Chapter 6

Kismayo Somalia, UN Compound 14 June, 19:00 (GMT +3)

The day was coming to an end. Although it was still overcast, the misting rain had stopped. The wind was still blowing and had in fact picked up speed. My only worry was that we could expect a dust storm sometime. When it would come would only be a question of time. I have been told that dust storms are frequent in this semi-desert part of the world.

Two special visitors arrived at my door. “Come right in, ladies!” I invited the two girls, as they stepped through the door. Roxy closed the door behind her, and Darya was already on her way to the little kitchenette but stopped halfway to give me a hug, and a kiss on the lips. Looks like we are progressing in that department.

Roxy also gave me a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. She was still a little shy by the looks of it, but I didn’t press the subject. Roxy smelled of gardenias, her perfume just a slight fragrance in the air around her. Somehow my mind could not recall that I smelled any perfume on Darya. Odd, she had perfume on the previous days.

“I’m so glad that the furnishings include some good appliances, like a coffee maker,” Darya giggled. Once again, I could not get the idea out of my head that this giggling bundle of beauty was a deadly sniper. Like Ash said: “Ask her next time you talk to her. Ask her what she feels when she takes ‘the shot.’ You will be surprised.”

Roxy sat on the couch, but Darya stayed in the kitchen and seemed preoccupied. I went over to her. “What’s up girl?”, I enquired, “You look a little stressed.”

“Nah, just pre-mission butterflies,” she replied, dismissing my question.

“Pre-mission butterflies? How come?”

“TC wants to do a recon in the morning, to see what is around us,” Darya said, flicking a lock of hair out of her face. “Come, let’s go sit down. Good coffee takes time to brew.”

“She’s afraid that you’ll give me more attention when she is out and about with Major TC,” Roxy sighed. “Please, Ron, tell her not to be. She is great at what she does.”

“Let’s all sit on the couch. I just love your attention, and remember, we said we are friends; all for one, one for all.”

“Yes,” Darya sighed, but there was a note of sadness in there somewhere.

As usual, I ended up in the middle of the couch with Roxy on my right and Darya on my left. It seems to be the configuration for the last couple of times.

“Now, my lovelies, tell me what gives. It troubles me when one or both of you are sad.”

“Let’s just relax tonight,” Roxy suggested.

“Are you two at odds with one another?” I asked and got a chorus of “NO!”

“Then what gives?”

“This time Dar is a little scared to go out in the field...” Roxy spilled the beans. “I just wish I could go with her. At least she’ll have me with her and not just she and a bunch of guys.”

“When I spoke to TC he said that he is just going to go out to the site where they are building the water thingamajig,” I said.

“I don’t know the lay of the land, and with the cockroaches that crawl around here, I still need to gather intel,” Darya complained.

“Well, it looks pretty quiet to me,” I gave my five cents worth.

Then it struck me why Darya was not wearing any perfume. She is preparing to go out in the field, and perfume is a dead give-away about the presence of a woman in a squad. Also, when hiding in a sniping location, the wind can blow the fragrance towards the enemy, alerting them and compromising her position. Damn.

“I thought that TC would use you for some other task?” I questioned her.

“That will come later, when we clear up the mess you are going to cause with your rockets,” Darya said, resting her head in her hand, her elbow on the couch armrest. Roxy sat back on the couch, her hands folded in her lap.

“You’ve been briefed?”

“Yeah, Major TC said we are joining the African Union forces on the ground. We will go in just before dawn. I will be on the high ground to the west of the camp. It is a little far, about 800 to 1000 metres from the camp,” she explained. “After your run, the African Union soldiers will sweep in and clear the camp. Major TC and his squad will mop up outside, and I will have to take out those still breathing and firing on TC and the AU guys and girls.”

“Damn! I’ll just have to make sure every rocket lands right in that camp...”

“You’ll do fine, Ron,” Darya said. “I trust your skill...”

“Tell me, Darya ... How is it to do what you do...”

“Nice question. Everyone usually asks what I feel when pulling the trigger.

“And?”

“Recoil...” and for the first time that evening a smile formed on her lips.

“That is not what I meant ... I meant how do you cope with what you do?” I backtracked.

She looked at me, then her eyes got a soft look in them, and she smiled.

“You’re the first one to ask that question, Ron. I will tell you how it is. A sniper is just a normal soldier, like any other soldier, out there to do a job. We are human and also feel emotions. We are not automated robots, and we’re not psychopaths. We will do anything to protect our guys out there on the battlefield.”

“I did not imply that you are an emotionless psychopath that kills for pleasure, Darya. I know the soft side of you. You can’t be both psycho, and the loveable tender girl that you are.”

Roxy sat motionless, just listening to us as we had that conversation. I think for the first time she also got a little insight into Darya’s world.

