Page 16 of Soul on Fire
“If you get my guys on the ground at this L-Z, my team will cross the border overnight and make contact with the spooks mid-morning.” He zoomed into Goma, to the CIA’s deep cover station. It was a small storefront claiming to be a newspaper. “Posing as reporters? That’s original for them.” He pointed out landmarks, checked the city elevation. “I’ll stage men around a perimeter and make contact. We’ll pull them out quietly. I take it they’ve already secured their gear.” Whatever CIA had on station, once they popped smoke, any leftovers would be a free-for-all for looters. Anything classified, anything that definitely should not be in a newspaper’s shop, had to go. “They need to be ready to move and hump it back overland across the border at night.”
“And if that’s not possible? If there are injured personnel or there are unforeseen complications?” Kline was testing his plan, as all commanders had to.
“What’s our relationship with Rwanda? They’ve closed the borders to the Congo, but can I get across if I need to?”
“Officially as US Navy personnel? No. We don’t have 127-Echo authority to operate in their country. Unofficially? If you bring along enough cash, I’m sure something can be arranged.”
“Establish a secondary L-Z at Gisenyi airport. I want Seahawks prepped as medevac birds on standby for pickup. Captain Saito, what’s the readiness status of your birds?”
“Both have been running anti-piracy sweeps on every other day rotations. They’re halfway through their maintenance cycle. They can be tasked if needed.”
“That’s pushing the 127-Echo authorization, Lieutenant,” Kline cautioned.
“If it comes to a Gisenyi extract, we’re shifting cover to a humanitarian evacuation. We’ll be going in with minimal kit and civilian clothes. We can blend in as either medical evacuation or as fellow journalists, sir. But we’ll need active monitoring of Rwandan military channels, both on insert and extract. I don’t want any surprises for my guys.”
Captain Watkins nodded, barely deigning to meet his gaze. “We can handle monitoring from theDallas, Admiral.”
Kline nodded. “Commander, build Lieutenant Davis’s suggestions into the NEO. I’m sending it to Washington and the Agency suit who keeps calling me every hour. Once they give their approval, they will undoubtedly want a quick launch. How soon can you be wheels up, Lieutenant?”
“Give me an hour to brief my team.”
Kline nodded, dismissing the rest of the briefing. Everyone snapped a sharp salute before filing out, leaving Kline and Elliot behind, staring at each other over the digital table. Kline shook his head.
“It’s a shit mission, sir,” Elliot said. “Evacuating our people and leaving those civilians to be slaughtered? You heard the weapons those rebels have. Youknowwhat they will do to those people.”
“I don’t recall you being so passionate about civilians when you were operating in Syria, Lieutenant.”
“We were fighting to liberate civilians there, sir. Kick ISIS out so they could resume their lives.”
“And before ISIS…” Kline’s voice trailed off, a question rising between them. “Were you raging to go save the Syrians before there was a clear enemy downrange? Or was it ‘not the United States’ problem’ and ‘we don’t get involved in civil wars’?”
“This isn’t a civil war,” Elliot snapped. “This is going to be a slaughter.”
“The UN is moving those people out soon, Lieutenant—”
“Those peoplearen’tthings, Admiral. They have homes and lives! They can’t just be moved like cattle around the God damn country!”
“They already were forced out of their homes and their lives by the ADF. That’s already gone, Elliot.”
“Then maybe it’s time someone does something to stop what’s happening there. How many Africans have to die before anyone cares? Or will the world never care?”
“Lieutenant, we can debate American foreign policy and what is and isn’t right all day long. But I have a frantic Washington bureaucrat to calm down and you have a mission to prep.Youare dismissed.”
Elliot saluted, forcing his face to a mask of neutrality. He turned on his heel and headed for the hatch. Stopped. “Sir?”
“Yes, Lieutenant?” Kline had clearly had enough of him. He could hear it in his voice.
“You’ll get that backpack of cash I need, too, right? ‘Cause I’m not footing that bill.”
* * *
Chapter Seven
Rwandan Border with the Democratic Republic of the Congo
0200 Hours
“L-Z straight ahead, two hundred yards.”
