Into Africa
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: I own no Castles. Or Becketts. Rating: K+ for language. Time: The present day, but in an alternate universe.
Over the next several days, the ISA and CIA electronic intelligence collection teams arrived. Also, a detachment of engineers with lightweight front loaders with backhoes and a couple of trench diggers. All were light enough to be carried in, or slung under, helicopters.
Lieutenant Diori, the Nigerien, arrived with his team. No one saw them arrive, they were just there one morning when everyone woke up.
Finally, the archeological team arrived in a white painted UN C-130 aircraft. The archeologists straggled out of the back of the aircraft. One of them, a tall, well built man with curly dark hair approached Warrant Officer Reed. "You! Get some people to move our luggage to our quarters, and hurry. We've had a long flight and we're all tired."
Mr. Reed looked at the man for a second. "You're in luck, sir. It just so happens I can see eighteen people who can do just that for you."
The man looked around. "Where? I don't see any."
"There are eighteen archeology students here. If they can't carry their own luggage, they aren't going to accomplish much out here."
"Who's in charge here?" The man demanded angrily.
"The Captain." Reed jerked his head to where Rick and Dr. Fields were standing and walked off.
The man angrily walked over to the two officers. "Who are you?" He asked Fields.
"Dr. Myron Fields."
The man laughed. "And what is your PhD in?"
Fields raised an eyebrow. "PhD? I'm Dr. Myron Fields, MD, Harvard Medical School and Fellow of the American College of Surgeons. I've often thought about picking up a PhD in my spare time someday."
The man glared at Fields. "Picking up s PhD isn't that easy." He growled.
"Compared to becoming a surgeon? It's child's play."
"Charles, what's the problem?" That from a feminine voice behind Charles.
"Dr. Beckett, it's bad enough we have to be saddled with these Neanderthals…."
"That's Doctor Neanderthal, to you." Fields said.
"Charles, let me handle this. Go get everyone and their luggage in our quarters." Charles walked angrily away.
Dr. Kate Beckett was a hottie, Rick reflected. She was tall, model slender and had great legs, partly covered by a pair of baggy shorts covered with pockets. She wore a tee shirt with the Duquesne-New York logo on it. She had short brown hair and lovely hazel eyes. Rick felt he could stare into those eyes forever.
"Which one of you gentlemen is in charge?" She asked.
Rick nodded. "I'm Captain Rick Rodgers, commander of Task Force 86, which is the unit that'll be escorting you."
Dr. Beckett smiled and held out her hand. "Glad to meet you, Captain. Please forgive Charles Bradley. He's a brand-new PhD and he can get a bit over-zealous. Now if you'll please excuse me, I have to get my team settled in for the night. Oh, what about our gear? Will someone handle that?"
"The Air Force Aerial Port Squadron will break down your gear in helicopterable loads. It'll take them a while, so we won't leave, I'd imagine, until the day after tomorrow."
"Thank you very much." And Dr. Beckett walked away.
"She is gorgeous." Rick said.
"She reminds me of Marie, who reminds me of my wife, who reminds me of….nothing I want to remember."
"I liked the way you handled Bradley, Myron."
He smiled. "Brand new doctors are even worse. They all think God is spelled MD. I got used to doing that."
When the sun was down, Rick had a talk with his troops. "Today I counted nine young ladies come off that UN bird. That is nine ways for you people to get in trouble. So, I'm going to make it easy for you. The civilian women are off limits. No fraternization at all. If you do, you won't know what hit you, I promise you. If you have to deal with one of them in your day to day duties, be polite, be professional, and do not have a plan to kill everyone."
The men laughed at the last part.
Oddly, Charles Bradley was having a similar conversation with the female archeologists. "You need to know that soldiers are the lowest of the low. They're ignorant, violent, mostly illiterate, and have no sense of decency. For your own safety, stay as far away from them s possible. If you find yourself with one, run away. If you can't run, scream. I'll come and get you."
The women were mostly very impressed with Dr. Bradley's bravery.
When the desert began to cool off, Rick organized a barbecue for his troops. He had asked Dr. Beckett if she and her team would come, but she had declined.
Billy Hebert, the pride of Meaux, Louisiana, was a country boy. Ever since he'd seen the desert stars in the night sky of Iraq, he'd loved to look up at them, picking out the ones he knew from back home. He had taken his bratwurst and walked a few hundred yards from the barbecue.
"Hello." Said a distinctly feminine voice.
"Um, hello." He replied, trying to figure out if this was fraternization or his day to day duties. He decided he'd have to talk more to find out.
"What are you eating?"
"Bratwurst. We're having a barbecue."
"Can I have a bite? Dr. Bradley got us some kind of soup for dinner. He says it's really healthy for us, but it tastes gross."
"Tell you what. I'll go get you your own brat. You just wait here." Then he was gone.
In a few minutes he was back. "Here you go. I hope you like mustard. I put some on it."
"Thanks." She took a bite. "I should go. We're not supposed to wander away. Thanks again." And off she went.
Billy didn't know what she looked like, it being so dark, but she sounded nice.
The next day was spent with everyone checking and re-checking their equipment.
