Clusters of tiny shops, gas stations, and wooden fruit stands roofed with palm fronds dotted the inland side of the coast, often accompanied by a couple of bars or liquor stores. Less than half of these were open. Groups of men sat together in the shade smoking, squatting on the dusty ground or sitting on oil drums or plastic buckets. The locals shared the ground with chickens who dodged traffic, bicycles, and scooters, while foraging for food. Fabrics in bright, bold designs and dresses blew in the breeze at wooden makeshift shops manned by women in colorful dress, often talking with one or two other ladies or children.
Their audiences, one by one, passively watched the caravan pass by and then refocused on whatever they were doing. Several scooters overloaded with as many as three children zipped dangerously around the traffic, pitching precariously and nearly spilling their precious cargo. Men and women balanced huge bundles atop their heads.
Tucker soaked all the visuals up, allowed the drone of the motor and bouncing of the Land Rover’s squeaky shocks to lull him to near sleep. At one point, he did fall asleep and spilled water in his lap.
The patchwork of colors and textures was so unfamiliar yet strangely beautiful, even though the heat was oppressive. He could smell fires burning and felt the grit in his teeth from sitting by the opened window inhaling road dust. He was looking forward to a shower already and they had traveled no more than two hours.
At several points along the way they’d encounter a tall pile of debris—lumber, poles, broken bricks and chunks of concrete and plaster—with children and young men going through the rubble, mining for something they could sell. Advertisements for beer, sodas, political candidates long gone, and even cell phone and internet services were plastered to walls, fences, and sometimes, palm trees.
A billboard announced they were approaching the border with Nigeria. The picture contained the image of a black fist rising to the heavens with a green and yellow flag waving in the background. The convoy slowed and then stopped at the archway crossing. Everywhere Tucker looked he saw uniformed men in light blue shirts and navy or black pants, most of them with sub machine guns at their sides or long rifles strapped to their backs.
Tucker took his passport out of his vest pocket.
The two border guards at Kyle and Jean’s vehicle slowly slid their sunglasses to their foreheads and peered inside their truck. Soon, two more did the same at Tucker’s vehicle. Leone spoke an African dialect to the guard on his left, who then wanted to check out Tucker’s passport and then handed it back. The guard on Brawley’s side craned his neck and did the same, asking for Tyler and Trace’s passports as well. Then both guards walked the length of the truck, studying what they could see inside the cab. Tucker was pleased to note someone had remembered to bring the two fishing poles they’d purchased, along with the net, which lay on top of their suitcases.
Jean and Kyle went inside the small border guard office secured with a glass door that had been taped back together with duct tape. Traffic coming into Benin was completely blocked off with barricades until the guards were done checking out all the Areva Afrique trucks and their occupants. Several other guards stood idly by and watched without saying a word.
The heat was oppressive with the complete lack of wind present. Leone tried to find a tune on the radio and finally gave up. He tapped his fingers on the roof of the truck, humming some Juju beat tune they’d heard in the city yesterday. A large tourist bus, which had been held up in the now-growing line of cars waiting to enter Benin, honked his horn.
“Oh, mister,” whispered Leone. “Not a good idea, mister.” Leone leaned over the seat, turned, and said to Tucker, “Chinese.”
“Chinese tourists?” Tucker asked.
“No. Workers. They take them from the airport to their apartments. Then they take them to work, and back to the apartments. They do not wander in the villages.”
“Are they held captive?” Brawley asked.
“You would say so, yes. But they are very quiet and very hard workers. If they cannot leave their compounds, they don’t have a problem, right?”
“Where are they working?” Tucker asked.
“Mostly construction. They work on roads, even built a small private air strip.”
“A friendship project, right?” said Tucker.
“Exactly.”
They were given the green light to move forward, and their caravan continued down the coast until they encountered a fairly large city. Tucker read the signs and figured they would be heading away from the coastal areas, going inland. The road wove through various neighborhoods until it came to an expansive city center, designed with wide streets and fountains.
“Dada’s folly,” Leone said.
“Looks like Barcelona,” Patrick said.
“This is Lagos. One of our early presidents, Dada, envisioned building a modern-day Babylon during the sixties. He nearly bankrupted the country with this project. But in the day, it was remarkable.”
Once out of the city, they turned off the provincial highway and traveled a compacted red dirt road, which was slow and filled with potholes. Leone maneuvered as best he could, being mindful of the trailer they were pulling. Dust from Kyle’s truck nearly obscured them. Lush jungle foliage appeared to have been burned back from the road to allow passage. They were coming to a small rise.
Once they hit the plateau, the view down to the coast was breathtaking. The air was slightly cooler but thick with mosquitos, especially as they approached the Ogun River. Dark-legged Sandpiper-looking birds with black and white racoon-like mask markings walked along the water’s edge, wading several inches deep for food. Tucker observed a flock of bright red canaries and a bright blue bird the size and shape of a robin.
But the most amazing thing Tucker found was that he could hear the cacophony of bird calls, even above their groaning diesel engine.
They crossed the Ogun several times and, at last, came to a series of small towns to the south of Abeokuta, the region’s capitol. The district was heavy with two- and three-story industrial buildings, mostly made of concrete and cinder block.
