by Jo Black
‘So these birds then,’ Sooty asked. ‘Are they seriously expected to protect us?’
‘No, they’re just ceremonial. Purely for show. Everyone knows they’re Gadaffi’s personal guard, you’d have to be deranged to so much as look at them the wrong way let alone offer a firefight,’ Nish replied.
‘Do you reckon they are any good?’
‘All virgins by account, apart from Muammar’s interactions. I wouldn’t go there...’
‘I meant in the military capacity.’
‘No idea. Well Sooty, ten out of ten for enthusiasm, but you’ve made a right shit-show of these defences. You wouldn’t keep the Army Cadets out with that lot, let alone a hundred of our ex horde. Still, doubt they’ll come now. We best get an early night.’ Alex headed back to the camp. ‘Any word from the Tripoli expedition?’
‘No, do you think they’ve pissed off as well?’ Sooty asked.
‘I hope not, Gadaffi had a few choice words to say about the desertion. They should be thankful I’m not feeling in an especially biblical hell and damnation mood.’
‘So what did he say?’ Sooty asked.
‘Usual rant about Jewish conspiracies, bankers, The Royal Family. Nothing new. Although he did mention Saddam, and suggested we were implicated in whatever is going on.’
‘Do you think that was credible or just the usual paranoia?’ Sooty asked.
‘I think he might be on the money on this one. What we’ve got to do with it, I don’t know. I’m sure we’ll find out. Sleep with your knives under your pillow in any case. It’s going to be a long wait for dawn.’
Alex retired to his tent early, Nish and Sooty elected to join him and passed the time in the corner with a quiet game of poker. At a little past one a.m. there was a shrill wolf-whistle call from one of the posted sentries.
‘Go and see,’ Alex said. Nish nodded at Sooty. Sooty got up and put his head out of the tent.
‘Vehicle convoy approaching,’ Flat Eric yelled across.
‘Ours?’ Sooty asked.
‘I don’t know.’
Sooty returned to the tent. ‘Vehicle convoy. Not sure if ours.’
Alex and Nish looked at each other. They picked up their side arms and headed outside the tent. They watched as five Land Rover Defenders drew short of the defensive perimeter line and stopped. The lead Land Rover pulled forward ahead of the others slightly. The headlights turned off on all of them. Devreaux got out from the front passenger seat of the lead Land Rover. ‘We come in peace brothers, will you treat with us?’
‘Friendlies,’ Alex yelled across. ‘Let them in.’ Alex walked towards the group, turning to Nish with a surprised look. ‘That was unexpected.’
‘News is travelling fast,’ Nish replied.
The rest of the occupants of the Land Rovers got out. Sousa, Laurent, and most surprisingly for Alex: Charles Vane. Their escorts got out after them and formed an outward facing perimeter as the quartet made their way across the D.I.Y camp fortifications to where Alex, Nish, and Sooty met them.
‘We heard you boys could use some company,’ Devreaux said in his usual lazy Louisiana heavy drawl, a boyish grin revealing perfect white dentistry. ‘Good to see you brother,’ Devreaux gave Alex a warm embracing backslapping hug.
‘We weren’t expecting you.’
‘Well, we’re in town for the arms fair, all kind of rumours flying around the bars of Benghazi so we figured we’d come and hear it for ourselves.’
‘Is this a pleasure visit, or are you here on Guild business? I see you brought friends...’ Alex nodded suspiciously at Vane.
‘Oh don’t mind Charlie. We brought you supper. If I’d known you had company I’d have brought wine,’ Devreaux said grinning and gesturing at the guards.
‘Courtesy of The Colonel, I don’t think they drink.’
‘Shame. They sure do look fine in those uniforms. I do love a pretty girl with an AK.’ Devreaux turned back to his entourage. ‘Boys, bring the dinner and refreshments. Shall we retire to the mess tent?’ Alex gestured towards the tent. ‘Love what you’ve done with the place, very post-apocalyptic chic. Those big spikes really will fuck the zombies up.’
