Ben turned to Dr Patel. ‘His clothes haven’t been washed here by the hospital, Doctor?’
‘No, no, they have not left his body.’
Ben turned to Benjamin. ‘Show me how you held the gun, when Colonel Zuba made you fire it.’
Benjamin sat up as best he could, and with his left free arm, he attempted to mime holding the AK-47 against his side. Then he made a sound to imitate the sound of the firing of the assault rifle. ‘Brrrrrrrr!’
‘Are you left-handed or right-handed?’ asked Ben.
Benjamin frowned. ‘I am right-handed. Why?’
Ben nodded to himself. ‘Okay. Everyone step away from the bed.’
‘Do as he says,’ Charlie instructed. He had worked with Ben long enough to never question his judgement while on ops.
As the doctor, the superintendent, the lieutenant and the rest of the GRRR party stepped back, Ben dropped to one knee in front of Caesar, who stood patiently at his side. Ben unclipped the EDD’s leash and pointed to the youth on the bed. ‘Caesar, seek on!’
Caesar padded to the side of the bed and put his nose over the edge to within a few centimetres of the youth. He sniffed Benjamin’s right side and then eased his rear end onto the floor. There he sat, staring intently at the young man.
‘What is the dog doing?’ said Benjamin.
Charlie smiled. ‘That, my friend, is Caesar’s signature.’
‘His what?’ said Superintendent Welle.
‘Caesar has picked up the scent of explosives,’ Ben explained. ‘As I suspected, Benjamin has gunshot residue on his clothes. I believe his story. I think that Zuba did genuinely send him here with the letter from Lucky.’ Dropping to one knee, Ben pulled the labrador’s head into a cuddle and patted his side. ‘Well done, Caesar! Well done, mate!’
In response, Caesar wagged his tail with delight and licked Ben on the cheek, before returning his intense gaze to young Benjamin.
‘So, Zuba was at Ugali,’ said Charlie.
‘And he may still be there,’ Casper Mortenson remarked. ‘With Lucky and the other hostages.’
Charlie nodded. ‘We might have to pay a visit to Ugali. The rest of you stay here while I get on secure comms with Papa.’
Taking Superintendent Welle and Chris Banner with him, Charlie quickly departed for the police headquarters.
While the GRRR men were waiting at the hospital, they spoke with the young patients, trying to put them at ease and cheer them up. Baz proved particularly adept at getting smiles out of the children – he didn’t have to say a word; he just pulled faces. Caesar was the most popular visitor, with the youngsters eager to pat him. Caesar greeted them with a wagging tail, often licking their outstretched hands, which brought giggles of pleasure. Ben noticed one particular boy of twelve or thirteen who was lying in his bed and looking at the ceiling, taking no interest in what was going on around him. He seemed impervious to the laughter and squeals of delight that were coming from his fellow patients.
‘What’s wrong with that young bloke?’ Ben asked Dr Patel, pointing to the boy.
‘That one has no physical ailment or injury,’ the doctor replied. ‘His is a very, very sad case. He saw his parents drown during a storm on the lake, after which he was forced to become a soldier in the Revolutionary Army of Tanzania. Somehow, he succeeded in escaping the clutches of Colonel Zuba and his men. He was found wandering aimlessly before he was brought here to the hospital. He has not spoken a word since he arrived. And if we do not feed him, he will not feed himself. The boy simply lies there, day in, day out. He is traumatised, and I am afraid there is no form of treatment that we can give him for that.’
‘What’s his name?’ asked Ben.
The doctor consulted a list of patients. ‘This boy is called Ephrem.’
Leading Caesar to the youngster’s bedside, Ben encouraged the labrador to put his front paws up on the bed. ‘Caesar, say hello to Ephrem.’
Caesar looked at Ben for a moment, as if to say, What’s wrong with this boy, boss? Then he nuzzled young Ephrem with his nose, emitting a concerned whine as he did. When there was no reaction from the boy, Caesar put his front paws on the side of the bed. He then reached out and touched the boy’s arm with his right paw, letting out another whine.
Slowly, Ephrem’s head turned and his eyes fell on the labrador. Caesar licked the back of his hand. ‘Nice dog,’ he said softly. And then he began to gently stroke Caesar’s head.
‘He spoke!’ exclaimed Dr Patel. ‘The boy spoke! That is amazing! Not in a month has this boy said a word. It has taken your dog to open his mouth.’