After several minutes traveling the narrow road through remote jungle, they turned off onto a crushed stone drive ending at a security gate without any signage whatsoever. The perimeter was fenced with heavy-gauge electrical fencing reaching over twenty feet tall. The gate automatically opened and closed behind them as they continued crossing what appeared to be a large private compound. A massive stone building loomed three stories tall, set in the middle of a grassy knoll, its rooftop covered in satellite dishes and several multistory antennae. They parked as directed by a security guard who greeted them.
Tucker could hardly get out of the Rover, he was so stiff. Every bounce, curve, and swerve had taken a toll on his body. Brawley laughed as Jameson and Patrick could hardly extricate themselves from the third seat as well.
All the Areva Afrique vehicles were lined up side by side, and the team was ushered around the front and up several steps, stopping at a massive porch overhang with a view of the knoll below and the Ogun River beyond the fencing farther down. Each member carried his own bag, and one by one, they dropped them to stare out at the beauty of the majestic scene.
“Holy shit,” mumbled Fredo. “We the private guests of a king or something?”
Kyle shrugged.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Jean remarked.
Surveying the lush green on the other side of the river, Tucker didn’t see evidence of another structure. They appeared to be completely isolated.
Enormous carved wooden doors opened to the interior of the building. Inside was a nearly empty, two-story lobby containing a curved wooden reception desk that appeared to be hand crafted from a single tree trunk, skillfully carved in relief depicting leaves, vines and various symmetric symbols and shapes.
The almost black, highly polished granite floors echoed eerily. Several members whistled while others whispered astonishment. Tucker felt like he’d just walked into a brand-new museum.
<
br /> Jean walked to the middle of the crowd and began his orientation. “This is probably the safest place in all of Nigeria, impervious to most rocket attacks and even perhaps some air strikes. The walls are made of reinforced concrete nearly two feet thick. As you probably saw, we have a satellite uplink and a dedicated, secure WIFI system, so you’ll be able to call home as soon as we finish the activation tonight. In the meantime, there are offices upstairs that have been set up with beds. There’s a large lounge area where we’ve got several big screen TVs so you aren’t cut off from the world. We hope all the other things will be working by tomorrow.”
“What was this built for?” asked Tucker.
“Originally, it was built with money from the Soviets about twenty years ago, designed to house the government safely in case of a military coup. Sort of a safe house. They chose the location because it’s well away from the country’s capitol but connected by a waterway to the coast. Even got room for a few helicopters in an emergency. You could easily stage an invasion from this place, and perhaps that’s what they had in mind. It’s nearly two hundred thousand square feet. We were able to purchase it several years ago to be used by our government and corporate clients.”
Jean’s men began unloading boxes of supplies, including all the duty bags containing their weapons.
“We have a large kitchen downstairs in the back, and we have one of my guys coming to prepare meals, so keep your equipment out of sight in your rooms.”
“This is huge. Very unexpected,” said Kyle.
“It’s way more than you need, of course, but I’m afraid it’s the safest place I can put you right now. You’re close enough to the city, where a lot of your research will be done, and only a few paces to the river. Most people in this area don’t even know this building exists, and those that do, understand it’s a space rented out for corporate events. You probably won’t be bothered here since this road is not on any map, by design.”
“Are you staying here with us?” someone asked.
“I’m going to stay with my men. We’re taking the downstairs right wing. You guys have the top floor. Go check it out, and then I need to get upriver with your boat crew before it gets dark.”
The men explored the upper floor and set up their rooms, sticking to the original roommate list. Only thing Tucker could complain about was that there weren’t private baths. But Brawley found the real prize.
“You guys won’t believe this!” he shouted. He opened two six-foot glass doors behind him, revealing a multi-station working gym with newer equipment. Beyond was a full locker room complete with a row of stall showers, toilets, and even a steam room.
“I think someone slipped me some LSD,” said T.J.
Tucker completely agreed. It was the most unlikely outcome to their hot and dusty road trip down the coast.
Chapter 10
Brandy’s cell phone rang as she was just about to put on her green apron.
“Hey there, beautiful!”
She couldn’t believe her ears.
“Turn on your camera so I can see you.”
She stared down into the phone screen and saw Tucker’s smiling face looking right back at her. “Oh my god! I can’t believe it’s you!”
“Of course, it’s me.”
“What time is it there?”
“About five. I think we’re eight hours ahead.”
“So how’s it going?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Trust me on this.”
“Really?” He looked good, not at all stressed. She expected to see a sweaty and dirty version of him, like how he was when he worked in the garden or fixed things around the house, but Tucker was clean and appeared to be calling from a swanky office.
“You sure you’re in Africa? I think you guys just took off for Vegas. That’s what it looks like to me.”
Brawley walked behind Tucker and waved.
“Hey, Brawley!”
“He’s next. We got a line here. Anyway, I can’t take too much time because a lot of us are lined up to check in at home, so this is just a quick one. Wanted you to know I’m alive, we are all situated, and so far, everything’s been better than I expected. The real work begins tomorrow, though, so fingers crossed.”
