SHORT IN HEIGHT, TALL IN COURAGE
Chapter 12
Mabior Brings Glory to God
It was July, the rainy season, roads become impassable during this time of the year. A chance to slow down and regroup.
We are only 221 miles from the equator. With that comes tropical humidity and constant heat rash. The Team goes through many cases of corn starch to deal with our nemesis. You have snakes and other critters swimming in and out of structures during the rainy season. Then there is the continuous straight-down rain with no hint of a breeze. Feel blessed if you have never been to an area with an annual monsoon. Non-stop rain for hours upon hours. You can wear a raincoat, but after a few minutes, you are as wet underneath it as if you had never worn it. The stifling humidity drives some people mad. It is like living in a swimming pool. After a while, your skin looks like a prune. A person gets tired from carrying an extra 20 pounds of water around in their clothes.
I sat there at my desk, suffering from rain-induced melancholy. So I was happy to see Samuel walk through the main door. That is until he gave me this piece of info, "Mabior is taking on an entire Iranian suicide squad all by himself! Where's our big movie camera?"
I trolled for details while gabbing my Scars and 357, "What's he got for weapons?"
This incredible event had its beginnings earlier that morning with Samuel, Mabior, and the Children's Team on their regular Saturday morning trek to the Market in the center of town to buy food and staple items. As the elected treasurer of the CTeam, Samuel was a regular fixture on this mission. As usual, the Market was crowded. Fruits, vegetables, live and dead animals, and any other manner of food. The overwhelming smell to an American or European might put them off. Many foreigners are not used to the swarms of flies on the freshly-slaughtered meats. Eventually, one adjusts to it, paying little attention to the repugnant sights and smells that destroy many foreign appetites.
The children loved this day. Never in their short lives had they been rich enough to choose their food by desire and not by available funds. Neither were Treats on the rationed list. Whoever accompanied the CTeam gave them carte blanche on treats. Over time, other children developed jealousy over these previously homeless children being pampered like royalty. The Market had the usual bullies with their mobs filtering through the crowd. A bully's mission is to make life miserable for all children outside of their authority. However, Mabior and The Team had schooled the Children's Team in various martial arts, with the result being bullies making a wide pass around them.
The C-Team was not just housed and fed; they were clothed in some fabulous fashions furnished by WCPN, Christians, and Jews worldwide. Mrs. Iverson told Mabior, "We will not suffer our Christian Children's Team being homeless, starving, or dressed in rags."
WCPN flew the children to New York twice a year. The purpose was to meet with assorted Jewish fashion designers to be fitted and find out their clothing needs. Celebrities fell all over themselves to be seen with them. As children, they were oblivious to the extravagance of the gifts. New Yorkers were amazed at the absolute first-class manners of the children. Quite frankly, so was I. Another item in the children's repertoire was the different languages they spoke with great fluency. I know it all sounds such a fantasy, but WCPN was letting the world know where its priorities are focused. A New York Times reporter asked one of the children what he wanted to be when he grew up. The child's answer shocked him. "I want to be a living, loving example of Jesus Christ."
The world was beginning to sit up and take notice of WCPN and their Team's growing influence and following. WCPN never missed an opportunity to let the world know that our God is a loving God who cares for his children. These children did not fit the mold of spoiled rich kids. Many people around the world chastised WCPN for letting the children be around dangerous weapons and the objectionable lifestyles of The Team. They didn't know half of it.
I suppose we exaggerated the CTeam's strict upbringing in retaliation for the world at large doing such harm to their children with their secular upbringing and over-protection. I made sure the Children's Team got their fair share of treats and gadgets from me. Yes, those kids' lives are demanding, but they have evolved into exceptionally considerate and loving human beings. Trying to give them gifts was next to impossible, "Mr. Jefferson, we have no need of anything. Do not waste your money on us." Most of the time, I gave them money, which they immediately said to me something like, "We can buy widow so and so food or a nice new go-to-church hat." They weren't perfect, but they were a much-improved model. Bless them all.
At the Market this particular day, the children roamed around looking over the offerings available while Mabior and Samuel maintained a covert vigilance. They nonchalantly rotated their heads and eyes, scanning the crowd for any trouble. Underneath the long robes covering them from their shoulders to about boot level, Mabior and Samuel had their Scars hanging from their right shoulder. They carried the Team's standard 357 in a breakaway holster on their waist. Partially hidden in their right boot was a Kabar or Stiletto knife in Mabior's case. The Scars had a round in the chamber with the safety engaged. The robe served the purpose of hiding all this. Miss Akech had designed them with quick access to weapons uppermost in consideration.
