They were in their offices, the landlines were ringing, water dispensers grumbling and the air conditioners humming. There was a quiet flurry of activity; a mix of both excitement and apprehension. Everybody was whispering but carefully, not confirmed yet, the knowing colleague would warn with a wag of the finger. The knowing colleague was always lieutenant Mary Kariuki, she was the one with the connections and 'skin in the game.' Mary worked under brigadier general Dr. James Macharia. He was in charge of the radar and satellite comms in the Kenya air force northern command, he was literally the man keeping the place together. He was an air force officer and was as sharp and professional as they came.
Newly promoted full lieutenant Joan Mueni had the displeasure of sharing a desk with also newly promoted full lieutenant Mary Kariuki, the spoilt brat of the airforce I.T and support offices. The promotion to lieutenant was supposed to be automatic but seventy percent of officers manage to take this first baby step. Promotion in Kenyan defence forces works a bit differently. Even being an army private in Kenya is akin to being a superior being-both in pay and prestige. Men and women in the armed forces earn three to ten times the average salaryman and are exempt to many rules and taxes that weigh down the average citizen.
For the few who make it to officer status in Kenya, theirs is the nation and everything in it. For this reason only the chosen few get to be officers; the most educated, most connected and blue-blooded get to have these coveted positions and rise up the ranks. Joan Mueni like many educated in I.T had only joined as a last resort, jobs don't grow on trees in Kenya. Even with stellar academic qualifications her dad had had to take out a loan and pay one million shillings bribe to guarantee her a spot among that year's cadet class. Later he had had to add another half a million shillings to outbid other desperate parents. She had repaid her dad, built a house and was prospering in her job, she was always grateful to her dad for his belief in her.
Now as a lieutenant she was going to earn enough to buy land for a rental property at the coast. That had always been her dream. Life was good; she had a risk-free desk job, got to strut around her silver lieutenant bars, was fit, beautiful and loved by all who met her. She was supposed to be happy, but she wasn't. For the first time in her life she was beginning to hate another person, her work colleague to be exact. Her mind turned to the events of the past week as she absent mindedly watched live footage of an air force 'maintainance drone' flying too close to the Ethiopian border, sometimes even straying into the north, thankfully she was not the one flying it. That job belonged to a technical sergeant a floor below them, Joan was simply her supervisor.
In the past week a commando squad of special ops soldiers had been dropped into Mogadishu-top secret stuff but everyone in the base now knew. They had gone down there to carry out a mission that could only be described as reckless, wanton and genius at the same time.
To bolster officer and enlisted soldier quality, Turkey had opened a modern and well-run military college in one of the most protected suburbs of Mogadishu. TURKSOM Military college had so far produced five hundred police and army officers, some who now served as generals and bureaucrats in the new Somali government. A new level of competence and effectiveness had slowly but surely been injected into the Somali armed forces, ensuring a future where Somalia could get back on it's feet. Turkey had recently opened a consulate in Mogadishu and even rumors of a Turkish military base were circulating. This of course threatened the interests of powerful men in Kenya and Uganda, a solution had been sought and found.
Three days earlier the convoy of a visiting Turkish colonel had been ambushed and he had been kidnapped just outside TURKSOM military college walls. ISIS had claimed responsibility and even streamed video of the officer. A day ago the Kenyan commandos had launched a 'daring rescue mission' and freed the military attaché. He was now in a Kenyan military hospital, along with the triumphant commando squad. This success had come with a price, they had lost one soldier and three had been injured, lightly, Mary had said. Nothing had been leaked to the media yet, top brass were still covering their backsides and trying to convince the Turks of how dangerous and fluid things were in Somalia. A quiet belch made Joan raise her head slightly. Immediately her supervisor caught her eye.
