Into Africa

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I own no Castles. Or Becketts. Rating: K+ for language. Time: The present day, but in an alternate universe.

"Really?" He said. The colonel wouldn't have minded more sarcasm. In fact, he would have expected it. But the civilian sitting next to him was an unknown quantity. He looked the man over. Khaki pants and shirt, but with nicely shined and expensive boots. All he needed was a sign that said "CIA".

"Really, Rick. You'll be riding herd on an archeological expedition."

"How big is this expedition?"

"Between a dozen and eighteen people. Mostly grad students."

That was the civilian. He was sure the man was an analyst or some kind of paper pusher. He took a deep breath. "My team is down to ten men. Sergeant Wallace, my comm sergeant, is in a French military hospital in Dakar, shitting blood. My assistant engineer sergeant is teaching the Estonians and some other NATO troops about IEDs, not that they'll ever get outside the wire to see any."

"Perhaps I should explain to the captain some of the background of this mission?" That was the civilian again. Rick knew he was going to love having the background explained to him. The colonel just nodded.

"Captain, there are political reasons for this on two levels."

Rick nodded. He was sure that political reasons on two levels was at least four times as bad as a political reason on just one level. The civilian went on.

"Duquesne University-New York wanted to send an archeological team here, but the government of Niger turned them down flat, as they should have. All that Niger saw was an opportunity for the local jihadis to kidnap some Americans and give their government a huge headache. But the university didn't let that stop them."

"The head of the archeology department is the son of a senator or something?" Rick guessed.

The civilian smiled. "No, but Senator Cliff Souder is a graduate of Duquesne and he's very good friends with the Dean of Students and the Dean of the College of Liberal Arts. Their daughter is leading the expedition. Senator Souder is very fond of his alma mater and agreed to help."

"I'm fond of my alma mater, too, but I don't want to get a bunch of students killed. Can't we talk the senator out of what is obviously a dumb idea?"

"There's more to this, Rick." That was the colonel. "There are a lot of people in DC and elsewhere who want to end the war on terror. They say it's lasted too long and cost too much in blood and treasure. We ignored Afghanistan after the Russians left and that got us 9/11. We left Iraq and ignored Syria and we then had to go back and fight the Islamic State. Now we're here in the Sahel and they want us out now. Hell, we don't need to garrison all of these places, we just need some people with muddy boots on the ground to tell us what the hell is going on so we don't get blindsided. People like you."

The civilian went on. "The site of the proposed dig is in the Air Mountains in northern Niger. The site is here, on Hill 1750A, which is just about the highest place in the whole range." He tapped a satellite photo.

Rick saw where this was going. "So, if we put an electronic listening post there, we could pick up jihadi communications from Libya, Mali, Chad, Algeria and Niger itself."

Both the colonel and the civilian smiled. "You've got it, Rick. And don't worry that were going send you up there with just your team. We have a reinforced Ranger platoon for you. We're adding a couple of machine gun teams, a mortar team, a recoilless rifle team and a Ranger sniper team. Plus, some additional medics and we even have a doctor for you, since you'll be so far away from any other medical facility."

"Who's the doctor, sir?" Rick was curious.

The colonel checked something on his desk. "A Captain Myron Fields."

Rick frowned. He knew, or knew of, all of the doctors who would be tough enough to keep up with a Special Forces team if things turned to shit, as they had a habit of doing.

Seeing his concern, the colonel continued. "He's already here. You can meet him over at the base hospital after we're done here."

"A reinforced platoon isn't much to go up against the jihadis out there. Once they realize we're sedentary, they can mass and overwhelm us."

The colonel handed Rick the satellite photo. "1750A is the core of an old volcano, what we'd call a mesa. The volcano itself was worn away by erosion, but the plug, or core, remained. There's only one good way up the damned thing and a squad could hold off a battalion."

"One good way?" Rick asked, emphasizing the word good.

"We've had our mountaineering specialists look over satellite and drone photos of the mountain. They've identified ways that a good climber could get up. We're providing you with sensors and drones to keep an eye on the whole mountain. And people to run them as well."

The civilian spoke. "We can also let you have a Nigerien Army team. We've trained them, equipped them, and we pay them directly so no one in the Ministry of Defense gets their hands on their pay. A Lieutenant Diori is in charge of a team of fifteen men. He's been trained by us and the French and speaks good English and French. I understand you speak French, Captain?"

Rick nodded. "I picked up what they speak here. It has a lot of African loan words and some changes in pronunciation, but I can get by."

Now the colonel spoke. "We're giving you an ELINT team from the ISA and the CIA is sending its own team."