Samuel felt Mabior's hand gently touch his robe. He looked over to see Mabior nodding toward a man about 20 feet away. The man seemed innocent at first glance, but as Samuel watched, the man picked items up without ever looking at them. Instead, the man seemed to be observing the Market in the same manner as they. He wore a Somali Macwii robe, but his beard style said, "Iranian."
Mabior called to Kafeel, the 16-year-old C-Team leader. Mabior stood with his back to the man as he addressed Kafeel. In that manner, Kafeel could get a discreet look at the suspect. Mabior's Tapping the outside of his leg signaled to Kafeel to walk over to the man and brush up against him. In that way, he could innocently feel for weapons.
Kafeel is young but very sharp. He has been trained by the best. His path to the man was not direct. Casually, he went from vendor to vendor till he reached the one with the man in question. Reaching for an item in front of the suspect, he shouted, "Wow, I've got to have this. How much?"
After the purchase, Kafeel made his roundabout way back to The Team. Putting the item purchased to Mabiors face for effect, he said, "AK with clip in."
By now, Mabior and Samuel had spotted two more candidates and had sent C-Team members on scout runs. All returned affirmative for loaded AKs. Samuel whispered to Mabior, "Three more, and one is a bomber if this is an Iranian squad."
Mabior assigned three children to the men they had already spotted to keep a visual on them. Then, he told Samuel to watch for the other suicide teamers while he found a better observation point. Behind them stood a two-story structure with outside stairs on the side. Those stairs led to a walkway with doors spaced evenly on one side and a three-foot wall on the outer side with one-foot drain holes every five or six feet. Mabior laid down with binoculars in the drain holes to observe. It wasn't long before Mabior returned with a scribbled map of bad-guy locates. Samuel and Mabior were rightly concerned over not knowing which is the bomber. They needed to disarm the bomber first, without the rest of the suicide team catching on.
The oldest six children were sent out to discover which man was the bomber. Time was a priority. Who knew when the bomber planned to do the dastardly deed. Then, one of the children signaled that the man next to him was the bomber. Mabior signaled all the children to return. Leaving Samuel to keep his eyes on the gangsters, Mabior took the children behind the building out of sight to give them instructions.
Mabior sent the two oldest children to buy some tape. They scurried away into the thick of the Market, looking for tape. Now he settled down to develop a strategy for destroying the assassination unit. Bomber first, then he would take the men in their proximity to him.; farthest to closest. In doing that, there was less chance of alerting the other suspects of his intentions.
Sounding more like a father than their commanding officer, he told the other 13 children to go to the compound for safety with Samuel. The children were devastated that he denied them access to a real battle. Though feeling left out, they obeyed and left for the compound with Samuel.
But, before they trudged off, Samuel took Mabior aside, telling him, "My Big Brother, you will soon become the leader of The Team. God is giving you this opportunity today to bring great glory upon him by having complete trust and faith in Him to make you the man He wants. Listen carefully; first, you pray, then you, with God's help, destroy this suicide squad. I will not be bringing The Team to help you. I will bring The Team to witness the glory you shall bring to our Lord. Remember, Lean totally on God, not on yourself. Do that, and you will destroy them without harming yourself or anyone else. You must learn to lean solely on God for all your needs. God will protect you, Big Brother. See you after the battle." Gathering the children, Samuel turned and strolled merrily away as if it were just another day, like any other. Neither did Mabior question Samuel's actions nor hesitate to proceed. He knelt down right there and prayed.
As he stood, he caught sight of the boys headed in his direction with several rolls of tape in hand. After laying the tape out for Mabior to choose, Kafeel and Ismail watched with the anticipation of giving Mabior further assistance. He instructed them to gather some Dinka drummers to act as a distracting noise to obscure the sound of his gunshots. After following the boys visually for a few seconds and pocketing two rolls of tape, he turned and walked away through the crowd toward the bomber's last position. Mabior put on his game face while, at the same time, switching on his supernatural concentration. The visible switch to a spiritual mode is a characteristic I have observed in only two people in my life; Mabior and Samuel. God walks closely beside them, always.
Scanning the crowd from its periphery, Mabior located the entire suicide team. In his estimation, the bomber couldn't have chosen a position more favorable for an adversary. He had placed himself at the entrance to a very tight alleyway. Mabior disappeared out of the Market.