‘Not much else, seems Sooty here failed woodwork.’
‘Look fierce though eh?’
The group made their way into the tent. ‘So what do we owe the pleasure?’ Alex asked.
‘Just Guild brethren looking up some dear old friends.’
‘Nothing to do with our Quartermaster’s recent departure?’
‘Let’s eat and drink first, we’ve got plenty of time to talk shop after some chow. Been a long time brother, let’s at least catch-up before we get down to it.’
Dinner was served; the lack of small talk and uncomfortable silence wasn’t lost on Devreaux. ‘So. I hear you nailed The Butcher. Bravo on a job well done. Another big name for the trophy cabinet.’
‘We’ve still got his head if you want to mount it,’ Nish said.
‘I think we’ve got some room left on the wall between a few other famous faces,’ Devreaux said with a knowing smile. ‘You boys have been quite busy.’
Alex didn’t give anything away, still eyeing up Vane suspiciously. ‘What about you Vane, how’s Group Thirteen doing without Nish’s steadying hand?’
‘We do what we can to preserve his legacy,’ Vane replied. ‘The way things seem to be going in your outfit I’ve been expecting him to be coming back looking for a job. Judging by the spartan facilities here, it seems the rumour mill is true — for once.’
‘We’re just having a spring clean,’ Alex replied.
‘Little late in the season...’
‘All right Charles...that’s enough fishing for now,’ Devreaux said with a smile.
‘So this isn’t a social call.’
‘Consider it a courtesy call Alex. Word’s reached The Guild your Russian charter is being rescinded in the next fourteen days. First time in its history over how many centuries? You had to expect we’d sit up and take notice.’
‘Time’s are changing Gabe. The Guild’s gravitas is not what it once was. Kings are replaced by politicians, and privateering is becoming a corporate affair.’
‘Ain’t that the truth,’ Devreaux said. ‘The writing has been on the wall; we’ve all sensed it. Three millennia The Mercenaries’ Guild has served generations of kings, tyrants, and leaders. All come and gone, and yet we endured. Just the prostitutes, the thieves, and us. Now our very survival is under threat. That’s why we’re here.’
‘What about you Charles? You here as a Guild brother, or an opportunist gathering intelligence for a client,’ Alex asked Vane.
‘You shouldn’t need to ask Alex. I know we’ve had our differences, conflicts of interest, but my commitment to everything this Guild stands for is absolute. My client is a contract, not my master. I do not serve at his pleasure.’
‘The fate that has become you Alex threatens us all,’ Souza said. ‘The very world in which we operate is being torn apart, and the rules we operate by are no longer being respected, because we are no longer valued. They see us as a relic from the era of private armies funded by kings of the old world, and has no place in their New World Order of shareholder value driven conflicts.’
Alex drew a deep breath. ‘So...’
‘The Guild must work together if we are to survive this threat, only if we stand together can we remind those that would seek to cast us aside of our true power,’ Devreaux said. ‘We’re here as your brothers. Merriweather is acting against you, contrary to The Guild’s objectives. If he challenges you, he challenges all of us. We’re here to ensure you survive the night so we can restore your capability, and you can put your house back in order.’
‘As you’ve learned, we no longer have a house. We are but nomads in the desert.’
‘We’re calling a special meeting of the full permanent nine members of The Guild as soon as it can be arranged, in the mean time I have enough votes at this table to authorise special measures to
protect your position.’
‘What are you offering?’ Alex asked.
‘The Swiss Guard will honour their arrangement to provide immunity to you and your remaining men, you’ll all be granted diplomatic privilege under the reformation agreement. Souza assures me that his king still values our services, and your home, all our homes there will be protected.’
‘That’s reassuring.’
‘In terms of The Company, I can authorise a drawdown of fifty million Swiss Francs from the insurance fund to cover your immediate situation. You’ll be indemnified up to the full one billion once we have a full vote at the next meeting. What your brothers choose to contribute to your cause is between you all. The Guild will grant any actions taken by any member in support of another member immunity from judicial review. Charles?’