“Oh, thank you for calling, Tucker. I’ve been missing you so much, trying not to be worried, but I took your advice and have been staying busy.”
“Good job. Well, I have to—”
“Wait a minute. I have news! I mean Dad does. He’s met someone, Tucker. I had dinner with them last night. They are so cute together. I think you’ll like her.”
“Happy to hear it, sweetheart. But I’ve gotta go.”
She threw him a kiss, which he returned. Just before he hung up, he told her he’d call longer tomorrow, if he could. “And I’m dreaming of you naked,” he whispered. It generated some catcalls around him.
Brandy slipped her shirt over one shoulder to show him the only part of her bare skin she could. “You get your butt back here, Tucker. I mean it.”
“Roger that, ma’am.”
With that, he disconnected. She placed the phone in her center apron pocket and felt like she’d just had about a dozen cups of coffee. Then she wished she’d recorded the call and decided she’d ask one of the younger clerks how to do that for next time.
She was happy Brawley was going to get in touch with Dorie. She needed some cheering up. Brandy decided to check in with her in an hour, so she didn’t interfere with Brawley’s call. She wondered if her friend was going to tell her husband about the upcoming pregnancy.
Her father came around the corner with a cart filled with cardboard boxes of plump yellow peaches that looked delicious.
“I just got a call from Tucker, Dad. He’s fine, got there safe. And he looks great!” She hugged him so fast she nearly toppled the peaches.
“That’s great news, Brandy. Must mean a load off your mind. Did he say anything about where he was or what he was doing?”
“He can’t say. Even Brawley looked good.”
“Makes me happy to see that big smile on your face. I’ll tell Jillian tonight. She’ll be thrilled.”
After Brandy finished going through the mail, she handed the stack of bills back to their bookkeeper for entry. She was going to call Dorie, but her best friend beat her to it.
“Brawley just called me. You got to talk to Tucker?”
“Yes! They look good, don’t they?”
“Oh man, it was just what I needed.”
“Did he get to talk to Jessica too?”
“No, she was sleeping. He told me it was going to be short this time. But we’re going to try to get a schedule so she can be up for his calls. He said they’re staying in this super-secret compound. Did Tucker say anything like that?”
“No. He wouldn’t talk about it.”
“Well, we’ve got to celebrate. How about I get a sitter and we go to the movies?”
“I’m up for that. Text me what time. I can pick you up.”
Brandy met Dorie at Danny and Luci’s house, where she’d dropped off Jessica. It was the first time she’d met Danny’s wife. Her long shiny black hair was parted down the middle, framing her beautiful face with kind, dark eyes.
Brandy was introduced to Griffin and Ali, their two boys. Luci explained that Griffin was Danny and Luci’s biological son, but Ali was an adopted Iraqi boy Danny had rescued on one of their missions. The team had tried to rescue both he and his father, but his father sacrificed himself to save the boy.
“The boys have been looking forward to it.” Luci said. “I need to give them girl time, teach them some manners about being gentle with little girls. We don’t get much chance to do that around here.”
“Tell her about the sling shot,” said Dorie.
Luci inhaled, first checking to make sure everyone was playing nice behind her. “Well, Danny made this sling shot for Ali over in Iraq and taught him how to shoot pebbles. Turns out, he’s a crack shot! But the problem
is, poor Griffin, who’s not so adventurous, has had more goose eggs and black eyes than any other four-year-old around. Ali likes to lay in wait and pummel him. We’ve bought him some sponge balls to use, but he likes the real thing. Shoots jam and sugar packets at the waitresses, too, when we go out. Drives me insane!”
Brandy couldn’t stop laughing.
They heard a loud, “No!” coming from behind Luci. No mistaking Jessica’s voice.
“Oh boy. I better check—” started Dorie.
“No, they’re fine.” Luci held her hand out. “Whatever it is, we’ll sort it out no problem. You have a good time and I’ll call or text you if something comes up I can’t handle, okay?”
“Thanks.” Dorie gave Luci a hug.
“How’s Danny?” Brandy asked.
“Thank God for that call. I was beginning to worry, but man, some of the places they go are mind boggling. Sounds like this trip won’t be any different. It was great to see his face.”
“Yeah, I guess next one we’ll get more details,” said Brandy.
“You may not know this, but Danny’s cousin Wilson, is on his first deployment with them. He’s a SWCC boat guy.”
“Yes, Dorie told me.”
“Thanks again, Luci,” repeated Dorie. “We’ll let you know when we’re on our way home. I’m leaving my car here with the car seat. Do you want the keys?”
“No, I have two in mine. Have a great time.”
After the movie let out, Dorie checked on Jessica and was told they were all crashed, so the two of them stopped by one of the places on the strand for some soup.
Groups of young men, mostly Navy and not all of them SEALs, hung out around the outdoor fireplace, watching the girls sauntering by. It was a parade that had been going on for decades, ever since the SEALs had come to such public prominence. Brandy could see it was quite the show this evening. Young, skimpily-clad girls roamed between several of the local hangouts and especially flocked around the quiet tatted guys with the big arms. Brandy guessed by the difference in their demeanor they were probably SEALs.
SEALed Forever Page 7