After the Somali incident, you know that he hadn't run away. If anyone watched him, they might have formed that opinion by his actions, but it was strictly a feint. Mabior thinks, as most great generals have thought over the centuries, deception is at the forefront of any battle planning and attack. That thinking is just one of many similarities between Mabior and Samuel. General Patton is Mabior's favorite military leader. He liked to throw the General's quotes at me occasionally when I attempted to tell him how to do his job, "Chief, never tell me how to do things. Tell me what to do, and get out of my way." He's solid.
The bomber leaned against one of the walls bordering the alleyway on his left shoulder. Maybe the vest was heavy. His right hand made a fist. The hand tightly gripping a kill switch that would close the circuit on the explosive belt around his waist if he let up any pressure on it. In his left hand, he held a cigarette that he was in the process of smoking. Instead of being totally alert, his concentration was on a group of young Dinka women about 50 or 60 feet off to the side. What a crucial mistake by a critical element of the suicide team. Those women doubtless never realized that they were doing God's work that day. Then, several men moved in front of the thug as if choreographed. This move blocked the view of his position by the bomber's cohorts. Mabior described the scene in the retelling as, "...God moving people around in a chess match. He was skillfully developing a checkmate.
The man was upset by the men in front of him and tried to yell at them. The result was nothing escaped his mouth but a muffled, "uh." At that sound, he slid leisurely down the wall that previously had supported him. He was dead. Behind him, a man slid down the wall with him. Mabior had grabbed the man's exposed right hand while simultaneously plunging his Stiletto knife into the base of the man's skull with his left hand. Leaving the knife in the man, his left hand grasped a roll of pre-opened tape from his robe. Still keeping intense pressure on the man's right hand holding the kill switch. Of all the simple things to mishandle at this time, he dropped the roll of tape. Mabior's heart sank as he watched the tape roll down the steep incline of the alleyway.
Forcing himself to concentrate, he prayed. As he reopened his eyes, Kafeel and Ismail came rushing up the alleyway with the roll of tape extended toward him. He whispered, "I told you to stay away from me. This man can blow up at any second." Gripping the tape with his teeth and left hand, he struggled to get cooperation from the frustrating object. At this point, Kafeel grabbed the tape, pulling about a foot-long piece off. He carefully placed it in Mabior's hand. Mabior started the tape on the man's lower wrist, working his way upward till the edge of the man's knuckles were all that was left exposed. All the while, Ismail dutifully wiped the perspiration from his leader's forehead while Kafeel fed him tape. Mabior repeatedly tried to tape the hand without losing pressure, taking in deep, slow breaths. Feeling Mabior's growing frustration, Kafeel respectfully said, "I think it is time to pray."
Mabior kept his concentration on the man's hand as he said, "I think you are showing all the signs of being a man, Kafeel. I think God would love to hear your prayer."
Kafeel's eyes lit up with those words, "Father, we have come to do your work, but we have found our limits as mere humans. As always, we lean on you for your divine wisdom and power. You know that if you help us, our victory will bring even more glory to you, our loving Father, our holy God. In Jesus' name, we pray all this to you, Father. Amen."
As if God had pointed to it, Ismail walked to the opposite wall and picked up a long piece of wire. Approaching Mabior with it, he explained, "Wouldn't it be easier to use this wire instead of tape? The tape is too wide."
Mabior told Ismail and Kafeel to feed the wire around the man's knuckles as tightly as possible while he grimaced. As they began to wrap, Kafeel let go of the wire to run down the alleyway. He grabbed a short stick he remembered seeing. As he hurried back, he whispered, "This will increase our leverage and tightening power."
Wrapping the wire around the stick then twisting, The wire dug into the man's hand. Mabior instructed Ismail to go down the alleyway to the Market's backside and around the corner, making sure everyone was a safe distance away. He ordered Kafeel to go around the corner in front of them for that exact same purpose and to keep it low-key. They didn't want to attract the other member's attention.
As he waited, Mabior sat there alert but praying. This could be keyaa, goodbye, if it were not for his complete faith in our Lord.
After the boys made their signals, Mabior took in a deep breath as he released the pressure on the man's hand - nothing. Gently, he removed all of his contact with the bomber. Then, standing slowly, he signaled Kafeel to meet him with Ismail behind the buildings. Ismail told me afterward that Mabior's face looked like he had been swimming in the river.
Slowly, Mabior dragged the man down the alleyway and around the corner. Kafeel and Ismail brother-hugged Mabior.
"No time for celebration! I must get up to the second level of this building to get a clear view of the other members. I will shoot from the second drain hole from this end. Your duties here have come to an end. Get yourself to the compound, now. The pair shot away at lightning speed. In an instant they were around the nearest corner. That's when they circled around to enter the crowd to render assistance in relocating the snakes hidden there.
