Page 13 of Soul on Fire
“Everyone,” Kline said. “This is Lieutenant Davis, commander of our SEAL detachment.” He shared a long look with Captain Watkins.
Elliot ignored the frosty look Watkins gave him and watched the displays. A news report played, a BBC reporter detailing the rebel attacks on villages in the depths of the Congo forest. Thousands dead with more fleeing the violence and clogging the refugee camps. A health crisis developing. Ebola outbreaks flaring across the eastern Congo, worsened by the mass migration of refugees.
“Lieutenant Davis is here to offer his input on the NEO planning process.”
“A NEO, by definition, sir, is noncombatant. I’m not sure I understand the lieutenant’s presence.” Captain Watkins again. Her glare could cut right through Elliot, slice him to shreds.
“This is a delicate one,” Kline said, a sigh in his voice. “We’re being tasked by the CIA with the blessing of the Secretary of the Navy. The Agency is sending a specialist to provide guidance. They’ll be here in thirty-six hours to help oversee the operation.”
“What does CIA want a NEO for?” Elliot squared his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back.
“Rebel violence in eastern Congo has spiked sky high. The State Department has issued an evacuation order for all US citizens in the region, as have our friends in Europe. The ADF, the Allied Democratic Forces, which is an interesting name for a radical Islamist group, is sweeping south from the Central African Republic and Ugandan borders. They’ve taken over Ituri Province and are moving into Kivu. CIA says these guys are aligned with the Islamic State, but they’re on the Islamist bandwagon with al-Qaeda, al-Shabaab in Somalia, Boko Haram in Nigeria. They’re determined to establish the African Islamic State, and they’re starting with the Congo.”
“Does CIA have assets in eastern Congo?”
“They do.” Kline pulled up a map on the digital display, markedTop Secret, CIA Eyes Only.
On the map, four pins highlighted four cities: Goma in the east, Lubumbashi in the south, Kisangani in the north, and Kinshasa in the west. “CIA has established four stations in the Congo, spread across the country in these four cities. Our focus is here: Goma.” He pinch zoomed on the table until Goma filled the screen. Tabs on the digital map cycled through different map layers: terrain, air space, satellite, infrared.
“Wait.” Elliot scrolled back to the infrared map. “Is this from a drone feed? How old is the data?”
“Twenty-four hours. A drone operating out of the CIA station in Kigali took this.” Kline circled the hot spots in the forest, masses of them clustering between Goma and Lake Edward. Heat signatures rose in tight groupings spread out in tactical formations holding position in the forest to the north. “The ADF rebels control a territory from the border in the north down to a rough line south of Lake Edward and over to the edge of the Maiko National Park. The Congolese army has taken position in the park and is holding the ADF to the east, which is pushing them south into Goma and the refugee camp. Which is why the CIA has asked us to move in for an evac and move in fast.”
“How do we know those aren’t indigenous personnel? More refugees coming out the forest?” Commander Paulson, representing the N-2 shop, Task Force intelligence, asked.
“CIA on the ground says these ADF rebels have pushed almost every last living soul out of the forest in Ituri. The refugee camp at Sake is bursting beyond capacity. Over one hundred thousand people have descended in weeks. The infrastructure there can’t sustain that many. The UN is moving people out soon and transferring them to different refugee camps in the south and west.”
“What is the Congolese government doing about this?” Captain Watkins asked.
“Congolese armed forces have closed Kivu and Ituri Provinces off from the rest of the country, blockading all roads and trains and closing all air traffic. They are holding a line at Maiko and Okapi parks. They say anything beyond that is the UN’s job. They’re pointing to the UN’s mandate to stop the rebels and claiming that means they’re hands off.”
“They won’t even protect their own people?” Elliot frowned.
“The Congolese armed forces do not have the manpower or resources to fight off a soccer team, much less a trained and well-equipped rebel force. CIA believes the ADF are more than your average Congo rebel group: they’re well-armed, well-funded, and they have foreign fighters embedded in their ranks. If the Congo army were to go against them, they would lose,” Kline said gravely.
“So we evacuate our people before the rebels move in and kill the locals?” Elliot’s eyes narrowed. “My men can handle some rebels, sir. We can turn this around. Civilians don’t have to die.”
He was the only black officer in their planning session. He knew it, he couldseeit, for God’s sake, but hefeltit when the silence dropped like a bomb. Captains Watkins and Saito shifted their gazes away as Commander Paulson adjusted the map on the display.
He was the only one asking to save the Congolese people.
Elliot wouldn’t look away.
Only Kline held his gaze. “You and your boys would give those bastards a hell of a fight, Davis. You’d chase those devils back to Hell, I know you would. But that’s not the mission.”
“Sir, are you—”
“Lieutenant, we’re on the CIA’s lead here. We’re evacuating their CIA station—”
“—telling me the US is going to stand back and watch while another genocide happens?” Elliot’s voice rose over Kline’s until he was shouting.
He heard the quick intake of breath from both captains. Felt the pressure in the room increase, the slide of eyes from the enlisted sailors at their stations, their gazes rising from their monitors to watch the SEAL lieutenant raise his voice at the Task Force commander, an Admiral so far above Elliot’s rank he’d need climbing gear and oxygen to get that high. Still, Elliot jacked his shoulders back, squared his jaw, and waited as Kline slowly turned to him and stared. Not many men could stare down a SEAL.
When Kline spoke, his voice was low and razor tight, clenched around an anger so fierce Elliot could feel it in the air. “I have been on the horn all morning with Addis Ababa working my way through the African Union’s Peace and Security Council. They are assembling their representatives for a vote as early as tomorrow to deploy the African Standby Force. Africa has systems in place to address conflict on their continent, Lieutenant,” he finished, biting off Elliot’s rank. “Would you like to take over? Make these calls, get this ball rolling? Coordinate massive multinational diplomatic and military joint operations? You think you can take over for me? I’ll tell you what, I’d appreciate lightening my load.”
Elliot’s jaw worked. His molars scraped. “No. Sir.” He’d overstepped, in a big way. He swallowed but didn’t drop his gaze.
“No, you just want to ride in like a white knight—”