“Thank you, Ron. Everyone deals with taking a life differently. You need to compartmentalise your emotions. It doesn’t matter if your buddy is killed next to you. There’s still someone out there trying to kill you and whoever else around you that is still alive. It might seem cold-hearted, but it is survival ... There’s time to mourn later, when the smoke clears, and the battle is over. The job is to get the target before he gets you or your other buddies.”

“That part I understand. It’s not much different from what I do. Some drive trucks, some go into special operations, some fuel aircraft, some fly those aircraft, and some snipe from the shadows. It’s all in a day’s work, and war affects us all in the same way.” I said, taking her hand in my mine.

“Now, tell my sister Roxy here not to follow in my footsteps. Tell her to keep playing with her radar thingamajigs. It is safer and keeps the ugliest part of war out of her pretty mind.”

I turned to Roxy. “You want to become a sniper too?”

“I thought it would be a good skill for me. The Angels can use me better.”

“No Rox! Do what you do. What you do is a scarce skill. Not everyone can be an electronic warfare specialist,” and I took her hand in my other hand. “Now let us get that coffee!”

“Yeah, coffee...” Darya said. “Alcohol never solves any problems; but shit, neither does coffee nor tea!”

“Are you still in a gloomy mood?” I asked.

“Give me a day or two, I’ll snap out of it.”

That time of the month?” I asked.

She just looked at me with her mouth half open, saying nothing.

Roxy jumped up and went out to the kitchen. “Are the mugs in the same place in the cupboard?” She threw over her shoulder, making big eyes at me.

“Yeah ... yeah. Top left-hand shelf.” I answered, still holding on to Darya’s hand.

“In this short while, you have come to know me well ... maybe too well,” she softly mused.

“Dar, I wasn’t born yesterday. I know for you to be in a foul mood means that something is not right in the ‘woman department’ of your body.”

She blushed. “You are observant; very observant. You could be dangerous...”

“Why dangerous? If I know how you feel, I know how to treat you ... Besides, I can’t have you go out on a mission while you have pain.”

“Thank you, Ronny. But I will be okay ... By tomorrow it will be better,” Darya said and there was a moistness shining in her eyes. I pulled her close to me and kissed her on the lips. Time stood still. I felt the tenseness in her body melt away, and she relaxed in my arms. Her lips were hungry on my lips, searching, eager.

“Ahem!” came from the kitchen door. “Coffee is done, if you two have finished...” Roxy said, smiling.

Reluctantly, Darya and I came up for air. Damn!

Kismayo Somalia, Kismayo Airport. 15 June, 04:00 (GMT +3)

It was still dark with a sprinkle of stars covering the sky. The Milky Way was like a lighted highway across the heavens. Not a cloud was visible at this dark hour, and the howling wind of yesterday was gone.

To the east of the compound, the dull glow of Kismayo city lightened the horizon. The city was ten kilometres away, far enough to not have any light pollution interfere with the compound.

Only a few lights blinked dull yellow at the airport itself. The lights in the compound were not too bright and thus the illusion of dark night was everywhere, and emphasized the stars overhead.

Three of the five Land Rover vehicles were idling to the side of our hangar. TC was giving final instructions to the drivers and to the crew standing around him.

Darya and Mai-Loan were in the back of the second Landie, together with Boomer and the rest of his stick. Boomer and his boys had already received their instructions and were just relaxing in the seats of that Land Rover.

“Do you feel like shooting out along the coast and see if there’re any boats about that could be ... not fishing?” Ash asked, and I turned to him.

“Will this be an intel gathering mission?” I asked.

“Yip.”

“What about not showing off the Mirages?”

“Who said anything about using the Mirages?”

“Oh! So what else?”

“There’s a nice old Eurocopter BO-105 just sitting rusting in the hangar next to us,” Ash said and smiled, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

“And?”

“Let’s go see if she flies...”

“And what will the owners say?”

“Oh, they say it’s okay as long as we don’t bend her. And they will be happy if we want her. Take her off their hands and such: availability of spares and maintenance costs here in Somalia, or something on that line, you know.”

“You’re serious?!”

“As a heart attack.”

“And how do we get her back home, Mister serious as a heart attack?

“Ron, if you want her, she’s yours. We’ll fold her up and pop her on the Herc going back home when the time comes.”

“You’re really serious!”

“I said: as a heart attack!”

“Then let’s go check her out.”

“I’ve checked her logbooks. She’s in tip-top shape for an abandoned helicopter,” Ash said and chuckled. “We just can’t go out and fly something that may stop flying somewhere out in the desert!”

We walked back to the hangar that stood beside our hangar, the one that hid the Mirages. At the hangar, Ash pushed the old rusty door to the side and in the gloom I saw a desert camo painted Eurocopter BO-105 sitting lonesome in the middle of the hangar.