Climbing to the second level, Mabior crouched below the four-foot mud-brick wall that lined the outside of the walkway. The sun was behind him; that was perfect. He lay down on the walkway and peered out of the rectangular drain hole. While doing that, he released the safety of his Scars. The gun was like an extension of his body. He regretted not having his long barrel on the Scars for more accuracy, but he would make do. Scanning the crowd, he was not surprised to see an arm sticking straight up in the area of his first target. "Kafeel, you stupid child. Get out of there," he thought. Sure enough, Just to the right of the arm, about six feet, was a scruffy-looking Iranian assassin. Mabior sighted in on his target as the Dinka drums ignited in the background. He deeply inhaled then exhaled as he gently put pressure on the trigger. The drums were at full volume now. The crowd closed in and covered the man who slumped to the ground.
Ismail had the next target staked. The crowd closed in and covered that man as if this were a rehearsed performance. There was no screaming nor running; the crowd just did their job. God was expertly maneuvering the chess pieces. After each shot, Mabior closed his eyes while asking God for forgiveness. He was a professional, but he was no bloodthirsty killer. As it should do to a Christian, the killing placed a heavy weight on his heart.
Three more men to deactivate. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, Mabior found Kafeel for number four. It was done.
As he sighted in on number five, the man looked as if he was phoning someone, the sixth man most likely. Mabior quickly resighted to number six and took the shot. The crowd did its duty. Number five man's phone call to number six being unsuccessful, he began looking frantically around the crowd. Number five moved quickly to the edge of the Market. Mabior knew his subject was aware of the secret battle now. Shooting at a man moving through a crowd was fraught with danger to innocents.
During his move, the now-panicking Iranian shot a woman who accidentally got in his path. People began screaming. One brave Sudanese man ran after the culprit. The insurgent stopped, turned, and fired a shot that killed the unarmed man.
Mabior stood and jumped off the balcony wall. A man ran up to him with a bottle of water. Mabior inhaled its contents then took off in the direction of the evil man. God parted the crowd just as He had parted the Red Sea for Moses. The chase was on. Kafeel and Ismail took off running on a track parallel to Mabior's. When he came up level to them, Kafeel told him the man's path as he exited the Market. After this, Mabior took the Scars from around his neck tossing it to Kafeel. Next, he removed the 357 pistol from its holster and threw it to Ismail. Without stopping, he reached into his boot, grabbing his Stiletto knife and tucking it into his belt. Mabior upped his pace when those tasks were finished, leaving the boys behind and cheering.
Just after all this began, The Team arrived at the edge of the Market. Spreading out to conceal our presence, we all scanned the crowd. It took a bit, but we managed to locate the boys. Following their movements, we discovered Mabior just as he took the bomber down. Samuel grabbed my shirt, talking with a determined voice, "Chief, don't interfere. This is something Mabior needs to do by himself, or he'll always be in the shadow of the great James Jefferson Green Beret. Do you think The Team does not know about all the heroic deeds you have performed - about all the medals? They have tremendous respect for you. Do you think you can hide who you are? We work for God, not man. He will come out of this unscathed, trust God." Then, Samuel began to film like it was a family vacation outing.
I looked at Samuel and said, "How do you do this?"
Keeping his eye on the camera viewer, he asked me, "Do what?"
I stared at him for several seconds, then answered with, "Never mind. You are exactly what God wants you to be."
We continued to observe - and video. Thon whispered to everyone around him, "This is exciting. If only we had some popcorn."
Looking around at him, I blurted out, "This is serious, Thon."
Thon looked back at me, remarking, "We're right there with you, Chief; no popcorn is very serious."
That's when it hit me. I'm the one not leaning on God. I'm the one with the problem. I put the binoculars back up to my eyes while ordering Thon, " Don't just sit there; find us some peanuts."
I watched as Mabior handed off his Scars and 357 and took off in pursuit of the insurgent. I pointed at Garang and Chol, The Team's top runners, and told them to follow Mabior. They threw off their Macwiis and took off after Mabior like two Gazelles through the bush. The Team really doesn't need me anymore.
Mabior had set a pace within his comfort zone. As he ran through the houses and buildings, people were always there to direct him when it was time to turn. This town knew and respected Mabior and The Team. Word had spread around town when all this started.
The first sign that the Iranian was in trouble was the AK-47 he had tossed to the side of the road. Then, further along, came the discarded macwii. Next the turban.