Ben smiled. ‘I’m not surprised. There’s a hospital in western Sydney that uses specially trained dogs as hospital visitors for children. The dogs do wonders for the spirits of sick kids, and have boosted their recovery times enormously. Look at Caesar – he knows that Ephrem isn’t happy, and wants to help him.’
On hearing his name mentioned, Caesar looked around at Ben. He quickly returned his attention to Ephrem, who now managed a faint smile as he looked at the chocolate labrador.
‘Quite amazing,’ said Dr Patel, as he watched the interaction between dog and boy. ‘If I had not seen it for myself, I would not have believed it.’
‘There’s an element of trust between children and dogs that seems to trigger this sort of reaction,’ said Ben. ‘Dogs don’t judge us, they just love us. And as you can see, Doctor, dog therapy can be the best medicine.’
Charlie and Chris hurried to the Seahawk helicopter waiting across the road from the police headquarters. Getting on the chopper’s radio, Charlie called Major Jinko aboard Canberra.
‘Papa, we have good reason to believe that Game Boy is, or was, at X-ray Two,’ said Charlie. ‘Permission for insertion at X-ray Two? Over.’
‘Wait, Oscar Zulu One,’ Jinko replied. After a pause, the major said, ‘Oscar Zulu One, we have intercepted a military band VHF transmission from your area. We think it’s from Bullseye, to a receiver named Zhu in the area of Kilo Twenty-four. Do you copy? Over.’
Charlie unfolded his operational map and pinpointed grid K24. That grid covered Dar es Salaam. ‘Copy that, Papa. Zhu, at Kilo Twenty-four. Over.’
‘The message was in plain English,’ advised Jinko. ‘The sender asked the receiver to confirm that the contraband shipment had been seized and destroyed, which he did. Over.’
Charlie smiled with satisfaction. ‘Good. Bullseye will be desperate for dough now. Do we know who this receiver was? This Zhu character? Over.’
‘Baz reports that Zhu is a Chinese port official at Kilo Twenty-four. Over.’
‘Copy that. Where do we proceed from here? Over.’
‘All Oscar Zulus will proceed to X-ray Two to locate Game Boy. Over.’
‘By heelo? Over.’
‘There’s no time to send you Sally Two. Sally One will collect Oscar Zulu Two and team.’ Oscar Zulu Two was Sergeant Duke Hazard’s codename. ‘You and your people find yourselves a boat. Let me know your ETA at X-ray Two. Over.’
‘Roger to that. Finding a boat. Over and out.’
Josh looked at Kelvin Corbett lying on the floor. Josh had just thrown him to the mat like a rag doll, and now Kelvin was crying.
‘I’m sorry, Kelvin,’ said Josh, sounding slightly exasperated. ‘I’m only doing what Sergeant Kasula taught us to do.’
‘Get up, Kelvin,’ Sergeant Kasula instructed. ‘Do what I’ve trained you to do. You’ve been bone lazy.’
‘It’s not fair!’ Kelvin sobbed, dragging his knees up into his chest and refusing to budge. ‘Everyone picks on me – my dad, my mum and the school.’ He glared at Sergeant Kasula. ‘You too!’
‘I don’t pick on you, son,’ Sergeant Kasula said with a sigh. ‘You picked on Josh, remember? That’s why you’re here.’
‘I hate being different from everyone else!’ Kelvin blurted.
‘Different?’ said Sergeant Kasula. ‘How are you different?’
‘I’m taller than everyone in m
y class. I stand out.’
‘Yes, but –’
‘I’m a year older than everyone else in my class, too.’
‘That’s because you had to repeat a year,’ said Josh.
‘That was because I don’t read all that good. And everyone stares at me and laughs at me. They think I’m stupid.’
‘You’re not stupid,’ said Josh, sitting down beside Kelvin. ‘But you’ve got to stop giving up all the time. Let’s just do this. If you did what Sergeant Kasula taught us, you’d be throwing me, not the other way around. And we could all go home.’
Josh had been tempted to let Kelvin throw him a few times, just to get these sessions back on track, but something in him wouldn’t let him do that. A voice in his head told him that Kelvin had to earn his successes.
Kelvin looked at him. ‘I don’t give up all the time!’ he snivelled.
‘Well, what are you doing now?’
‘I’m … I’m …’
‘Giving up,’ said Josh.
‘Okay,’ said Sergeant Kasula. ‘I’m sure as heck not giving up on you, Kelvin. But maybe I’ve been approaching this the wrong way. I’ve got an idea.’ Reaching down, he offered Kelvin his hand. ‘Let’s try something different.’
