Chapter 16 U.S. and Libya Jointly Request Our Aid

 

 

SHORT IN HEIGHT, TALL IN COURAGE

Chapter 16

U.S. and Libya Jointly Request Our Aid

 

     General Iverson, a CIA operative, and a wealthy Libyan businessman sat in my office talking with Mabior, Samuel, and me. The discussion concerned a proposal for a Libyan Mission. The businessman, Faakhir Ahmed, had his son kidnapped by a Libyan rebel group. The group is the Salafi militants and is aligned with an opposition government set up in Tobruk.

     What an absolute mess the African continent has become. I cannot keep up with ruler and government changes or the numerous militia groups operating on the continent. There is no way to begin to explain all their agendas, if they have any, other than to be criminals. African leaders have been taught by the example of their colonial rulers to send their country's wealth to foreign banks. Leaders must have money and exert power ruthlessly, or the people will not cower to them. A poor man cannot succeed in running for President or Prime Minister in Africa. Regularly, I meet Europeans that still hang onto the colonial thinking of better than thou. It turns my stomach. I observe Americans acting in the same manner. How I want to strangle them, but my Lord has taught me better. 

     Another thing that makes it difficult for these people to unite is the multitude of languages. After World War II, the Europeans randomly grouped people to form a country that worked to their colonial advantage. Most African countries and their citizens have no shared history. This continent is fabulously wealthy in natural resources stolen daily by their own governments.

     I called The Team to the meeting room to hear what the three had to say.

     To put it politely and politically, Faakhir is one of the strong links in power behind Libyan Minister Dbeibeh's government. The CIA agent, Frank, explained that it would bolster the official government in Tripoli if The Team successfully rescued the son. Frank looked around the table at The Team, saying, "To be blunt, these kidnappings in Libya are a big deal. The citizens judge their governments by their abilities to take care of these personal situations. The big situations, such as invasions or national healthcare systems, are backseat to someone having their children kidnapped. The U.S. has given you a liberal amount of arms and mission support in the past. If we are to gain support for future mission aid, with the way opposition to anything Christian is currently, then we need your help on some minor items such as this."

     Breaking in, I asked Frank, "So, why us? This is outside our area of expertise. We would be operating in and against a mainly Muslim area and people. Where is our safe station, our quick-exit avenue? Logistics will be a nightmare."

     General Iverson pushed Frank aside and took over, "JJ, Somalia was a similar situation."

     Mabior chimed in with, "And you see what happened there."

     The General's face softened, "I didn't mean to say that it was perfect, but you knew coming in that it could get deadly at times. Am I correct, Mabior?"

     "Yes, sir. I didn't mean any disrespect. It's just that it still hurts. I think I speak for everyone on The Team when I say, we work for our Lord, and, if we die, we want to die for Him while serving Him."

     The General cleared his throat as if he was about issue an unpleasant order, "Men, there are times when, to accomplish our Mission, we must do something that seems to contradict that very Mission. This is one of those times. To get the future needed logistical support, we must help Faakhir get his son back. It isn't that far off our Mission when you consider we are saving a life."

     Shermake, Hosseini, and Diemba all stood while Shermake spoke, "Mr. Ahmed, we are fairly new to The Team. We three, at one time, practiced the faith of Islam. We understand the inclination of the others to be distrustful of a mission that relies heavily on Muslim guidance in a Muslim neighborhood. Recent Christian history has been one of hearing the pleas of Muslims for help disposing of tyrants. Once they are removed, Muslims have put a knife in their backs. We of the Christian faith are a loving people with a loving, forgiving God. Violence is not an option to convert the infidel. We convert by being an example of our loving, forgiving Lord Jesus. Many of these men here have lost their entire families to unthinkable acts by Muslim hoodlums. During the time we have served with these devout men, we have witnessed many acts of goodwill toward those of the Muslim faith. Thank you for your kindness in listening."

     Samuel stood with that look of his that says, "God just told me something." Samuel walked over to Faakhir and took his hands in his, "Mr. Ahmed, I know God is leading us to save your son for reasons that we may never understand. We will go to Libya and attempt to bring your son home safely. We will do it with the love and compassion that our Lord asks of us."

     Faakhir stood and put his arms around Samuel, then looked at The Team, "You are as wise and strong as the stories about you. I hear that you do not care for gold or material things. Therefore, I can only offer you a Father's eternal gratitude. If any Muslim goes against you, I am certain that your God will destroy them. My son and I are at your God's mercy."