I first stood just looking the familiar shape of the BO-105. Then I walked around her, noticing her civilian registration, “I-BITE.” I chuckled.

“My, my. Italian civil registration and even .50 Browning guns mounted on the sides! This could lead to some fun.”

“Yeah, much fun...” Ash commented.

“Only a few of them had been converted as gunships with the .50 Brownings mounted on the sides. It was not considered a viable option. The most of these 105s in military configuration had six rocket launchers on the sides above the skids or 20-millimetre canon on the centreline under the belly,” I said. “I know of a semi-civilian group that ordered some BO-105’s for communication purposes, and the aircraft were supplied WITH the rocket launchers.”

“Oops! Like Don and Dave, when they bought their Buccaneer and Impala, it was supplied with all the rocket launchers and external tanks!” Ash said. “The two did not complain or pointed out the mistake.”

Continuing my walk about of the aircraft, I noticed her sitting a little low on her skids at the back, like an old lady sitting on her haunches.

“She’s sitting a bit low on the skids at the back,” I observed.

“Problem?”

“Nope! It happens with the 105’s. The gas in the shock-absorbers at the back leaks. I can get her back to normal, but the shocks need to be replaced soon,” I replied, then went to the back of the tail-boom.

“So you’re comfortable still flying her?” Ash asked, a frown on his face.

“Yip. We’ll just have to not put her down too hard though,” I said and reached up, grabbed the tail-boom and then pushed it up and pulled it down again, shaking the helicopter, rocking her on the skids. The BO-105 responded, and the back skid shocks reacted. With the release of pressure, the shocks inflated and settled into normal configuration. Suddenly the BO-105 looked like she should be looking.

“It happens if they sit around too long in a hangar, but you saw the remedy,” I said.

“Well, looks like you know them,” Ash said.

“Done 1200 hours in them before SAPS scrapped them in favour of the AS350B3.”

“But the AS350 is better.” Ash stated, rather than question.

“Nah, I don’t like them. The tail rotor is too near the ground, and they are more prone to ground resonance. Besides, look at the rotor head of this baby. It has a hinge-less rotor system. So, it is fully aerobatic, and can do inverted loops. Fun, fun, fun!”

“Well, now you have one. It is yours ... Now, who can we find that can crew for us? Any thoughts?” Ash asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. I looked at him, turned and rushed out the hangar. I jogged over to TC and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Yip, Smudge. What can we do for you?” TC said as he turned towards me.

“I need two volunteers to join me and Ash. I suggest Darya and Mai-Loan.”

“Volunteers hey, and you just nominate the volunteers by name?”

“Yip, we need some lightweight able bodies to help us out, and they are the lightest” I explained. TC just smirked and turned to “Bushy”, standing to the side of him.

“Go get the two volunteers and tell them to double time it here!” TC instructed. In a flash “Bushy” was away to the second Land Rover.

“Tell them to high-tail it to the hangar on the left.”

“Yes, Sir, Captain Sir!” TC responded and gave me the evil eye. Then he spotted Ash pulling the BO-105 out of the hanger on a hand-held dolly, and his mouth fell open. “Holy shit! What’s that.”

“Close Air Support, Major! Close Air Support that you might, or will need,” I chuckled.

“I’ll be damned! Where did you and Ash find that old dusty relic?”

“Inside that hangar and when that relic opens up with her five ohs, you will sing praise and hallelujahs to your salvation!”

“Who’s it belonging to?”

“It now belongs to us! Now tell those two riflemen to move their asses!” I said and turned, ready to go back to the helicopter now sitting outside the hangar with its two ground handling wheels attached under the skids, her four rotor-blades bouncing up and down from the movement out of the hangar.

To the east the sun was just breaking the horizon. The first orange tint of the sky started to expand all along the low hill between the city and the airport. In the west the last stars of the night were lost in the sweet light of dawn.

TC stood there gawking at the bird. “I must say, she looks like she could mean business.” He said, reaching into his kitbag and withdrew a hand-held field radio.

“Here, take it. It is set to our frequency.”

“Thanks Major,” I said and took the radio.

Back at the helicopter I called on Ash, as he was closing the engine cowling on the left side.

“Two riflemen on the way!”

“Good, and she is good to go. Fuel for two hours in the tanks,” He said. “You want to check out the flight and maintenance logs?”

“Nope, not now. I’ll look at them later today, and I did not think of flying today, so no flying gear!”

“Just put on your Ray-Bans. It will be enough,” Ash chuckled. “There are four headsets in the cabin. You fly; I’ll navigate.”

“In that case, here, you do communications as well,” I said and handed Ash the radio TC gave me.

At that moment two stunned “riflemen” came up to us.