The Colonel let out a long chortling laugh. Then he stroked his moustache contemplatively. Next he started counting off names, holding up a thumb and fingers for each. He named five senior helicopter flight instructors, three recently retired and two nearing retirement, who might be interested. He suggested that he invite all of them and their wives to a banquet the following evening at the Fernando Air Base Officer’s Club. Rick immediately offered to cover all of the costs for the event.
Then the XO asked, “Where are you staying?”
Rick replied, “Last night we stayed at The Suites at Mount Malarayat, but we checked out.”
“Wait just one sec,” the Colonel said and picked up his phone and made arrangements for Rick and Meital to be given VIP married accommodations at the air base’s Visiting Officers Lodge.
Before he walked them to their car, the XO said, “Don’t worry. I’ll make all the arrangements for the banquet. If none of those five officers are interested personally, then they will at least know of someone who is both qualified and interested.”
After a day and a half of sightseeing on Luzon, with another change of lodging for greater safety, they arrived in formal attire for the banquet, which started at 5 p.m. and lasted all evening. The guests sat around a long table that was set for 14. The Executive Officer and his wife also attended. The officers all wore PAF mess dress uniforms adorned with lots of gold braid, and their wives wore intricately-embroidered colorful Piña Silk Filipiniana gowns, which had never gone out of fashion for formal occasions. Meital wore her wedding dress (sans train), so she looked just as elegant as the Filipinas, although they wore more makeup. Now entering the third trimester of her pregnancy, she showed just a small baby bulge. The food was sumptuous, with five different types of lumpia, two rice dishes, a chicken dish, and copious quantities of otap, bocarillo, puto cheese, palitaw, and minasa. Both lemon water and wine were served with dinner.
Over dinner, Rick and Meital had the chance to talk with all five of the prospective pilots. By pre-arrangement, Rick and Meital shifted places around the table between courses of the four course meal to give them proximity to speak with each of the five pilot officers, who ranged in rank from Capitan (Captain) to Coronel (Colonel). The evening also included lots of toasts. Knowing what was coming, Rick asked that since both he and Meital had “Traveler’s Tummy,” they be allowed to take just tiny sips of wine as they toasted in sequence: The U.S. Air Force, the Ilemi Republic Defense Force, the Philippine Air Force, President of the Philippines, the President of the United States, the President of the Ilemi Republic, and “last but not least,” Igor Ivanovich Sikorsky. Meital noticed that most of the other guests needed to recharge their glasses at least once to complete all of the toasts.
Rick left the Philippines with firm agreements for two candidates -- one available to relocate within a month, and another who would be released from active duty in seven months. They also made arrangements for the base’s pair of UH-60 XXI flight simulators to be made available for sale “at nominal cost” within two years. “Coincidentally,” the XO hinted that he would be interested in a big game safari sometime in the next few years. He said he had always wanted to bag a kudu.
They flew out of Manila on an Airbus bound for Bangkok. The seat next to Rick was occupied by an Australian businessman who had been just behind Rick in the check-in line and had spotted his Ilemi passport.
The man was fascinated and quizzed Rick for nearly an hour. While not blatantly angling for discounted citizenship, he definitely was interested in finding ways that his expertise might benefit the country without relocating there permanently.
Finally Rick said, ”You really should be talking with our Citizenship Through Investment staff. My duties are more geared toward internal development.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“In essence it means lining up the materiel and manpower resources we need to develop our infrastructure and our citizens’ militia.”
The man handed Rick his business card and said, “Thanks for taking the time to answer my questions. Shoot me an e-mail if you need any gravel screening, rock crushing, or conveyor equipment.”
When the Australian left his seat to use the restroom, Meital leaned over and whispered in Rick’s ear, “When he asked you what ‘Internal Development’ meant, you could have said: ‘Running guns and hiring mercenaries,’ but I suppose that the answer you gave him was more diplomatic.”
Rick chuckled and said, “Well, we are diplomats and we’re paid to be diplomatic, darling.”
