Diamonds, Guns, and Mercs: Chapter 1: This is Africa
The Central African country of the Gadonna Democratic Republic was a beautiful place. Large Savanna plains of golden grass swayed lightly in the breeze, herds of white and black zebra grazed in the mid morning sun, while large water buffalo stood around the murky watering hole. It was a truly beautiful place.
Unfortunately, it was also a country at war. Some months ago, the GDR's two main political parties, the African Front for Liberation, and the United African Peoples Resistance, had caused the legal government to collapse. Their inability to agree on anything caused the two former armed functions to rearm and plunge the newly created country back into civil war.
And of course the two sides needed someone to rearm them. With an arms embargo in place, the Arms Dealers from Colt, Heckler and Koch, even Russian and Chinese based companies were banned from entering. That left it up to the gunrunners, and smugglers. The exchange was simple, for Soviet era-weapons, everything from the infamous AK-47 to RPG-7s to PKMs, were traded for diamonds, gold, coltan, even oil proceeds. Of course not all were Soviets. Quite a few of the guns came from the Colonial Powers such as the British and Dutch.
This is where Global Justice Agent Kimberly Anne Possible now found herself. Her orders were simple, but extremely dangerous. Gather Intel on the gunrunner known as the Queen of Scorpions. Normally Dr. Director would have left this sort of task to a more experienced agent, but Kim had volunteered for the job, and had proven on many occasions, to have a maturity, patience, and skill of someone far beyond her twenty-three years.
Kim sighed, as she pulled the collar of her tank top, trying desperately to relieve some of the oppressive heat. The small sedan that she rode shot gun in wasn't equipped with a working air conditioner. Her vivid emerald eyes scanned the horizon, as her other hand brushed back her long red hair. Kim hated this, the long drive on the dusty highway had proven depressing as they drove by dozens of refugees, and the rotting corpses, just left along side the road. The driver however paid no attention to the misery around him, as he talked, joked, told stories, and voiced his own opinions about what was happening.
"I tell you, it's all the UAPR's fault that this country has fallen apart. They could have compromised with the AFL's bill the government would have lasted longer. The aid that we were receiving was actually helping us to get on our feet after the last war, but now…"
The small car bumped and rocked, as it continued down the dirt path, kicking up dirt and dust, as Kim and the driver sped past the now empty plains. This mission was what Kim lived to do, by completing this, she would ensure that the murderous bitch, that had armed both sides, would be locked away for good, or killed. Either way would help the civilians, and maybe actually put an end to this stupid war once and for all.
The car slowed down suddenly, jarring Kim from her thoughts. Looking out of the front window she discovered why. Several men all armed but wearing no identifying uniforms, guarded a lowered gate. Kim shifted nervously as she clutched her faux press pass. The driver noticed this and smiled. "Don't worry; I know how to deal with these militia rejects."
One of the gate guards swaggered forward; he tapped the window with the barrel of his weapon, gesturing for the driver to lower his window. Giving Kim another reassuring smile, he quickly rolled the window.
"Hey, my man, what's happening?"
The soldier's weather beaten face, split into a smirk as he leered at the driver's passenger. "Who is she, and where are you going?" The militia man asked with a gesture of his weapon.
The driver kept his smile. "She's a reporter with the UN, her pass is right here." He answered politely handing over Kim's press pass. "We're heading into Limina, where I'll drop her off at the press camp."
The soldier glanced at the pass, checking to make sure it was legit. Not that he could tell, Wade had spent several hours creating the pass, making sure that no one could tell the difference. Several moments passed as the militia man stared down at the pass, obliviously waiting for something.
The driver noticed this and breathed out a sigh of relief, thank God for corruption. Again the young driver's face split into a friendly smile. "You men like beer?" The militia man holding Kim's press pass nodded as he licked his lips, "tell you what, it's awfully hot today. How about I bring you guys some cold beer from town after I drop her off, eh?"
The men nodded in agreement, as the soldier returned Kim's pass. "Just remember there's a cease fire in Limina right now so don't do anything stupid. Open the gate." The gate was opened as the militia man waved them through.