     Good, let's get down to the real business before us. Frank took over with his just-the-facts manner, "We will fly you into Ma'aten al-Sarra, an abandoned Air Force Base in southeastern Libya. That will be our Ops Staging Area or OSA. You'll have your SUVs flown in, along with all your weapons, munitions, and food. From there, you'll travel 197 miles or 317 km to Al Jawf Kufra. Actually, your destination will be about 32 miles short of that city. A Rebel outpost is there with Faakhir's eight-year-old son, Moha Hassan. We will furnish drone guidance throughout. All ops against the outpost will be carried out by night to use your night-vision tactical advantage. Sat-phones only. Normally, the rebels muster five men at that post. Currently, satellite surveillance shows twelve men since the prisoner has arrived. The rebel unit has two RPGs, and all of their men are equipped with an AK 47 standard. The area is desert, expect lots of sand," followed by chuckling. 

 

     Frank then spread out a map. "We'll have GPS points for your ASA, Attack Setup Area, here, by the time you land in Libya. I have a note from my unit chief. Do any of you know an Alexei Fedorov?"

     That got The Team's attention. I answered, "Yes, he is well known to The Team as a good friend and associate."

     Frank looked at me suspiciously, "Were you aware of his KGB affiliation, JJ?"

     "Yes, and so is the General and everyone else but you. Why?"

     "Note says he is being held hostage by Salafi at the same outpost for some unknown reason."

     Samuel said quietly, "I knew God had a reason other than Mr. Ahmed's son for our mission to Libya."

     Shermake hit the table with his fist, "And the Muslim Clerics wonder why Christians interfere in Africa and the Middle East. Alexei is such a devout follower of Christ. We must save him, but then he has already been saved. He is in good hands. All is well. Please, forgive my outburst."

     Eyes widening, Frank looked over at Shermake with a surprised expression, "A Russian Christian? That's something you don't hear every day."

     Mabior cut in with, "One of the absolute most exemplary Christians you will ever be blessed to meet. Make it a point to get to know him after rescuing him, Frank. And, while you are at it, get to know our Lord Jesus Christ. There is not a member of The Team that would not drop everything anytime to help you get to know Him, sir.

     General Iverson intervened at that point, "Frank, this is your first time working with The Team. I'm sure it is quite an eye-opener. I think you'll find them up to the task at hand. When WCPN gave this most difficult task to JJ and Mark, my son, they were asked what kind of men they would be looking for. Mark answered, 'I speak for both of us when I quote David Livingstone, 'If you have men who will only come if they know there is a good road, I don't want them. I want men who will come if there is no road at all.' And we, JJ and I, will demand of them to do it all for God and God alone.' Now, sir, you know exactly who and what these men before you are." The Team stared intently at Frank.

     The two C-130s circled the runway of the old Libyan Air Force Base as it prepared for landing. This was a lot less intense than the landing in Somalia. 

     We braced for the landing, but the C-130 had a long runway on which to brake slowly. The plane turned onto one of the taxi strips to roll back down toward the OSA. Mabior put us through the weapons-ready checklist. We wore our desert camo on this particular trip for obvious reasons. After finishing prep, Mabior marched the men off the plane in formation as was our custom, while I sauntered toward the Command Trailer.

     Frank and several other, I supposed, CIA men sat around with their feet propped up on the desks and furniture. Frank didn't introduce anyone. I assumed there was a good reason for that. He handed me a manilla envelope containing orders as he wrote down the GPS coordinates of our ASA and the Salafi outpost. Updates on the situation were verbally thrown at me. I noticed a person in the room that seemed odd compared to our CIA boys. I guessed KGB, and here because of Alexei's situation. He and I both gave one another our poker faces.

     Then, just as I was about to open the door to exit, the KGB man stood up, saying, "Mr. Jefferson, for some reason, my President has tremendous faith in your Team to pull this Mission off successfully. I have my doubts. We shall see."

     Saying nothing, I turned to open the door again. That man's opinion mattered little to me. We have God on our side, and with Him, nothing is impossible. We were going to bring that boy and Alexei home.

     I signaled Mabior to drive to me. As I waited, I opened the orders. No surprises. We are the bait, and they will take the glory. When Mabior drove up, I hopped in the passenger seat. We pulled over to a secluded area away from the eyes and ears of the intelligence services. Informing The Team about the KGB man and my opinion of him.

     Samuel spoke up, "Chief, we work for God, not for the CIA or KGB. They will soon see who receives the glory."

     Nodding in agreement with Samuel, I told The Team to be extra vigilant. Next, I told them what was stuck In my mind, "Men, I have this strange feeling that I have seen this KGB guy somewhere in the past. That thought just will not leave me alone. His presence concerns me."

     Samuel took me aside, telling me, "Chief, you are right about the KGB agent. I saw him enter the CP just as we were disembarking from the plane. He is the man that Alexei told me to be wary of. We saw him hanging around the Market in Yei, a place he should have been nowhere near at the time. Alexei had suspicions about the man being a rogue agent out for himself and jealous of anyone who comes between him and his power."