The civilian smiled. "Our facility is highly automated, so it only requires four men to run it. I understand the military Intelligence Support Activity team is twelve strong." He sounded pleased that his equipment only needed a third of the people as the Army's team. But, Rick knew, a dozen military electronic intelligence specialists in a foxhole were better than four civilians if push came to shove.

"Why are the archeologists so interested in this place?" Rick asked.

"What do you know about the Roman Empire?" That was the civilian. Rick was positive he'd love to show off his knowledge of Rome.

"They had a great army and they went out of business a long time ago."

"When most books show you a map of the Empire, there's a whole bunch of land in one color and you're told that that was the Roman Empire. The Empire traded, explored and patrolled a lot of what was considered out of the Empire. They traded with Ireland, for instance, and the Roman Navy patrolled for pirates in the Irish Sea and often raided pirate dens in Ireland. They've recently found the remains of a Roman fort in Ireland. The traded with what is now Denmark and on into the Baltic Sea. They had a huge trade with India and East Africa. And Roman troops went there as well. Sometimes as mercenaries protecting traders, sometimes as guards for diplomatic missions and sometimes they explored and even garrisoned places. You're going to one of those places."

Rick wondered if that all couldn't have been said in one sentence.

The civilian droned on. "Dr. Beckett has made her career out of studying the Roman Empire's activities outside the formal boundaries if the Empire. She's found evidence that the Romans had a small fort in the Air Mountains. Caravans have been going from Sub-Saharan Africa to the Mediterranean coast for millennia before Rome was anything more than a little town on the Tiber River. She suspects that the Romans put the fort there for much the same reason we're going there, as a listening post to pick up intelligence on the desert tribes and raiders they might send out to harass caravans headed for the Roman Empire."

"How did she get from the idea that the Romans has a base somewhere in Niger, to having one on that piece of rock?"

"Satellite photos." The civilian said. "I'm no expert at photo interpretation, but the folks over at the National Reconnaissance Office say that this looks like a Roman fort." He handed Rick a satellite photo. It looked like a bunch of rocks to Rick. The civilian droned on about satellite photos.

"So, were going to set up an electronic listening post under the guise of guarding an archeological expedition." Rick broke in.

"I wouldn't put it quite that way, Captain."

I would. Rick thought. "Colonel, can I at least get Sergeant Bullard back from NATO?"

"We'll see, Rick. In the meantime, my staff will be cutting your orders and working all the kinks out. The archeologists won't be here for maybe a week, so you have time. Perhaps Sergeant Wickes will be out of the hospital by then as well."

Rick stood. "In that case, sir. I should be on my way."

Rick had saluted and was headed for the door when the civilian stopped him. "Captain Rodgers, I have two books by Dr. Beckett on Africa. One is about Rome in East Africa and one is an earlier work about Rome and the Saharan caravans. You might wish to read them. They're not the kind of dull, jargon related stuff you usually get from academics. They're both quite interesting." With the books, he handed Rick a sheaf of satellite imagery.

Rick took the books without much interest.

Rick walked across the main street of Base Aerienne 201, beginning to sweat at once in the African heat. By the time he reached the team house, he was soaking. He opened the door and entered the blessed air conditioning.

Warrant Officer Bill Reed, the team's second in command, grinned at him and got a beer from the refrigerator and handed it to him. Reed was the only African-American on the team, which Rick thought was wrong. In Africa they should have more, so they'd fit in better.

Reed himself was several inches shorter than Rick but nearly forty pounds heavier. And, as people said, Reed had muscles in places Rick didn't even have places.

"I saw the civilian headed for the colonel's office. Figured you might need a beer when you got back. Who was he?'

"He wasn't a SADist." Rick said, using the slang term for the CIA's paramilitary people, the Special Activities Division. "He's an analyst, or worse, some kind of administrator."

"So, what's the good news, Boss?"

Rick explained it to him. Reed nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. We can always use more intel on the jihadis and having a senator on board will help."

"I'll remind you of that when we're stuck on some miserable rock with a bunch of college kids and a platoon of Rangers." He handed Reed the satellite photos and the books. "Take a look at the imagery we got. We'll need to figure out how were going to set things up."

"What are the books for?"

"The civilian gave them to me. They're by the leader of the expedition, a Doctor Beckett."

Reed whistled. "Dr. Beckett is a hottie. Take a look." He held the book out, showing Beckett's photo on the back.

"As long as the photo isn't thirty years old."

"You'd know about that kind of stuff, boss."

Rick shook his head. "I have never allowed my picture to be released for any of my books. So, get back to work. They have a doctor for us. He's over at the base hospital. I'm going to check him out. I've never heard of him. Name's Myron Fields."

Reed shrugged. "He could be one of those guys who climbs Mt. Everest barefoot."

"Maybe." He replied, without much enthusiasm.