Vane leant forward. ‘I came personally, because I want you to know this came from me. I had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t aware of it. I wasn’t involved in it. I want your assurance there will be no reprisals against me, my family, or my company for what happened to Zara. I give you my word on oath as a Guild brethren this was not done by my hand or with my knowledge.’
‘You have my word. There will be no repercussions,’ Alex replied.
‘Smythe took Zara. This I believe you know already. Client privilege requires I cannot disclose the reasons why without special sanction by full council vote, but since there has been a clear breach of oath, and conflict of interest, I will assist in her safe recovery. I can tell you she is alive, and she is well, to my last knowledge of her status.’
‘You know where she is?’
‘I do, at least where she was held when the information was current. Smythe has his suspicions of my loyalty; I’m not privy to everything he is doing. I believe I’m about the share the fate from Smythe that Mikhail visited on you. I should warn you, the facility is managed on behalf of The Agency. If you go, you need to leave no trace.’
‘What’s your current capability Alex?’ Devreaux asked.
‘You are looking at it. We sent eight others that remained into Tripoli to try and recover our transport and some supplies, but there has been no word.’
‘You don’t need to worry. We sent them over to our camp to collect some contributions to your efforts,’ Laurent said.
‘Merci Laurent.’
‘So you have ten of your best guys. We’ve got you covered for tactical gear and small arms. Anything else you’ll need to pick up at the arms bazaar tomorrow,’ Devreaux said.
‘Gadaffi got us an invite. He gave us a credit note for a hundred million each, some camels and the women. He wasn’t clear what it was for, beyond fulfilling a contract to kill whoever assassinates him. Which could be problematic given the likely candidates.’
‘Well you tuck that away for a rainy day. You won’t have to cash it in until the old boy goes, and he probably won’t remember he gave it you he’s got so much moolah sloshing around this sandpit. Did you get any useful nuggets of intel from him you’d care to share with your brethren?’ Devreaux asked.
‘The one you all likely know, they’re moving against Saddam.’
‘The calm before the storm. Everything will change; the big Yankee contractors will sweep in and take all the work. Which leaves us...’ Devreaux looked at each of them in turn. ‘We’ll cross that bridge. Let’s focus on the matter in hand, the safe return of our brethren’s dearly betrothed however so estranged.’
Vane handed over a sealed manila folder. ‘This is everything we have. Satellite photos, co-ordinates, staffing rotas, principals, room plans.’ Alex took the envelope.
‘Merriweather has opened up shop. He’ll be punting your merchandise at the bazaar tomorrow, and looking to pick up clients. Just so you know,’ Devreaux added.
‘Who saw that coming,’ Alex said looking Nish.
‘He won’t last in this business, he doesn’t have the capital base of the big corporate outfits, and he doesn’t have the connections Guild membership affords. He’ll find himself without a seat.’
‘Don’t underestimate him, I did. It was costly. Assuming we get through this, where does it leave us?’
‘The Company we can re-capitalise. Loans, insurance pay outs — that we can deal with. The situation for the Russia House appears to be more complicated. The Guild would be loathed to lose such a powerful seat at the table, and it would leave a sizeable power vacuum given their sphere of influence. It is to be expected that if you cannot re-ingratiate yourself with a new sponsor then a new challenger to your seat may appear, and it is unlikely you’d hold the permanent position without such a major power. If we could find an alternate, someone from the far-east, you’d retain associated membership but...’
‘Quite a fall from grace...’
‘Alternatively we could broker a peaceful transition of leadership, and arrange your retirement in Switzerland. Perhaps the prudent option so everyone can save face when the dust settles from this current chain of events. Something to consider. But that’s for the future, let us focus on the here and the now, and ensure the safe return of your dearly beloved.’
‘You certainly were blessed with a Dragon’s luck,’ Nish said as he entered Alex’s field tent. Alex looked up from the documents Vane had given him.
‘They’re just protecting their own interests. We’re only powerful as a group. If one falls it threatens all.’
‘Well, fifty million Swiss. That keeps us in the fight a little longer.’