They stayed at a Holiday Inn with a prominently-placed portrait of the Thai king (The Tenth Rama) in the lobby. There had been a recent change of government -- the fourth military coup in the past 25 years. It seemed like their civilian and military governments alternated like pendulum clock swings. With just two hours’ time difference from the Philippines, they had no jet lag, so they spent a day sightseeing. The streets of the old city within the moat and the city’s four gates were narrow, and many were twisting. The air was humid and hot, and the smell of Thai cooking was pervasive. The “tuk-tuk” sound of motorcycles was constant. In the late afternoon, they started seeing children helping their parents with their work as food, clothing, and handcraft vendors.
That evening they fulfilled a promise to meet Grace Pilcher’s mother. Alan had entrusted eight Canadian Maple Leaf one-ounce gold coins with Rick to give to his mother-in-law to help fund her retirement. Rick had carried the coins in his money belt all the way through his recruiting trip. Because of Thailand’s onerous gold importation ban enacted in 2042, there was a huge demand for gold in Thailand, particularly pure (soft) gold, so Maple Leafs, which were made without a hardener, were the ideal choice. Grace’s mother was a delightful hostess and served them a dinner with several Thai delicacies. Like most Thai homes in cities, her apartment lacked a kitchen, as most meals were bought from street vendors or the local market. The apartment’s main room had just a table, sink, and small refrigerator. She had promised to buy things that were “not too spicy,” but the peppers tested even Rick’s Texan palate.
Chapter 23: Burmese Pythons
“Amateurs talk about tactics, but professionals study logistics.” -- Gen. Robert H. Barrow, USMC Commandant of the Marine Corps in 1980
Chiang-Mai, Thailand -- Early August, Four Years After Declaration of the Caliphate
With a tight travel schedule, the Akinses were able to spend less than 24 hours visiting with Grace Wattanapanit’s mother. Their next stop was Naypyidaw, Myanmar, but they had to fly first to Bangkok, because there were no direct flights to Naypyidaw from Chiang Mai. Rick and Meital had plans to meet a Deep Web contact with whom Rick had been corresponding via TorBox encrypted e-mail for several weeks. He was a Burmese Army general officer who claimed to be able to supply some surplus G3 rifles. The General also wanted to discuss the possible sale of some Burmese-produced light 4WD trucks that were similar to Humvees.
Rick had already been informed via e-mail that the Burmese Army categorized their G3s fully obsolete, since they had been replaced by Israeli Tavors starting in the late 2020s. The majority of the Army’s original arsenal of 35,000 G3s had already been greatly reduced by previous sales to other countries, mostly in the 2030s. But there were still 2,940 rifles warehoused as a standby war reserve that were available.
Rick and Meital were picked up at their hotel by a Burmese Army Lieutenant (the General’s aide) in one of the Humvee clones and driven to the nearby Pyinmana Army headquarters. The Lieutenant spoke hardly any English, so he was mostly silent during the drive.
When they arrived, they were surprised to be greeted by both the General and an elderly Ukrainian émigré heavy industries technocrat, who seemed to be more knowledgeable about the details on the G3s and the vehicles than was the General. This Ukrainian had been adviser to the Myanmar Army for nearly a decade. He spoke passable English. Both of the men were Christians, which proved helpful.
The General’s office
was paneled in teak, with many ornately carved accents. The purchase contract negotiations were slow because everything had to go through a Burmese interpreter, who had difficulty with some of the technical terms. At times they resorted to pointing at illustrations in an HKG3 technical manual.
The main point of contention was that a Tatmadaw (Burmese Armed Forces) directive had stipulated that complete G3 rifles could not be supplied to the Ilemis because of the recent UN arms embargo.
At first, Rick hoped that the directive could be circumvented simply by disassembling the rifles and making two separate purchases three months apart: first for the barreled receiver groups, and subsequently for the bolt carrier groups, stock furniture, and trigger groups. But in the end the Burmese balked at this, insisting that the receivers be first “demilitarized” with bandsaw cuts, and getting nearly 3,000 rifles in the form of parts sets with incomplete receivers would be better than nothing. It would at least provide the Ilemis with a large supply of spare parts to keep their other G3s serviceable for many years.