     "Samuel, tell The Team all that you just told me. Then load up and get out of Boris' and Natasha's sight." He stared at me with a questioning look. I explained, "Boris and Natasha - the two spies from the Bullwinkle and Rocky cartoon?" The stare continued, "Forget it. Give the info, and let's get out of here." Every day, I feel more out-of-date.

     Mabior climbed into the driver's seat while I slid into the passenger seat. He looked at me, asking, "Who's Bullwinkle and Rocky?"

     Shaking my head, I answered, "Not you, too? Just drop it. I'll explain it when we get home."

     We pulled away and were shortly sending up vast plumes of desert dust which hung in the still air as if painted there. This is how God meant for us to operate as a team under His command.

     Every effort had been made to protect our equipment from sand getting into the moving parts, but that was a futile task. Soon, the sand was creeping into our eyes, mouths, and clothing as well. Add those things to the long list of reasons that made us reluctant to do missions in the desert.

     Within two hours, we encountered camels blocking the road. The people with them were unmistakably Bedouins of the Banu Salaym Tribe. My phone vibrated as we came to a halt. Frank was on the other end, ordering me not to stop. The Drone team had informed him of our stop. I shot back that we knew what we were doing. I asked if there were any other groups in the dunes surrounding us? He replied, "No."

     Mabior and Samuel got out to speak with the men in front of us. Our weapons were kept out of sight but ready. Mabior walked back to update me, "Chief, these men say they have sick children where their family is encamped. They say that the children have trouble breathing due to a sandstorm they experienced a few days ago. They want to know if we have any doctors or medicine with us that can help?"

     Looking at the concern in the men's eyes as they talked with Samuel in an almost begging attitude, I told Mabior, "Tell them to guide us, and while we are following, I'll call the UN medical line to see if we can diagnose what is causing this, and what we can do."

     Once again, Frank became involved. "Get back on track, now!"

     Keeping my temper in check was becoming difficult. "Frank, these men have very sick children where they are camped. The Team has additional responsibilities besides physical fighting.

     Arriving at the encampment at the end of two hours of offroad travel, we entered a different world. Camels were tethered in a large group off to one side while large tents filled the central area. Curious family members rushed out to see the strange visitors arriving at their camp. The Bedouins were dressed in their traditional Arab thawbs with the keffiyeh on their heads.

     The scene inspired awe in The Team. Thon uttered, "Lawrence of Arabia must live here."

     The Bedouins were a little in awe themselves. They looked at us as if we might be a danger to them with our desert camo and weapons. The leader approached us, introducing himself as Abdul-Latif Othman. Abdul-Latif informed us that we must accept their hospitality and be fed before we tend to other matters. We returned his gracious greeting by introducing The Team. I insisted that we should waste no time before examining the children.

     All the sick children were gathered in one tent. Their situation was every bit as bad as we had been informed. Staying on the phone to the UN Med Line, we examined precisely how we were instructed. We had limited instruments but were well-stocked with the various medicines. The prognosis was possible pneumonia. We injected them with antibiotics then gave the parents antibiotic pills to supplement the injections for two weeks. Due to the insistence of Mar, who has a cousin with asthma, we had added albuterol inhalers and battery-powered nebulizers to our pharmacy on missions. We issued several boxes of those two items to the parents. We went on missions prepared to save more than to take lives. By morning, the children were sleeping, and their breathing improved. Then, and only then, did The Team agree to eat. The people fell over one another to serve us. They kept thanking us. How kind they were, and our religions were never a factor.

     Samuel sat beside Abdul-Latif at the feast, asking him, "Sir, do you know that we are Christians?"

     Abdul-Latif put down his food, then reached over and lifted Samuel's gold cross, hanging from the chain around his neck, with his fingers, saying, "Samuel, I noticed immediately that all of you wore this gold cross around your necks. I knew then that our children would be saved. You are not just soldiers but holy men as well."

     Locking eyes with Abdul-Latif, Samuel told him, "Sir, before we ever came to your camp, God showed me your face in a dream and told me that you needed our help."

     "Samuel, I have had my eyes on you since you arrived here. I cannot explain how, but I knew all of you were coming, the holy ones. I have heard stories of this benevolent group of Christian men that serve and fight for God in a most extraordinary way. I have heard of the little man with the large heart, one they call, 'Short in Height, Tall in Courage.' If ever my people can do something for The Team, just get word to us. We will find a way to get to you. We can never fully repay you all for what you have done in saving our children. God surely follows you with an army of angels to watch over you."

     Explaining to Abdul-Latif that our commander was putting tremendous pressure on us to get back on the road, we said our goodbyes and drove away, exhausted. I didn't tell Abdul-Latif that my commander was constantly berating me for going off-track to help save his children's lives. I was too embarrassed and mortified at his vile words.

     We took turns sleeping and driving. The following night, we pulled into and set up at the ASA. Intel indicated the situation to be as we had been briefed. After unloading and lugging all of our equipment a quarter-mile through sand dunes that sucked in our legs with every torturous step, I sat everyone down to pray before resuming.