At 0300 on the day after that, everyone marched to the airfield where a collection of US, French and UN helicopters waited for them. The heavy military equipment was carried in, or slung under, US Army CH-47 Chinook heavy lift helicopters. Most of the men were either in US Army UH-60 Blackhawks, or French Pumas. A pair of French Army Tiger gunships would escort them. The civilians were in helicopters chartered by the UN from a Ukrainian company. They were white painted Mi-17 helicopters.
The choppers were under the command of a major. As Rick, Fields and Reed approached his helicopter they heard him call out to his door gunner. "How are you feeling today, Jimmy?"
"Like a mean motherfucker, sir." Was the reply.
Reed looked at Rick. "If he plays The Ride of the Valkyries, I'm going to hurl, sir."
"Me, too."
"Rick?" Fields asked. "Why do we have to leave in the middle of the night?"
"Hot and high conditions cause the air density to decrease, which means the rotors of the choppers are less efficient. It'll cut down our speed, ability to climb and our ability to carry the load we want to carry."
They boarded the chopper and strapped in. All around them was controlled chaos as aircraft began warming up their engines and checking their systems. The CH-47's that were to carry underslung loads took off first so their loads could be attached. Then the aerial convoy slowly lifted off and got under way.
Rick soon got bored of looking at the desert pass beneath them. He went to sleep.
He had only been asleep for minutes when Reed nudged him, waking him up.
"The major wants to talk to you sir."
The major was kneeling in front of Rick. "We just got word from the meteorological folks. Our destination is socked in by a sandstorm. A big one and it's headed out way. We're going to divert to a French base in Chad, near the border with Niger. We'll ride out the sandstorm there and leave early tomorrow morning. Sorry about that, but that's Africa for you."
They landed at a dusty, bare bones French base. Rick's soldiers and Kate's team managed to squeeze into a small hanger. They could hear Dr. Bradley complaining loudly about how incompetent the military was for delaying their arrival at their dig site.
"I'd like to go ask him how he controls the weather in the US." Fields muttered.
"Forget it." Rick replied. "You'll just get him angry and that'll do no good."
When night fell, everyone ate dinner. After eating, Rick went to get a cup of coffee from the large pot the French had.
"Could you get me one, too?" Dr. Beckett asked from behind him.
He turned around. "Certainly, Dr. Beckett. Would you like cream and sugar? It's right here."
"Thanks. I'll do that myself. Actually, I just wanted to apologize to you for Dr. Bradley. There's obviously no way anyone can control the weather. I asked him to tone it down, but all I managed to do was to get him to quietly tell the grad students about how incompetent the military is. I'm really sorry, but I can't really just tell him to shut up."
Rick grinned at her. "Believe me, being had mouthed isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me. I'll survive."
"Thank you." She nodded to him and left.
Shortly after 0100 hours they were woken by the helicopter crews. "Everybody up. Weather sat shows the sandstorm has cleared our LZ. We're on the very edge of it here, so by the time we mount up, it'll be past us. Get moving people."
Dozens of grumpy people headed for the birds and once again, strapped themselves in and watched as the choppers were made ready to go. This time they headed straight for the Air Mountains and this time they made it there.
Some ten kilometers from their destination, the birds went into a holding pattern, flying in a huge circle.
"What's happening, Rick?" Fields asked.
"The gunships are going ahead with Lt. Diori and his people in a Blackhawk to make sure the LZ isn't hot."
"Why Diori?"
"He's a local. He's more likely to see something wrong than we are."
The LZ was cold and the helicopters went in, dropping underslung loads, and getting people, vehicles and equipment out and onto the ground. It was just after dawn.
"Okay, first thing, I'm going to take Lt. Diori and his people with an RTO and go visit the local caid. There's a village not three clicks from here. It would be impolite not to stop and say hello." Rick said. "Glass, you're in command until I get back. Start setting things up."
"I'm going with you." That was Dr. Beckett.
"Dr. Beckett, I don't think that's a good idea."
"I do think it's a good idea. And, I want to impress on the caid that we are a scientific expedition with military assistance and are no threat to him or his people. And I am going."
Rick decided that Dr. Beckett was a very stubborn woman. "Okay. Suit yourself."
"In that case, Dr. Beckett, I'm going as well. I can't have you off with these people with no one to protect you." Dr. Bradley snarled.
That brought some laughs which were quickly smothered when Rick glared at his people. Rick continued. "Sergeant Gianetti, you're with me as my RTO. Go grab a radio. Next let's see if we can actually get down off of this rock."
They stood and looked down the south side of the mesa at a ramp of loose stones than ran all the way to the bottom. Rick nodded. "We can certainly get down."
Sergeant Pham, the senior engineering NCO looked down. "That scree, the loose stones, will give way under you sure as shit. You could fall and break something. And trying to climb back up'll be a bitch."
"And a good senior engineering sergeant would have a solution to that."
Pham smiled at Rick. "Of course, he would, sir. We got plenty of rope and engineering stakes. I can run a line down the mountain and you can steady yourself going down and then haul yourselves back up. Easy, sir."
Pham organized a work party and got the rope line set up.