One of Rick’s key goals was to personally view the G3 rifles. These rifles had been produced for more than 15 years in Burma, on HK tooling, under license. That tooling had been sold and shipped out of Burma in 2034. Rick, Meital, the General, and the Ukrainian were driven to the small arms warehouse at the back end of the base, again in one of the Humvee clones.
Rick was not impressed with the vehicle. It rattled, the seats were uncomfortable, and the automatic transmission shifted unevenly. His discomfort was noticed by the Ukrainian, who said, “No to worry! We can also providing you spare transmission, and technical assistance.”
The warehouse was cavernous but surprisingly well-lit. Both Rick and Meital found it fascinating: Everything in one end of the warehouse was covered in a dusty mold, and nearly all of the crates there looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades. This was the end of the warehouse where the G3s were stored. The Hardigg-style crates were airtight, and their contents (consisting of six green-stocked G3 rifles and 24 magazines per crate) were in fine condition. Rick was pleased to see that their bolt carrier assemblies and bores had been heavily greased before the rifles went into storage. Rick pulled out seven crates at random, some from deep in the stacks, to insure that they were seeing a representative sample of the rifles. They ranged from well-worn training rifles to arsenal new. But generally they were in quite fine condition.
The only disappointment came when they opened a few wooden crates of 20-round HK G3 magazines. These were all German made, either by HK or Rheinmetall. More than two decades of storage in the humid climate had essentially ruined the unwrapped steel magazines, giving them deep pitting and a reddish fuzz of rust that covered most of their exterior. But the crates of aluminum alloy magazines had fared much better. Many of these were still in factory sealed ten-packs that were labeled: “Magazin, Standen”, and “Leichtmetallausführung”. The alloy mags would still nearly all be usable, although some might have rusty wire follower springs in need of replacement. In the end, Rick declined buying any of the steel magazines, but he agreed to buy all 120,000 of the available alloy variety.
Next the Ukrainian showed them another pile of Hardigg cases. These contained 50-round drum magazines for the G3s. Rick did his best to conceal his excitement at the sight of these very scarce 1970s-vintage original HK-made magazines. He was told that there were 7,034 of the drum magazines available, and that nearly all of them had never had been used. Most were still in their sealed factory plastic wrappers. Rick said nonchalantly, “Yeah, we’ll take all of these, too.”
When they got back to the vehicle, the General’s aide had paper towels and waterless hand cleaner available to remove the grease, mold, dust, and grime from their hands. Meital’s clothes were still clean, but Rick’s khaki trousers and nylon shirt were quite grimy, but Rick didn’t mind the grime -- that was all part of the military surplus hunting game, and he was a happy camper.
Rick insisted that the G3 parts sets be re-packed in the hard black plastic shipping containers, and that those cases, along with the hard cases for the drum magazines, would be included in the deal. He also drove a hard bargain, insisting that the Burmese cover the cost of “de-milling” the receivers.
Rick was noncommittal about the purchase of any vehicles, but he wanted to close a deal on both the HKs and the magazines before they left that day. Their negotiations on technical details, shipping arrangements, and price went on through lunch and then into the early the afternoon. Although they first talked in terms of NEuros, the Burmese wanted payment in gold.
Rick gave the General and the Ukrainian each an Ilemi one-ounce Gilmo as samples of how the Burmese Army would receive payment. Rick talked them down to the equivalent of just 150 NEuros per rifle parts set. Begrudgingly, the Burmese agreed to cover cost of shipment as part of the package price. Each time that the Ukrainian stonewalled on price, Rick would mention things like, “But wait, we are just getting parts sets -- not usable rifles,” and… “You know, we are going to have to replace every one of those rust-pitted magazine springs.” His trump card in negotiating came when he asked, “Who else is in the market for HK G3 rifles and accessories? There is not another army on the planet that still issues G3s.”
In the end they settled on a price of 1,280 ounces of gold for the full package, delivered. The terms were: A 20% down payment, 60% after being confirmed by crate count, with random inspection of crates, onboard a bonded freighter before unloading, and 20% upon delivery.
When they got back to their hotel, Rick revealed to Meital that the scarce drum magazines were each worth much more than an HK rifle, and that those would be the real prize purchase. “When Harry finds out about those drums, he is going to be overjoyed. Those are considered collector’s items. Presently, those drums are worth about half a Gilmo each.”