     Waiting for the order to attack, we tried to rest in shifts. No updates or attack orders ever came. I could get no explanation from Frank. He just said sit tight through the day, that we'd attack the following night. But as day broke, we made out in the distant hills or dunes the vague forms of men entrenched to our front. Evidently, they had accomplished that during the night while we waited. There seemed to be many more combatants than intel had let on - many more.

      I got very testy with his attitude on my next call to Frank. That's when he shot me with what he referred to as a minor detail; the Drone Team had been removed due to a threatening rebel military presence in the vicinity. I blasted Frank with, "Just like what you guys did to us in Mogadishu, Somalia in '93, huh? Does General Iverson know about this?"

     Frank answered with, "I wasn't around when Somalia took place, and General Iverson ain't running this show." Then he disconnected.

     I was steaming when General Iverson answered my call. I told him the situation with the CIA's Drone Team, Frank, and the loss of tactical surprise. The General exploded, "In your estimation, is The Team capable of handling this for the 48 hours it will take the U.S. Air Force to scramble an emergency team?"

     "I have no doubts, General. If nothing else, we can retreat," I told him that with no intention of going down that street.

     In his best General's voice, he said, "JJ, just what is your plan to hold on till we get there?"

     Looking over at Mabior and Samuel, I responded, "Our plan, General, is to attack, attack, and attack some more."

     "That's my boy! Don't stress over the hand dealt. Pray and attack.

     Mabior and Samuel were fired up by the General's words, just as I was.

    

      Mabior and Samuel asked to look through the periscope binoculars I used to safely view the enemy.

     Mabior's first comment after checking out the enemies lines, "Chief, I agree with you. I think we have been set up. Somebody wants us to get chewed up, then the CIA and KGB will come in and save the day. I hope we're not going to sit here and let that happen."

     I spit on the ground in defiance, then answered, "Won't be the first time I've experienced this kind of bad business. Yeah, I'm getting up in years, but I have learned some tricks along the way. First, we give them a taste of our firepower."

     Samuel handed the binoculars back to me with this comment, "I'm going to leave for a little while, but don't worry about me. The Lord is always with me.

     Grabbing Samuel's shoulder, Mabior instructed, "Go, Little Brother, but always with God." Samuel was off in the opposite direction of the enemy.

     By noon, the desert sun beat mercilessly down on us. I sent the men back to the SUVs in threes and fours to cool down in the AC. My thinking was the enemy wouldn't attack before nightfall when we would be at our maximum advantage. 

     Their knowledge of our presence brought about concerns for the hostages. Have they killed them or moved them? They evidently received reinforcements without us knowing. Easily, they could have removed the hostages. With a drone, we would have noticed the enemy's changes. What other surprises awaited us?

     As the sun slowly slid below the horizon, it was a mixed blessing. Night meant cooling, but it could also mean attack. The Team seemed in good spirits and appeared eager for action. The sun disappeared below the horizon. I signaled Mabior to check on all our positions. Mabior's return brought alarming info. Hosseini had informed him, "I've been watching the dune about a hundred feet over there. Every so often, the sand sifts down from the top. That means something is disturbing it from behind. An old desert warfare trick is to burrow through the sand dunes out of sight to get close enough to toss grenades into the enemy's lines."

      With a sly smile, I responded to his news with, "Remind me, when we finish here, to give Hosseini a big hug. That's a really keen observation.

      Mabior, Alek informed me a while back that he had acquired some baseball grenades. Tell him to distribute them to everyone. Whenever Hosseini thinks it is time, we'll strike them with hand grenades first. Also, tell Alek and Diemba to sight in on the line we can see visually with mortars. We'll tear into them with the mortars after we hit them with the grenades."

     It was 03:37 when exploding grenades and mortar rounds disturbed the peaceful desert night. Screams of terror and pain broke out along the enemy line. We received only two RPG rounds from the enemy area that failed to reach our lines before exploding. We expected a heavy return fire, but it never materialized. I decided to abandon the plan to return fire with our Scars and machine gun. Something just wasn't right.

     Turning to Mabior, I gave the order to move back a quarter mile to where the vehicles were concealed, along with this, "Mabior, tell the men that we'll give them 20 minutes before we mount a counterattack. If nothing by then, we'll make an end-around flank attack. Then maneuver toward the building with the hostages. I just don't want us to be attacked while maneuvering. So, let's give it 20 minutes."

     Mabior could tell that I was tensing. With his usual air of confidence, he told me, "Chief, we've got this. They can beat an army, but they can't beat God. Let's pray before falling back. Like Samuel says, 'There is always time for prayer.'"

     And we prayed as our Lord has taught us; we prayed with the faith that what we prayed for has already happened.