The drive shot her a smug, superior smile. "See? I told you I knew what I was doing."
Kim returned the smile. "Thanks, I'll see that my editor compensates you and gives you an added bonus, you deserve it."
The driver chuckled and nodded his thanks. Slowly the sedan past the road block and back on to the dusty road. The two occupants fell into silence as the empty plains of the savanna slowly changed into the crowded capital city.
Kim's nose wrinkled in distaste at the sprawling city. The large town was little more then a slum. Shacks and lean-tos made up the majority of the housing that lined the dusty streets, while armed men patrolled the city. Many of the civilians had already left, but here and there, Kim could see brightly clad women peering frightfully, from their shakes, keeping their small children in doors and out of sight.
The driver ignored the suffering around him, as he brought his attractive passenger to the small hotel that was used for the press compound. The hotel had seen better days, the once bright red paint was peeling, revealing mud bricks, and wood, many of the windows were broken and border over. But what caused her pause was large barbed-wire fence encircling the building, and the soldiers guarding the building were not militia. They wore identifying uniforms of a light brown and tan camouflage, and were better armed, carrying American and German made guns.
"Mercenaries from the World Security Services Company." The driver answered her unasked question, "They were contracted by one of the embassies to guard the reporters, and the press convoys."
Seeing her apprehension at being left in the care of men who killed for money, the friendly driver gave her another smile. "Don't worry, these men are professional, it's their job to keep you alive."
That really didn't help to make her feel any better. Climbing out of the car, Kim reached into the back and pulled out her small bag of clothes, her laptop, and her backpack, and marched up to the awaiting guards. The man in charge stepped out to meet her.
"This area is off limits to anyone but reporters, if you have a press pass let me see it." The merc ordered curtly.
Kim placed her luggage on the dusty ground and reached for the piece of laminated plastic that hung around her neck. The guard took it in his gloved hand and carefully scrutinized it for several seconds. Assured that it was real he returned it, and let her through.
Out of the guard hearing, Kim breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into the hotels lobby, and out of the blazing noon sun. The lobby was dark and smelt of cigarette smoke, and rotten wood, broken and rickety furniture was scattered haphazardly through out the room.
"Guards treat yah alright there lass?" A large, older looking man asked her. "Damn mercs tend tah treat os like somethin' stuck on their shoe."
Kim nodded at the man's question. "Yeah, they let me in with no problems."
The man's broad face cracked into a friendly smile. "Good tah hear lass. These mercs have caused trouble for others aroond here. Don't turn yer back on them for a second, the bastards would sell their own mothers if it meant pay. I'm Garret McElroy by the way, I work fer the Guardian." Mr. McElroy said, as he held out a large calloused hand.
Kim returned the smile, and took the hand. "Kim Possible, Globe and Mail. Good to meet you Mr. McElroy."
The large Scottish man chuckled. "Call me Garret, Mr. McElroy makes me feel old. Now come an' git a drink with me, yah look like yer in need to know the going abouts aroond here."
With that, the large man led her to the dark and smoked filled bar. Several reporters were already there, sipping at tall stiff drinks, and discussing their plans for stories, their families, their homes, their sport teams and just about everything else. Most of the patrons ignored her and Garret, as they made their way to the bar.
The bartender took a look at Garret and his companion and with out a word, pulled two bottles from beneath the counter and passed it to them. Kim smiled at the South African brand as she popped the cap off and took a small sip, enjoying the coolness of the beer in the oppressive heat.
"Ahhhhhh, there ain't nothin' like a nice cold beer in the hot afternoon, eh lass?"
Kim couldn't help but nod her agreement, as her companion took another long drink. "Anyway, there a few things should know seenin' as yer new and all. First: Don't trust the mercs, their only lookin' tah make enough money as possible then getting' the fuck out of 'ere. If they think they can make a quick buck off of offin' yah, then the bastards will do it. Second: Only two roads are truly safe under the ceasefire, the main highway between 'ere and Palamla, and the road to the refugee camp, anywhere else and yer lookin' to get shot. Finally, if yer lookin' to get an interview with one of the lieutenants or the leaders of factions, yer wastin' yer bloody time, they don't talk to us. Yah can interview the foot soldiers if yah want, but all yah get is just some political BS, and slogans."