Meital grinned and exclaimed, “So you’re saying that those drum mags, just by themselves, are worth nearly 4,000 Gilmos?”
“Yep.”
After a long pause to smile at each other and then a quiet High Five hand slap, she asked, “What about their Humvee look-alikes? They want to sell them for just 1,800 NEuros each.”
“No. Those would be a logistical and maintenance nightmare. Not only do they use non-standard parts, I suspect that their reliability is, as they say: ‘doobie-dubious.””
Their return trip to the Ilemi was via Singapore, New Delhi, and Nairobi. In Singapore they took a two-day break for relaxation and sightseeing. In New Delhi, they stopped for 20 hours. They had a meeting scheduled with the CEO of the software company RepublicSoft, who had flown in from Mumbai just for the meeting. Rick and Meital were able to negotiate a “metered hours” software writing contract in bartered exchange for Class D Ilemi Citizenship for the CEO, CFO, and CTO of the company. All software development work would be done remotely from Mumbai and Chennai.
The RepublicSoft contract was for developing two families of software for the IRDF: The first was for data mining and cyber warfare; the other was for sensor fusion software. This would integrate data from unattended ground sensors and integrate it with SLAR MTIs and other sensor data from IRDF aircraft in real time. They were also banking on ghosting satellite observation means and planned on hitching a ride on the non-airborne sensors if hacking permitted. This was part of Rick’s recently-approved “Fight smarter, not harder” strategy for the IRDF.
At the same time that Rick and Meital were in India, Colonel Petrus Kamwi was in South Africa completing his lengthy negotiation for the purchase of 48 Badger APCs and a large quantity of spare parts and diagnostic equipment that included 20 crated 480-horsepower Scania Diesel engines.
After bouncing around between five national capitals for seven months, Mark Mtume and his family finally had a break in their busy schedule that allowed them to move their household belongings from Zambia to the Ilemi Republic.
Mark was always practical and unpretentious, so his plan was to move their household goods by himself. He
wanted to make the move all in one trip, so he would need a truck. After several days of inquiries and Internet searches, he finally found what he was looking for: an old 2025 Unimog diesel U4000 DoKa (“Dopple Kabine”). This long-wheelbase crew cab truck had recently been re-engined, with a replacement wiring harness installed at the same time. The truck was being sold by a local office of the French charity Soladarités International. It was only being replaced because the NGO’s headquarters in the Paris suburb of Clichy-la-Garenne had just mandated a “Hydrogen Vehicles Only” policy for their fleet worldwide, mostly for the sake of appearances and political correctness.
The Unimog U4000 was an amazing vehicle with a 4,500 kilogram cargo capacity and was capable of traversing what was normally thought of as “impassable” terrain. It had a massively articulated suspension and portal axles (similar to a Humvee) that effectively doubled the vehicle’s ground clearance. Powered by a U1450 engine, it had eight forward gears, six reverse, plus an additional eight gears in both directions when in the low range. Unlike its earlier slow-moving predecessors, the truck’s top speed was a respectable 102 kph. But shifting gears was complicated and required some forethought. The Forward-Reverse throw lever could switch the truck from sixth gear forward into sixth gear reverse with just a push of the clutch and the flip of the lever.
Mark’s dark green Unimog had two features that were important in Africa: A roof-mounted air conditioning unit, recently serviced, and an auxiliary fuel tank. They were soon able to find a military surplus canvas-covered cargo trailer that used the same style pintle hitch as the Unimog. It was older than the truck but ready to use once the trailer light harness was re-wired to match the outlet on the “Mog”.
They also bought a 2038 RetroRover with only 85,000 kilometers on the odometer. It had some recent repairs, including new belts and hoses, so all it needed was a new set of tires and a refrigerant recharge for its air conditioner to get it ready for the road. The plan was for Mark to drive the Unimog while Nancy would follow in the RetroRover, and they would keep in constant radio contact with headset FRS radios. Getting the registration paperwork and windshield discs took three weeks, so this very nearly delayed their departure. The registration forms with the cut-out discs arrived just a day before their departure.
Land of Promise Page 22