     We fell back, we waited, and then we flanked them. The enemy were fierce fighters but totally unprepared for professional military tactics. We rolled their line up like an extension cord. I think it was the Roman poet Virgil who wrote, "Fortune favors the bold." Our God demands that we be bold.

     Mabior looked at me with a concerned look as the rout became overwhelming for the rebels. I yelled to him, "Mabior, take four men and assault the building with the hostages while I wrap this up!" The hostages had to be reached before the rebels had the opportunity to kill or escape with them. They took off through enemy fire.

     Reaching the ramshackle building, Alek, Hosseini, Mar, and Marial surrounded it. Seeing them in position, Mabior kicked in the back door. A shocked rebel pointed his AK at Mabior, but it was too late. Struck by the full force of Mabior, the poor man's AK ejected from his hands. As the rebel's body met the floor, all the air was forced from his lungs. Mabior wasted no time in flinging the hapless man against the front wall. The rebel was finished, but not Mabior. He took his Stiletto knife from his boot, then took a step toward the man to deal the final blow.

      Having burst through the front door as that was taking place, Alek jumped in front of Mabior, pushing him back. He screamed in horror, "Mabior, my Brother, no! The man is finished. Don't sell your soul to Satan's anger!"

     Heavy breathing came from Mabior as he slowly put the knife back in his boot while saying, "Thank you, my Brother, for saving me from my anger. I am so sick of these people and their hatred and murdering everyone around them."

     But evil still circulated in the air. In one of the dark corners, Mar noticed what looked like a human form, but it was incomplete in some way. He walked over to it, giving it a shove with his boot. In horror, Mar jumped back as he comprehended what was before him. Pointing his gun's light on the scene, he saw two lifeless and headless bodies. Gagging as he did his best to tell everyone, "I think we've got a situation here! Check this out!"

     Those present turned their heads toward Mar's voice and walked over to him. This was the moment Samuel entered the building with Abdul-Latif Othman and several fully-armed family members. The new arrivals walked over to the bodies. Mar, spotting Samuel, reached out to constrain him while advising, "Little Brother, it is not good for you to see this. We can handle this."

      But it was too late. Samuel quickly recognized the two bodies lying headless before him. Samuel shouted, "Alexei and the boy, Moha, " with a heart-rending scream. What kind of inhuman animals cut people's heads off, especially children?" He fought Mar's grip, but others joined in the restraining.

     A deafening gunshot exploded in the confined space. Everyone turning to the sound with weapons at the ready witnessed Abdul-Latif standing in front of the now lifeless rebel body against the wall. He turned to the gaping witnesses with, "I know that you men are too holy to do such repugnant things, but I will bear the burden before God. It is time for people capable of such hatred and godless actions as this man evidently is to be removed from this world. To kill a child and a holy man such as this Alexei is enough to judge this man worthy of a criminal's execution. To think that my family and I must live every day with the knowledge that this man called himself a follower of my Islamic faith is judgment enough for his execution."

     I had walked into the room close behind Samuel and his group. The crowded room did not lend itself to movement. So, I merely stood there hearing and observing everything that occurred. With nothing to say or do that could turn any of this tragedy into good, silent witness was the most objective way to handle this. I concluded that Abdul-Latif had only done what we all wanted to do. The Team would pray for God to forgive him in the days to come.

     Battle transfigures those involved, and we, The Team, are no exception. However, we had more immediate concerns in front of us; what to do with the prisoners. God gave us Abdul-Latif to make that decision easier. He and his family that had arrived to support us asked to take over the prisoners. Abdul-Latif assured us that they would allow the prisoners to repent. They would be allowed to leave if they repented after a stern warning. Moha Hassan would be given all the Muslim rights as he was transported with an escort to his father in Tripoli. The Team thanked Abdul-Latif and his many family members that had fought bravely by our side. We had made many new friends that may promote new and lasting peaceful relationships in the area.

     Two C-130s circled low over our area, signaling that General Iverson was now in charge. I noticed an AC-130J Ghostrider circling high in the sky. Thank God that we didn't have to use it. It was time to head for the airbase at Ma'tan al-Sarra.

     We loaded Alexei's body into the middle SUV. The General informed me that the Russian government was waiting in Tripoli to take possession of Alexei's body. A state funeral was in Alexei's future. The suspected KGB agent present at the meeting with Frank had been found dead in a Tripoli hotel from unknown causes. Frank, well, he is on his way home to a less-than-hero's welcome.

     The ride to the airbase was uneventful, except for the occasional caravan we passed that stopped and lowered their heads as we passed in reverence to Alexei. Heroes cross over cultural lines.

     According to the prisoners, Alexei had successfully infiltrated their camp. Escaping with the boy, he had been caught just outside their lines. Wide-eyed prisoners related the story of Alexei's capture. They actually told the story with great reverence for his bravery. The Team listened stoically as the men described the scene of Alexei fighting and almost winning against twelve of their best fighters. I asked God to prepare a special place in heaven for that very holy man. We didn't care what nation Alexei hailed from; a great man is a great man.