As the prisoners sat in their hut, bathed in perspiration, they could hear the rumbling sound of a large boat engine growing nearer.
‘Is that it, Ranger Lucky?’ Koinet asked, sounding excited. ‘Is that a boat bringing soldiers to rescue us?’
‘I’m not sure, Koinet,’ Lucky replied. He peered through a slit in the corrugated iron wall.
‘You said that they would rescue us,’ said Koinet, his voice full of hope. ‘Now they have come, yes?’
But Lucky could see little, and learned nothing of what was happening.
Then came the sound of the hut door being unlocked. The door opened, and the two regular guards stood peering in at them.
‘Out, rascal rangers,’ said one. ‘Out!’
When Lucky and his five companions emerged from their cramped quarters, they could see a vessel approaching the beach. This was no rescue craft. This was the aged blue landing craft that had brought them all to the island.
Tears began to roll down Koinet’s cheeks. ‘You said they would rescue us!’ he wailed at Lucky. ‘You said we would be able to go home to our families.’
‘Keep quiet, Koinet!’ old Julius urged. ‘Say nothing of what Ranger Lucky told us.’
‘Keep quiet yourself, old man!’ Koinet snapped. ‘I have had enough of all this. They will never let prisoners go home. They will kill you all.’ He looked at the pair of sentinels. ‘I wish to join you,’ he said.
Both guards looked surprised. ‘What do you mean?’ asked the one named Sirum.
‘I wish to become one of Colonel Zuba’s soldiers.’
‘Koinet, don’t give up now!’ said Lucky.
The young ranger looked at Lucky with a fierce gleam in his eyes. ‘Can you give me a guarantee, Ranger Lucky, that we will be rescued?’
Lucky sighed. ‘Koinet, you know I can’t do that.’
Tonkei, the second guard, guffawed. ‘No one will rescue you, boy.’
‘It is as I thought,’ said Koinet. ‘Then I will be one of you.’
‘You want to join the ranks of the RAT?’ asked Sirum.
‘Yes, if that will mean I am no longer a prisoner,’ Koinet replied.
Sirum shrugged. ‘If that is what you want. We will take you to Colonel Zuba, to see what he says. Any more of you want to become soldiers in the Revolutionary Army of Tanzania?’
The four other rangers looked at each other, and then at Lucky, before they all shook their heads.
‘You come with me,’ Sirum said, grasping Koinet by the arm and pulling him toward the door.
‘Koinet, you are making a big mistake,’ said Julius. He grabbed Koinet’s other arm to prevent him from leaving.
A tug of war ensued as Sirum attempted to drag Koinet out by one arm and Julius tried to hold him back by the other. Tonkei stepped up and bashed Julius on the arm with the butt of his AK-47. Howling in pain, Julius let go of Koinet. Lucky leapt up to help Julius. In the scuffle that followed, Julius was pushed to the ground, and as Lucky bent to protect him, the butt of Sirum’s AK-47 thudded into his skull. Lucky’s hat went flying, and Lucky went down.
With Koinet removed from the hut, both guards levelled their weapons at the inmates.
‘We will shoot if any of you try anything like that again!’ Tonkei declared, partly scared, partly angry.
‘Take it easy, take it easy!’ said Lucky. Instinctively, he put his fingers to his head and felt the sticky blood in his hair.
Sirum picked up Lucky’s akubra. Turning, he placed the hat on Koinet’s head. ‘There, now you wear the boss’s hat,’ he said, grinning.
As Tonkei slammed and locked the door and then stood watch on the remaining prisoners, Sirum took hold of Koinet’s shirt and led him toward Zuba, who was watching the landing craft as it ground on the beach and its front ramp was lowered to the sand.
Inside the hut, Roadga helped Lucky to his feet. ‘Are you all right, Ranger Lucky?’ he asked with concern.
‘I’m fine, thanks. I’ve got a thick skull,’ Lucky assured him, though he could feel the onset of a throbbing headache. He turned his attention to the oldest ranger. ‘How about you, Julius? No broken bones?’
Julius, holding his injured arm, tried to put on a brave face. ‘I do not think anything is broken,’ he said. ‘It is that stupid boy Koinet that I am worried about. He does not know what he has got himself into!’