Kim nodded at the veteran's advice, already absorbing it and adding the information into her briefing. "So where will I be sleeping?"
Garret gestured to an African woman in the corner, going through leafs of notes. "The only available space in this dump, is with Lisa, in the corner there. Yah'll have tah bunk with her, but don't worry she mostly keeps to herself. Her room top floor last on yer right. Anythin' else Ah can help yah with?"
Kim nodded as she got down to the real reason why she was here. "What can you tell me about the gunrunners here? My editor was especially interested in the one known as the Queen of Scorpions."
Garret's friendly smile immediately disappeared and turned into a look of disgust at the subject. "There are a few o' them gunrunners' aroond 'ere. Most are small time, dealin' with the mercs, and other 'special orders.' Ah can get yah an interview with one them if yah want. But Ah'll tell yah right now, yah don't wanna tah try and track down tah Queen o' Scorpions, Ah've few friends try an' track that witch down, none have come back. If that bitch gets wind of yah, she'll kill yah lass. If your editor brings it up, yah just tell him tah piss right off, no story is worth what she'll do tah yah."
Kim was not put off so easily, she had faced these kinds of sitches before, and had came out alive and unscathed. "Can you tell me anything about her?"
Garret glared at the younger woman for a moment. "Yer not easily dissuaded are yah?"
Kim smiled and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm stubborn, and as my dad always said, 'anything is possible for a Possible.' And I intend to prove him right."
Garret chuckled slightly, but was soon all business again. "Ah can't tell yah much that yah can't find out on the street by yerself. All that we really know about her are from rumors and half truths, the only thing Ah can tell yah for certain, is that the bitch is a French Frog."
Kim drained the rest of her beer. "Thanks for the info Garret. I'm going up stairs to get changed, then maybe you could show me around and get me an interview with one of those smugglers."
Garret's warm grey eyes disappeared, as he covered them with his sunglasses. Running a large hand through his thick graying hair, he smiled at Kim. "Of course lass, Ah'll go talk to mah contact right now and see if Ah can get it set up fer yah."
Dropping a bill on the table for the beer, Kim picked up her bags and climbed the dark, rickety stairs. The hallway was not much better, then the lobby. The smells of rot were even stronger there, then the lobby bellow. The peeling wall paper, and flaking paint seemed to give the hallway, an almost horror movie type feel.
Pushing open the thin wood door, Kim stepped into the two bed room. The room itself, like the hotel, had seen better days, the peeling paint, rickety furniture, and the lack of air-conditioning made the room almost unbearable in the daytime heat. The beds however, she was pleased to find, were clean, at least the mattress was, the sheets on the other hand…
Shuddering slightly, she ripped the sheets of the one of the beds, and through her luggage on to it. Pulling out her laptop she turned it on and pulled out a change of clothes while she waited for the laptop to connect with GJ back in the states.
The laptop flickered to life, as the stylized emblem of Global Justice filled the screen. Changing into a light tank-top and a pair of olive green cargos. The connection was made and Wade Load's face appeared on screen.
"Hey Kim, about time you checked in, we've been waiting for you to report in for a while now."
Kim shrugged at the image. "The whole country's has gone hell, you can't really blame me for being late. So tell me what's the sitch on the Queen of Scorpions? I tried to get some info from one of the reporters but he was only able to tell me that she was French. You got anything else?"
Wade shook his head. "Sorry, I haven't been able to discover anything beyond rumors and have truths. Which is the reason why your in there, we need something on her, we need to find out who she is. The Queen of Scorpions has been supplying weapons to almost every major civil war and terrorist organization. Now open your pack and I'll go over your equipment."
Kim opened up her large pack and dumped it onto the bed. A belt buckle, a large camera, several rolls of film, a radar gun looking device, a light brown and tan gillie-suite, and a Glock-17 pistol, complete with a silencer, dropped onto the bed.