     My phone went off. It was Samuel on a conference call to the entire Team. He requested, "Everyone, open your sunroofs and stand up. Open all your windows. Alexei's favorite song was Robin Mark's "Days of Elijah." Let's sing with all the spiritual joy we can muster in the midst of this, our great loss." We all sang with joyful hearts in Alexei's honor. It was a tragic time, but Alexei had brought great glory to God through his courageous actions. 

     One of our projects on the way to the airbase was writing personal letters praising Alexei to be given to his wife and family. These letters were handed to the escort in charge of his body.

     We received an uplifting and very personal letter from his widow two weeks later. She described her husband's reverence for The Team and his high regard for their dedication. It was another sad time in The Team's history. Losing another invaluable and loved member. Yes, we made Alexei an honorary member of The Team with his own plaque in the main lobby next to Mark's and Chan's as a member lost in action. WCPN, through the Russian State Department, presented Mrs. Fedorov with a monetary endowment for life which included educational endowments for the children.

     The Libyan Mission was not a disaster. It had both joy and sadness involved. God has reasons why He pours the rain on the good and the bad.

     

 

Change of Pace with a Pinch of Action

 

 

SHORT IN HEIGHT, TALL IN COURAGE

Chapter 15

Change of Pace With a Pinch of Action

 

     In the open area of our compound, 20 men sat facing inward in a circle as one man walked around the outside saying "Duck" and tapping each man on the shoulder. That is until he tapped one of the men saying, "Goose." The tapper then runs away around the circle while the man tapped as "Goose" takes off after him. I'm sure most of you know Duck, Duck, Goose rules. Why The Team was playing this child's game was due to the insistence of Samuel. According to him, this would relax our minds and bodies after the Nigerian Mission. Believe it or not, the men loved this game. We laughed till we cried at grown men acting like children again for over two hours. With the appearance at the main door of Mrs. Akech, shouting, "Come and get it," it was time to call it quits. Together with Mrs. Akech, the wives and children of Diemba and Hosseini had welcomed us home by preparing a feast for all of us. The Team never required arm-twisting to get them to the table for a meal.

     After that enormous meal, nobody was in the mood to play Duck, Duck, Goose. We simply rolled outside to our new patio furniture complements of WCPN. The old wood bench, my favorite, had been thrown away in our absence. Mrs. Akech denied involvement, but she was responsible for many derogatory remarks before its disappearance. I suppose life will go on.

     As we sat with labored thinking and fighting off a nap, I announced the next Mission was to the western area of South Sudan. We would be escorting a group from Doctors International to set up medical checks in select villages. Everyone agreed that it was a noble project as the snoring volume elevated.

     Three days later, we were flying, if you can fly over these horrific roads, toward our first small village on the Doctors International tour. Our seven vehicles escorted four large vans securely positioned in the middle. Dirt rose skyward, engulfing our caravan. On the Nigerian Mission, we had become spoiled to the Drones constantly overhead to examine our way and give us essential visuals.

     Our heading was southwest toward Yambio, the capital of Western Equatoria State, South Sudan. Our final destination was east of there at a tiny village. We would provide security while the doctors performed examinations and medical treatments. One of the large vans contained an x-ray machine and an MRI Unit. A lab for testing all manner of things was installed in another van. The other two vans were designated for the doctor's and nurses' living quarters. These wonders of modern medicine are much needed in the backwaters. It was a welcome change escorting these medical teams. This type of Mission allowed us to show the peaceful and serving side of The Team.

     Samuel, Deng, and Shermake gave well-crafted Sermons at the end of each day of exams. Baptisms were performed anytime and anyplace. On long journeys such as this, the men let their beards grow. Samuel, Deng, and Shermake standing in the rivers fit my image of John the Baptist doing his Baptisms. If Jesus had walked up to be Baptized, I would not have been surprised.

     We traveled from village to village till they all looked alike. One day, as we were being shaken severely on our way to another hinterland village, my phone went off, scaring me out of my half-dream state. Samuel asked if we could stop the caravan momentarily to herd some goats. Why I said yes, I will never understand.

     Samuel, Garang, and Chol jumped out of their vehicles, chasing and laughing at the goats. Eventually, we all exited the vehicles to join in on the corralling of the goats. Mabior enlightened me about the purpose of chasing goats. "Chief, Samuel spied some men running around like they were lost a ways back. When he saw the Goats, he came to the conclusion that the men had been searching for their lost goats."

     After an hour of chasing and Garang and Chol trying to ride the beasts, the men in question arrived on the scene, telling us that those goats were not their property. Also, they informed us that these animals are not lost but on the man's land that owns them. I looked at Samuel with what the men referred to as my mean one-eyed squint. An awkward smile spread over his face as he gave me the shoulder-shrug signifying "sorry." I couldn't be angry with Little Brother.