Those discarded items that people displayed to him as he jogged past gave him renewed energy in the stifling heat that turned suddenly into a torrent of monsoon rain. The rain brought a cooling relief to Mabior. He found it difficult to keep his eyes open in the impenetrable sheets of rain, but he was soothed by the knowledge of the other man suffering the same difficulties.
Garang and Chol caught sight of him at about the two-mile mark. As the two closed in, Garang shouted over the rain clamor, "Brother, we are going to stay behind you to support you if needed." Those words gave a definite lift to Mabior's spirit.
Mabior raised his right hand from its running cadence to signal assent. Next, he placed his hand against the Stiletto to ensure its presence. Opening his mouth, the rain brought soothing moisture to his parched tongue and throat. Even in the downpour, people were outside cheering on Mabior and his two partners. Encouraging words came to his ears, "He is nearing the end."
As he flew by the three-mile point, Mabior caught his first sight of the man since leaving the Market. The man was ahead, maybe two blocks. He was slowing quickly. As he looked back and eyed Mabior, that was all he needed to call it quits. He veered slowly to the right until he stopped underneath a cedar tree. Out of breath and bending slowly down, he twisted to lean against the tree as he met the ground with his rear.
Mabior slowed to a walk around 50 yards from the man. Approaching with an examining eye for weapons, Mabior stopped about 20 feet from the clearly worn-out culprit. Wiping rain from his face, the man gave Mabior a long-visual examination, then said, "You truly are the wrath of God. It is the will of Allah that it is my time. Kill me."
Mabior looked at the man, saying, "My God is loving. I will not take your life. Stand up." After binging the man's hands behind his back and securing them with zip-ties, Mabior motioned to Garang and Chol to take possession of the prisoner. The group started back toward the Market. The prisoner had Mabior ahead of him with Garang and Chol, one on each side. Spectators lined the street. Men cheered while the women let out the zaghrouta, the long, wavering, high-pitched sound attended with a rapid back and forth movement of the tongue. Women brought water bottles to The Team members, but their prisoner was hydrated first.
As they neared the Market, the cheering and zaghrouta increased in intensity. The crowd separated to form a path to the waiting Team. Kafeel and Ismail had made their way in front of the crowd. Mabior extended his hand to them. They came to him, and, one on each hand, they accompanied Mabior the rest of the walk.
Stopping in front of us, I walked up to Mabior, giving him the biggest hug that I have ever given anyone. His words were, "Chief, without God, I could never have accomplished this. The Glory goes to Him. I need to add that without these fine young men helping me, the outcome might have been very different." Samuel hugged both of the boys.
Out of my mouth came, "My Brother, none of us have ever accomplished anything good without our God. The glory should always go to Him. Today, you have become a leader far above the others. People are going to talk about this for many years to come. I will be one of them. Job well done, my brother,"
Samuel told Mabior, "For man, these things are impossible; for God nothing is impossible. You leaned solely on him this day, Big Brother. Now, you are ready for whatever God puts upon your shoulders. And he will be putting some heavy weight on those shoulders."
Hosseini wedged his way up to Mabior to say, "Forgive my countrymen's murderous actions. There are so many good people there."
Placing his hands on Hosseini's shoulders, Mabior replied, "I am fully aware of that, Brother, or I wouldn't have you as a member of The Team. Never speak of this subject again."
The Dinka drums started up full blast. I cringed. Mabior shot me a smile, yelling above the beat, "God used these heavenly drums to save many lives this day, Chief."
I replied to his statement with a questioning look. That got a laugh out of Mabior, "Don't worry, I'll explain later."
The Army's body-disposal unit arrived to remove the remainder of the suicide squad. Accompanying the BD Unit came an Army Military Police Unit in a detention van to take charge of the live prisoner that had already spit on several people around him.
As the MPs were working their way to the prisoner, Hosseini walked up to the prisoner and slapped him hard while saying, "You have brought great dishonor to me and our country. You are fortunate we are Christians, or you would be in a body bag." The man spit in Hosseini's face.
Samuel placed himself between the prisoner and faced Hosseini, saying, "My Brother, shake the dirt from your shoes. This man is not fertile ground for anything but hate at this time. We will run into many of his kind. What has become foreign to us is the rule of law for him. We have put on our new selves, covering that with the armor of God's truth. He speaks with insults because that is what he is taught. We speak with love and truth because that is what we are taught. We follow the light; he follows the darkness. You have become strong in and by your faith."
Hosseini had tears rolling freely down his cheeks as he said, "Thank you for sustaining this faltering sinner reliving his old hateful ways."
