Grand Founders’ bench and table ran along the furthest wall, with all the ministers’ red leather upholstered chairs arranged in a semi-circle around the Founders.
Several manila folders were tucked under Christina’s arm as she walked up to the two men who were in conversation at the Founders’ table. She stopped in front of them and took a deep breath.
‘Ministers,’ she greeted them as the men got to their feet and offered her a seat in front of the table. Lord Butler and Andrei Kirilenko both had the serious and slightly gaunt look of men in power, men with a lot to ponder.
‘Minister Kirilenko and I have reviewed the files you sent earlier and had noted the summaries you prepared on each of the five candidates. We agree with your recommendation that Kyle Gibbs could be an ideal candidate,’ Lord Butler said. ‘I know this man’s work and have long wanted to get him on board. I think his skills will suit our operations.’
‘You know this man?’ Christina asked.
Lord Butler looked across to Andrei, then back to her. ‘Sorry, my dear. I am a little tired, and I misspoke. I meant to say that I had seen his file before and discussed it with Markus. That’s how I know about him.’
Christina smiled. ‘That’s okay, Lord Butler. Although I am not sure if you have heard, there has been a development regarding Sergeant Gibbs in the past few hours. It appears that he and other prisoners have taken control of the prison ship they are incarcerated on and will only negotiate with a senior minister. On that basis, I think it would be wise to withdraw him as a candidate…’ Her voice tapered away as she caught Andrei Kirilenko smiling at Lord Butler.
‘Lord Butler? Am I missing something here?’
Lord Butler looked back at her. ‘Christina, we have an urgent requirement to establish a Phoenix Guard in France in the short term. As I said in my last Council briefing, there are two nuclear sites, both still producing massive amounts of energy, which are still independently run by provinces and local mayors. We need to be able to support the transition of those two plants into the resource portfolio of the GGC.’
‘Right, so by support, you mean to force them to comply,’ Christina said. ‘And what does that have to do with Kyle Gibbs?’
‘Christina, we have to bring these plants into a centralised control mechanism to make sure we can protect and preserve the assets and resources,’ Andrei Kirilenko said.
‘This Sergeant Gibbs has led SAS teams into battle and was involved in protecting our resources for the government before he was convicted of manslaughter,’ Lord Butler said as he looked up from the folder in front of him.
‘To engineer an attempted escape and then to take control of one of those hellhole ships, tells me that he is a determined and resourceful man. We need someone with those qualities to go to France and secure those resources for the GGC,’ he said.
‘So, we’re endorsing the fact that a murderer, and now a kidnapper, will lead other criminals into a foreign country and steal valuable resources on behalf of the GGC,’ Christina said.
Both men looked at her for a second or two before Lord Butler let out one of his raucous laughs.
‘See, Christina, this is why we have you on our staff. To tell it as it is, screw the political diplomacy.’
Andrei nodded and said with his Russian accent. ‘What you have deduced is true, but we live in tough times, and we use anyone or any means, to get the world back on track.’
‘It’s an acceptable means to an end?’ Christina said.
‘Correct, and besides, doesn’t Kyle Gibbs deserve a second chance in life?’ Lord Butler asked.
‘Fine. Where do we go from here then?’ Christina asked.
‘Well, Minister Kohler and I will be taking a plane to Paris to facilitate the initial meetings with the nuclear plant governing parties, to try and work out a diplomatic solution. Markus and his guard will be coming with us for protection,’ Lord Butler said.
‘I will make contact with the London warlord on your behalf, a man by the name of Thompson Scott. Can you arrange for him to escort you to Wales and to provide transport to get Sergeant Gibbs on board?’
‘You want me to lead the negotiation with Gibbs?’
‘Yes, Christina. Offer him whatever it takes, even his freedom with a clean record as a last resort, but get him on board,’ Lord Butler said. ‘Good luck and keep Minister Kirilenko apprised of the progress via the satphone.’
‘Thank you for the opportunity,’ she said
and bowed slightly. Christina smiled as she walked away from them towards the two guards who manned the doors. She felt a distinct spring in her step as she walked down the empty corridor outside the chamber. Then the feeling was ripped away from her as a tall blonde figure approached in the opposite direction.
‘Hello, Christina,’ Markus said. The tall blonde captain was in full Phoenix Guard uniform, and she felt her heart flutter for a brief second. ‘I am glad I caught you before I left.’
‘Yes, what is it?’ she said. The second the words left her lips she regretted them, as his eyes narrowed and his defences seemed to rise.
‘Have a safe trip to Wales and be careful.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied.
‘I still don’t think it should be you.’
‘Stop it, Markus. Enough is enough,’ she said. ‘You need to deal with whatever issues you have and maybe me being away for a while will give you time to think about it.’
He shook his head and walked past her.
‘Markus?’ she said. ‘One more thing. Did you ever give Lord Butler copies of the candidates’ files and discuss any of the options?’
‘No. He never wanted to see the files. He trusts my judgement.’
‘You’ve never discussed Kyle Gibbs with him?’
Christine looked into his blue eyes and saw a flicker of panic. He shifted his stance and looked keen to leave. ‘No, I have never discussed Gibbs with him. Why?’
‘No real reason.’
• • •
An hour later, she was back in her office, reading through Sergeant Gibbs’s file again. He was no angel, but his career was littered with commendations, and he seemed to have a spotless military record up until his military discharge and trial. Not much information was available on his civilian trial as all police and court data had been destroyed.
The GGC had extensive resources working on gathering information from the old databases and data institutions that had existed over the previous thirty years. Many no longer existed, and although some of their computer systems were salvaged after the first flood, it was taking a long time to access them.
The Journey of Kyle Gibbs Box Set Page 30