     The group we escorted was asked to cross the border north of here into Chad to help a village of Muslims. Evidently, they were experiencing a severe outbreak of Cholera. This comes about all too often in these underdeveloped countries by not having access to clean drinking water and poor sanitation practices. We were the only mobile medical unit operating in the area, so we agreed to escort them. As you are aware, Chad is always a dangerous proposition.

     I assigned Samuel and Alek the point position a half-mile ahead of the main convoy for security and scouting. With them rode Dut and Marial. I knew that Alek had somehow acquired an old but powerful BAR, Browning Automatic Rifle light machine gun, firing a 30.-06 round. Its drawback is the small 20 round mag it uses to cut down on overheating. As you are aware, Alek is Mr. Weapons, and the BAR is a Mr. Weapons weapon. Due to its weight, 16 pounds, the rifle handles the recoil very well. Though the mag is small, in its introduction, WWI, the standard rifles only held five rounds. Designed in 1918 by American John Browning, the walking machine gun was an instant hit.

     A couple of the doctors were gun enthusiasts. So, while pulled over at a rest stop, Alek took the opportunity to show off his new toy. The doctors were impressed, as were the other team members. We fired off 32 mags. When I asked Alek where he came up with this massive cargo of ammo, he replied matter-of-factly, "General Iverson has his personal sources." That was all I needed to hear. Secretly, I loved the BAR, too.

     As Alek placed the BAR back into the SUV, I glanced over to see a Thompson submachine gun, also known as the Tommy Gun or Chicago Typewriter. I walked over, asking where it came from? He mumbled, "It was in the same crate as the BAR."

     I shook my head, "The General."

     Alek turned to pull an army blanket off a Bazooka. He said, "Same Crate from the General, " without my asking."

     I just had to let out a big laugh as I quipped, "Alek, I'm glad you're on my Team. Heaven help the bad guys that really anger you."

     We were helping Muslims; therefore, permission to enter Chad was easy to come by. Conveniently, I forgot to mention The Team's presence with the convoy. We were still wanted in Chad after the airport incident. The guards at the border were given some American Greenbacks that seemed to blind them to the doctor's escorts. After the palm greasing, they insisted on getting their pictures taken with The Team. What a world we live in.

     After midnight, we pulled slowly into the village hidden in the back scrub of nowhere. The conditions were appalling. Med teams quickly assessed the situation then went to work. The Team took on the organization of basic sanitation. We all wore hazmat suits. 

     While all that was going on, I got on the phone to WCPN, asking them to contact Water4 in Oklahoma City to see if we could fly a team here immediately to work on access to clean water. Created in 2008, Water4 has helped the people of sub-Saharan Africa bring safe water to millions. They are a Christian non-profit. The salt of the earth. Their name is respected among Muslims as well as Christians.

     Our convoy spent three days at that location, helping medically treat and clean up the surrounding area as best we could.

      It really affected us that human beings were forced to live in such conditions today, but this wasn't our first introduction to this. Lack of education on the basics and governments stealing the country's natural wealth for their own pockets. Autocratic governments are breeding grounds for these types of situations. It is difficult to demand and receive honest and capable governments in the top tier of wealthy countries, much less in these underdeveloped and ignorant countries. As Christians, we attempt to educate the people we have dealings with on the basics of cleanliness and education. But the tribal affiliations maintain a stranglehold on many by shackling them to ancient practices that assure the preservation of that tribal power.

     On the journey home, the monotonous changed to exhilarating when we spotted a group of suspected Al Qaeda making their way along in the distance. Samuel and Alek, on-point a half-mile ahead and scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary, spotted them. I directed Alek and Samuel to pull off the road at a point where they couldn't be seen by the suspect group. Ordering the convoy to stop, we waited for scouting reports from Alek and Samuel on foot patrol. As an added precaution, I sent Ali and Kuol, the twins, to approach AQ from the opposite direction. Over time, we had learned that the twins are proficient in tracking and ambush as scouts. They were maturing before our eyes. As you have surely figured out by now, these men are more like my children than soldiers.

     A closer look at the suspected AQ party was essential to discovering their true identities and confronting them. Any meeting with Al Qaeda was likely to be quite lively.

     Mabior wasn't good at waiting. His exasperation spilled out, "I can't stand this waiting. I need to be out there."

     "Mabior, I was the same way when I first formed The Team, but, with time, you'll adjust to letting someone else be out front."

     We didn't know that Samuel and Alek had gotten to within fifty feet of the group. Wearing their Arab thawbs and keffiyehs per usual on point, they were about to purposely walk headlong into the group.

     The suspect AQ group of seven men, likewise in Arab thawbs and keffiyehs, were startled upon meeting Alek and Samuel at a bend in the trail coming directly at them. The two groups stopped and stared at one another for a moment, then the lead Arab said, "Who are you?"