‘Stay the executioner’s blade another day.’
‘It won’t come to that.’
‘I’ll be the first to lose the Russia House in history, that’s not a legacy.’
‘Political winds change quickly in the Kremlin. They’ll soon have another problem they want you to solve. You have the blessing of The Guild, even pirate pants himself Mister Vane is co-operating,’ Nish said.
‘Do you believe him?’
‘He’s mercurial. And he has an axe to grind against you, but he got the big seat already, and that was a long time ago. I think he’s afraid of the coming storm as much as everyone else is.’
‘Perhaps. Smythe’s grasp over Group Thirteen runs very deep, as we both found to our cost. Its loyalty to The Guild over such influence cannot be assured.’
‘So where are we headed?’
‘Tunisia,’ Alex said as he tossed the folder across to Nish.
Nish studied it briefly. ‘What’s your plan?’
‘We’re going to make a statement.’
‘Of what?’ Nish asked.
‘Of intent.’ A fierce glow radiated from Alex’s eyes. ‘If our enemies think we are done, we will give them a timely reminder of exactly how capable we still are, however so wounded.’
Nish smiled and pointed at Alex. ‘And that is why the Kremlin will not evict you from our house.’
27
Technically it was the Libyan International Security Trade Show, but everyone who attended knew it better as the Terrorist Arms Bazaar; given the lack of any sort of bona-fide defence supplier with a stall, a clientele of every sanctioned and illegal arms buyer on the planet, and a Libyan export desk that comprised of two men stamping any end-user certificate put in front of them in return for a suitcase full of cash. There wasn’t much in the way of corporate glossy brochures or pretty stand girls, just rusting crates of Cold War era armaments and war-battered heavy arms sold to the highest bidder in a variety of currencies from straightforward cash, to conflict diamonds, or political favours.
Alex’s entourage arrived, causing quite a stir by the escort of Gadaffi’s personal guard, a public display to all the guests in Libya that Alex was the most favoured V.I.P of all attendees, and whatever thought they had of taking advantage of his current predicament, undertaking such actions on Libyan soil would not be tolerated. The stamp of regime approval on Alex’s company ensured all those in need of such things quickly flocked to avail themselves of an audience with The Dragon to attempt procurement of his services, whi
ch were now so clearly, and quickly, re-financed that the rumours around the hotel bars of Tripoli had clearly been incorrect. The head to toe Special Forces operator wares that his dirty dozen now sported reinforced the show of strength. The most Gucci of P.M.C kit, all being fully specced U.S made authentic M4 carbines with full bells and whistles — kit that was simply too hard to come by for most of the bazaar’s clientele, who were forced to make do with the readily available, if less gun porn-ish, AK47 staple.
Alex brushed off most of the approaches quickly, aware few could afford the fees hiring a full Guild member entailed, and any work of interest was brokered not amidst the tat bazaar of the sand pit’s arms fair, but at state security level with presidential seal’s of approval. Even down on their luck as they were, with a fresh capital injection Alex wasn’t quite ready to sully his company’s impeccable reputation by picking up the trash. He stopped briefly to renew his acquaintance with the current reigning warlord of Somalia, before heading straight to the behind the velvet ropes V.I.P enclosure where only the big boys could afford to play.
‘Fifty isn’t going to last long in here,’ Nish remarked.
‘You’d be surprised, this stuff is all the retired garbage, it’s about one step away from the crusher. Don’t be fooled by the shiny, the paint is probably still wet.’ Alex made his way to the hanger that had caught his interest where under the shade sat a Mig-29 Fulcrum Fighter Bomber, and a Hind Mi-24 gunship, both in full desert camo paint, predictably still glossy and not quite dry. Sat behind the desk, a couple of smart-suited bum-fluff-moustached businessmen, flanked by bored looking translators. Their eyes lit up at the prospect of the first financially capable client opportunity of the day, when Alex’s entourage (complete with red-beret’d guard of honour) trooped in. The businessmen immediately jumped to their feet.