Holding up the pistol with distaste Kim turned to glare at Wade. "Wade, you know I wont use guns."
Wade smiled. "Don't worry, it's completely non-lethal. I redesigned the weapon to fire a pressurized knock out dart. The chemicals in the dart will knock anybody out for a couple of hours. Unfortunately it only gets one shot, so you'll have to reload the weapon after every shot."
Kim nodded as she returned the weapon to the backpack. Picking up the radar gun, she looked questionably at Wade. "That is my Long Range Sound Amplifier. All you do is point it at a conversation, and the microphone can pick it up, at a range of up to seven-hundred metres. We need you to listen in on the deal being made, see if you can pick up any other evidence on who she is, and where the Queen of Scorpions is getting her weapons."
Kim tucked the LRSA away in the bag, carefully not to damage the sensitive microphone. Looking down at the camera Wade answered her question before she even voiced it. "Since pictures can be doctored quite easily we need something that can't. Negatives, unlike pictures, are almost impossible to fake. The camera is equipped with a powerful telescopic lens, so you don't have to worry about the quality of the shots."
Kim nodded as she picked up the belt buckle. "What's this then?"
Wade smiled as though the object was a beloved son. "That is my pride and joy. It's a personal cloaking device. Touch the buckle twice, and it will envelop you in a shield that mimics the background. Unfortunately its no good if your moving, as your body moves to rapidly for the shield to adjust. However I wasn't able to get a proper field test outside of a controlled environment. The gillie-suite is just in case the PCD fails. Any questions on the tech?"
Kim shook her head. "No I think I'm good with the tech. So how am I going to find the target?"
Wade's fingers danced across his keyboard, replacing his image with one of a map of the country. "Global Justice has been putting pressure on several African countries, and through them we've discovered the routes that her cargo plane takes. To get through she has to bribe several generals to look the other way when the plane flies over. One of the Generals during the interrogation gave us the date and our informant inside AFL has given us the place. Right here."
A flashing blue circle appeared on the map just north west of the refugee camp. "You'll have to be careful. Moving off the road will make you fair game to the factions, they'll either think you're a spy, or a saboteur." Wade warned.
Kim smiled at the young boy. When Kim had discovered that her intelligence and tech guru was a boy five years younger then her, she had been in a mood to chew lead. Now Kim really did appreciate his help, after Wade had gotten Kim out of several perilous sitches.
"So not the drama Wade, I can do anything remember?"
Wade nodded with a slight smile. "I'll send the confirmation that your on the ground to Dr. Director, Remember you have to be at that location by tomorrow at six in the morning. This could be our shot at taking down the Queen of Scorpions, please don't be late." With that being said, Wade closed the feed.
Closing the laptop, Kim picked up her bag and walked back down to the lobby. Kim was surprised to find Garret leaning against one of the windows, another beer in his hands, staring out into the plains. Kim stepped up behind him and gasped at the sight.
Beautiful gold grass, stretched as far as she could see, mixing in with the pure blue sky where the land touched the horizon. Large umbrella trees added splashes of scattered green into the picture, while white clouds wrapped themselves around the tall mountains in the far distance.
"Beautiful, ain't it lass?" Garret asked her, not bothering to turn around.
Kim nodded her agreement. Not wanting to break the seemingly sacred silence.
Garret however had no problem talking. "Did yah know lass, that the colour of Africa's soil is red? The natives believe that this is do to all the blood shed for this continent, and seein' as many wars as Ah have, Ah'm inclined to believe 'em." Garret sighed sadly, "no matter what we do 'ere, or what we show, nothin' gets done. The people back home cluck their tongues and shake their heads, while some plan out their next tax deductible donation. While the mercs and the gunrunners profit off the civil wars, and both sides don't even know if they want to take over. TIA."
Garret turned back to Kim, and seeing the confused look on her face elaborated. "This Is Africa."
Well here's a new story from me. Something that I wrote coming back from my Honeymoon. So tell me what you think. And yes I got the idea from the movie Blood Diamond, so don't yell at me.