     Samuel stared back at them while answering their question with a question, "Who are you? We live near here, but we do not recognize you, men. Is it not polite to enter another man's land and ask him who you are and what are you about?"

     The Arab leader seemed to relax at those words. Samuel noticed upon meeting the group that they had immediately placed their right hand on the right side of their thawb. Most likely a concealed weapon underneath. The Arabs told an outright lie about their identities and their purpose for being there. Samuel relaxed and gave them a smile and a goodbye as the men passed around them.

     After watching the men disappear into the bush down the trail, Ali and Kuol exited from the surrounding bush with weapons at the ready. Alek spoke to them, "You two are a good sight to these eyes. There was no doubt that those men were up to no good."

     Kuol acknowledged Alek's observation with a head nod. Samuel interrupted the conversation, "Here's what we're going to do. See that rock outcropping down the way there? We'll use the same shortcut Alek and I used to intercept them. Come on. I'll explain the rest while we walk. We have little time to waste."

     We sat at the roadside, with no word from the scouts but not calling for fear of giving them away. Thon quipped, "This is like a father waiting for his child to be born."

     Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Samuel and Alek climbed and made their way along the top of the outcropping while the Al Qaeda group followed the path underneath the pair. Hidden in the tall brush, Ali and Kuol let the suspects pass to get in behind them. After their passing, the twins stalked them at a safe distance.

     Arriving at the top of the exit from the outcropping on the trail, Samuel and Alek set up an ambush. Samuel pulled a rubber rattlesnake from his pocket. Alek asked where he had come up with that? Samuel, busy tying a black string to the snake, answered, "One of my cousins sent it to me from Oklahoma to remind me of home. Looks real, doesn't it?"

     As the suspect group came oblivious and cursing to the end of the overhang, Samuel let the rubber snake down slowly, appearing as if it were slithering down the rocks. Alek told me that the lead man screamed like a little girl at the sight of the rubber snake.

     That's when Alek, with his BAR, and Samuel jumped down in front of the AQ squad. This startling sight caused the AQ boys to fall all over one another as they attempted to backtrack toward the other end. In less than a minute, they encountered Ali and Kuol with their scars leveled at them. Dropping their weapons and raising their arms, Alek and Samuel kept their weapons pointed at them while the twins zip-tied their arms. Samuel questioned the lead man with no result. His impression was that they were most likely Al Qaeda. They displayed the tattoos, weapons, and distinct Arab accents associated with the group. His concern was their non-local accents. In our business, you ask yourself, "Are they recruiters, a piece of a larger group nearby, or maybe killing and stealing their way back home?"

     At last, a call from Samuel, "Chief, situation under control. We're returning with seven suspects of unknown origin and non-talkers. Be there in half-hour."

     The doctors came to me to offer their services for any wounded. I thanked them and told them that Samuel was in charge, and there would most likely be no casualties. The group gave me a puzzled look, so I explained, "Samuel is one of God's special spiritual people. He does things that are rarely explainable in worldly terms."

     Dr. Randall interjected with, "I have read stories about Samuel and have been observing him on this Mission. He is such a sensitive gentleman. He feels at a much deeper level than any other human I have known. Truly, I believe that he is close to what the world saw when our Lord walked upon this earth."

     My reply was, "You are not the first person to make such an observation, Doctor."

     Thon shouted from the top of the hill beside us, "Here they come. Got seven hot ones with them. Nobody is limping or crying. They must be okay."

     These seven prisoners would soon be transformed into rubbish when turned over to the South Sudanese military authorities. We had two choices, Turn them over to South Sudan or none. That is until Samuel filled my ear with another option.

     When Samuel turned the prisoners over to the waiting Team members, he turned toward me with that we-gotta-talk look of his. Before he ever reached me, his attack began, "Chief, we all know the fate of these prisoners if we turn them over to the military."

     With my questioning squint-eyed look, I said, "If? That implies there is another option."

     "Chief, you are so intuitive. Yes, we have another option, and that option is to question them separately to judge their attitudes. If they seem to have cracks in their faulty belief system, we release them. Of course, minus weapons and after group prayers for discernment."

     "Samuel Nathanael Winston, do you honestly think letting these men go is a wise option?"

     Samuel moved his face close into mine and hit me with his verbal baseball bat, "Chief, what I think doesn't matter. It's what God thinks that matters. He thinks we should be living, loving examples of Jesus Christ. Then and only then can we begin to bring change to this world."

     His words can wipe me out at times. "Samuel, we must stay true to our Lord. Issue the orders for an overnight stay here. I think the Doctors International group will offer no objections."

     That man keeps us affixed to the narrow path. I know he is a sinner, but I've never seen the evidence. I covet what he has. I hope that's a good covet because he looks so much like the Lord that I crave.