Villagers at Ugali watched with idle curiosity as an unfamiliar fishing boat came chugging into their cove at twilight. Lieutenant Roy had commandeered it in Mwanza and was now at the wheel. Lying out of sight in the bottom of the wooden craft with other GRRR men, Charlie spoke into the personal radio attached to his bulletproof vest. ‘All Oscar Zulus – go, go, go!’
In seconds, Charlie, Ben, Caesar, Chris and Casper rose up from where they had been hiding below the gunwales. They leapt over the sides and splashed through the shallows. Up the beach they ran, weapons ready for action.
At the same time, in a coordinated move, Duke Hazard and the remainder of the Operation Pink Elephant team, accompanied by Sergeant Simma, entered the village from the southern, inland side. They’d been dropped two kilometres from the village by Sally One and had walked the rest of the way. Otherwise, the sound of the chopper would have been heard in Ugali, alerting Zuba and his men if they’d been in the village. But a thorough search of the village found no sign of the RAT.
‘All clear, Charlie,’ said Sergeant Hazard, once the search was completed. ‘No bad guys.’
‘Okay.’ Charlie shouldered his rifle. ‘Let’s see what the headman has to say.’
Lieutenant Roy now joined them, and, using the local dialect, he questioned the same headman whose cattle compound had been sprayed with bullets by Abraham Zuba. The headman was coy at first, but in the end, after much cajoling, he told Lieutenant Roy what he wanted to know.
‘The headman says that Zuba, his men and the hostages are all out there.’ Lieutenant Roy pointed to the lake’s northern horizon. ‘On an island.’
‘Do you trust this guy?’ said Hazard, nodding to the headman.
‘Not entirely,’ said Roy. ‘But at the moment I think he is more frightened of us than he is of Zuba.’
‘Then, to the island we go,’ said Charlie. ‘Bring the headman with us.’
Aboard Canberra, Major Jinko was trying to keep his temper. On the bridge, bathed in blue light, he was in the middle of a tense conversation with the air division commander, Lieutenant Commander Lockhart, as the other crewmen of the bridge pretended to look the other way.
‘I need that drone over that island,’ Jinko declared, stabbing the air with his index finger. ‘I don’t want my boys going in there blind.’
‘And for the umpteenth time, Major, this ship is not certified for night take-
offs of UAVs. I can’t authorise it. Sorry, no can do.’ Lockhart folded his arms.
‘You landed the drone in the dark!’ Jinko protested. ‘Why can’t you launch it in the dark?’
‘That was different,’ Lockhart came back, sounding increasingly exasperated. He turned to Captain Rixon, who sat in his command chair, looking at one of the monitors. ‘Sir, tell the major that we can’t launch the UAV,’ he said, almost pleadingly.
Jinko looked at the skipper. ‘Well, Captain?’
Captain Rixon sat back in his seat, stretched and sighed. ‘Jinko, I’d like to help you and your men out, but Lockhart is right. We aren’t certified for night UAV operations. It was not something the brass ever envisaged for Canberra.’
‘But you let the drone land on the ship at night,’ Jinko persisted.
‘I had little choice other than to let it land,’ Rixon replied with a helpless shrug. ‘It was either try to land the thing, or ditch it on the drink after you kept it over northern Tanzania in darkness. I had to weigh the consequences of two choices – break the rules and land the UAV at night, something we’d never done before, or let the multi-million dollar Heron run out of fuel and fall into the Indian Ocean. I can live with the consequences of the first. The second could have cost me my command.’
‘Lives may depend on that UAV being in position over my team, Captain,’ said Jinko.
‘I know. And we can launch it at first light – not before. If you want to land your men on that island tonight, you’ll have to tell them to take extra precautions. But they’ll be doing it without the help of the UAV.’
Darkness wrapped around the fishing boat as it eased toward the island which the Ugali headman had identified as Colonel Zuba’s hide-out.
‘Cut the engine,’ Charlie ordered.
Sergeant Simma, at the boat’s wheel, quickly did so. The boat glided to a stop and lay idly on the smooth surface of the lake. All was silent.
‘Okay, Chris, Casper, do your thing,’ Charlie said in a low voice.
Chris Banner and Casper Mortenson, both highly experienced divers, slipped over the side of the boat and into the water. Stripped down to black underpants, each man had a belt circling his waist, with a commando knife and a torch hanging from it. Swimming slowly to minimise noise, the pair made for the island. A hundred metres out from the beach, both men slid under the surface and swam the last leg underwater.
Operation Pink Elephant Page 13