He was in his small office behind a glass door with his name and rank stenciled on the door. He was a shy newly married man who tried and failed to hide his crush on her. He held her stare for a second before melting back to his work. Mary Kariuki sat down across from her and belched again. They shared an office with twelve junior officers, most of them passers by, second lieutenants there on transition to Somalia or DRC, business of state could take you anywhere. Only the most connected got juicy postings with relative calm. Joan Mueni knew her number would be up soon and she would be shipped to some godforsaken outpost in the badlands across the sands, shit holes and dried-up river beds. Only Mary Kariuki would make colonel sitting on her behind in the safest, cushiest and most air-conditioned posting.
"Have you heard?" Mary had a donut and a cup of hot tea. One of the perks of having a friend in the galley and a boss who was terrified of questioning your goings and comings.
"No I haven't. "
"This is still classified of course, " she leaned forward and munched on her donut. "I hear my boyfriend is not among the injured, he is fine. Phew! I was scared something had happened to him."
Joan let out an inner sigh and despite herself she looked up slightly and dreamily pictured lieutenant Derrick Masaku in his combat gear, fierce, muddied and bloodied but unscathed. Mary saw the look. Joan moved fast.
"How about the rest?"
"I could give a shit Jo, as long as Derrick is fine and he pulled off the mission. They will surely have to make him captain now. How is your boyfriend by the way…..what was his name?"
Joan tried to hide her disgust.
The door to major Paul Gitau's office opened and he shot out, immaculately dressed in his air force blues. He put on his cap, nodded at them and smiled shyly. Joan nodded back, Mary gave him a disgusted look. His secretary rushed to his side and took instructions as he walked.
"Where was I, right, I was asking about your boy, Haggai I think."
"Good, he's good, " she had long dumped him. He had been as unremarkable in bed as she had thought, she felt dirty whenever she thought of that night, the night of the party in colonel Bill's town home. She looked at the screen again and she saw movement, people crossing the border, heading south into Kenya, about twenty men. She wore her headphones
"Zoom in sergeant, " she ordered softly. Mary had forgotten about her and was into the last piece of her donut.
The screen was filled with an oblique, zoomed video feed of the figures. They were armed, Kalashnikovs and machetes, they were moving fast, not the average cattle-rustler sort. They were also in uniform, not Ethiopian army, probably Oromo militia. The closest village was ten kilometers south, a prosperous camel, sheep and cattle market was located there and the day was, Friday! Market day! The village would host almost five times it's population in man and beast.
"Standby sergeant, keep monitoring, " she put down her headphones, rose from her station and rushed towards the exit.
She reached the kitchen in no time, the major and three of his colleagues were in a serious conversation in one corner of a small hall used for meals by senior officers. She stood out in her tehnical officer greens in a room of blues-the men who flew the planes, the top guns. She saluted sheepishly, a colonel was in the room, no one had to know they were overly-familiar with their boss. Major Paul Gitau rushed to her side and walked her out amidst whispering and low high fives.
"What is it?"
"A group of Oromo militia is heading for a Kenyan village."
"How did you get wind of this?" Major Paul was unusually cut with her. This was not news to him.
"Sir they are armed and look primed for action."
"Again I will ask, how did you get by this information?" He hissed, looking around to make sure they were alone on the corridor.
"The drone, we strayed into Ethiopian territory, just a little, carefully as commanded, " major Paul had given the order himself.
"Go back to your desk and tell no one about this, " he was sweating, what was this?
"Sir, we could warn the police and the reservists, " she was taken aback by his lack of emphaty.
"That is not our job lieutenant, now go before I lose my temper. Wait…
, " she has started to turn her back on him. "Who else knows?"
"My drone pilot, technical sergeant Ahmednassir…."
"Okay, go. I will talk to him."
She walked into the office a bit confused, what the hell? A group of four female officers were crowded around Mary Kariuki. She had her giant smartphone out and it was on loud speaker, Mary was glowing with joy and pride. Joan almost fainted when she heard a general shout of greeting from the phone, it was him. Her heart skipped a beat, she sat down on an empty desk closest to the door and asked God why He let a man she barely knew have such an effect on her. Damn him, lieutenant Derrick was in Somalia for Pete's sake! It was however elating to hear his voice, she must have smiled too broadly because major Paul's secretary saw her and smiled thinly. Joan did not care.