The Nairobi Report: Final Episode

If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.

-Niccolo Machiavelli-

Disclaimer
The characters in this story are purely fictional they bear no relation or connection to persons living or deceased.

He stood up with the rest of the VIPs and shifted uncomfortably on his feet, he watched intently as the VP led the president to one of the armchairs. The president stood before the chair and faced the crowd while the VP and army chief took their positions on either side of him.

Everyone remained at attention while a police band played the national anthem.

Inside the G-series Capt. Rusoze keying away furiously on his laptop completed a second infra red sweep of the pavilion aided by an FLIR (Forward looking Infra Red) lense built into the roof of the Benz, the lense could detect anything from concealed weapons to bomb materials.

The anthem soon ended and the guests shuffled into their seats, soon after wards a march past of various trade unions and cooperative societies ensued, the marchers carried banners praising the government and president.

Seated four chairs to the left behind the president he could even hear snippets of a conversation between the president and the VP he caught the words ‘Nairobi’ and ‘Summit’ and surmised they were discussing the forthcoming East African federation meet in Nairobi. The earpiece felt quite uncomfortable in his left ear and he wondered how soon he’d receive the signal, all he wanted to do was to get this over with and reunite with his wife and kids. As if on cue the earpiece came to life, “Julius Caesar” said a female voice.

His heart resumed it’s thumping, nervously he glanced around him ‘was he being watched?’ suddenly his hands started twitching uncontrollably the way they always did when he panicked,

He knew he had to get up and complete his assignment but he felt a crippling paralysis take over his entire body, was he doing the right thing for his family? He asked himself for the hundredth time that day. “Julius Caesar” the female voice crackled again in his ear, shocking him out of his stupor.

He fingered the pen that was placed in his coat pocket for a few seconds, then he slowly removed it and twirled it between his fingers and all the while he thought of his family.

Inside the radio shack Rwakitata’s face was a contorted mass of anger and frustration.

“Send out an orange alert to the Bravo team” he ordered the sergeant, “tell them to stand by for a ‘Tsunami’ this was the PGB code for an immediate evac of the president to a safety zone, all resistance met was to be termed as deadly and swiftly eliminated, simply put, you didn’t want to be in the PGB’s way during a Tsunami.

The sergeant punched a few keys and spoke into a mic protruding from his earpiece

“Bravo, Alpha team this is command center, defcon Orange, acknowledge and confirm.”

“Command center this is Bravo command, confirm Zulu Zero Delta,” A voice responded on the radio speakers. “Command center this is Alpha command, confirm Zulu Omega Delta” another voice crackled on the speakers.

“Bravo and Alpha moving into position sir,” Sgt. Kagonyera announced.

He had to get up now, or else he’d never find the nerve, he placed the pen in between his thighs and stood up leaving it on the chair, slowly he shuffled his way past the guests in his row and found his way out of the pavilion. He approached the soldier who had taken his briefcase earlier.

“I need to retrieve a speech for the minister from my briefcase,” He lied, trying to sound less terrified than he felt.

“Tag please,” the soldier barked.

He handed over his location tag wishing the ground would swallow him up that instant.

“Follow me sir,” the soldier beckoned.

Back in the pavilion on the seat he had just vacated lay his pen, a seemingly innocuous piece of stationary, but it was no ordinary pen.

The fountain pen was an ingeniously designed killing machine.

The pen was in fact a hollow casing that held a liquid known as nitroglycerin; this particular pen had been designed to hold about 500 millilitres of the substance.

At the cover end of the pen was encased an electronic receiver that had been programmed to detect a certain radio frequency emanating from a transmitter within a 300 meter radius.

In a separate compartment separated from the first by an aluminum foil was 10 milliliters of methyl nitrate.

Two minutes after detection of the frequency the electronic receiver was designed to heat up and in the process cause the aluminum foil to melt in turn releasing the 10 milliliters of methyl nitrate.

Both nitroglycerin and methyl nitrate are relatively harmless substances, but combined they form a highly volatile and combustible substance that boils to temperatures reaching 95 degrees Celsius and within 3 minutes of mixing explode with devastating effect.

He followed the soldier to a tent that held various items from cameras to phones, items that had obviously been kept from the guests for security reasons.

The soldier located his briefcase and handed it over to him, “you have two minutes sir.”

“I’ll be quick,” he replied.

Quickly he flipped open the briefcase and pretended to leaf through the papers.

Built into the bottom of the briefcase was a small blue button that when pressed would initiate a tiny electronic signal on a frequency capable of being read by the electronic receiver on the killing machine he had left on the chair. He was the unwilling assassin, his was the finger to pull the trigger, all he had to do was press that button and walk away, walk back to his family.

He closed his eyes and applied pressure on the button.

At that very moment in the radio shack Sergeant Kagonyera sat up with a start, “what the bloody hell?”

“What is it soldier?” Rwakitata asked, obviously alarmed.

“It’s a low frequency sir, and it’s not ours, a few seconds ago someone transmitted a signal less than 200 meters from here.”

“Can you locate the sender?” Rwakitata was visibly shaken.

“No sir, it’s a signal that reroutes the source ID through various channels, it’s virtually untraceable, this kind of toy is very new stuff.”

The electronic receiver melted away the aluminum foil and the methyl nitrate started seeping through the foil creating a hissing sound as the two liquids started to mix.

“Holy mother of god,” Sgt. Kagonyera was beside himself.

“Talk to me soldier,” Rwakitata screamed.

“I….I….I used an advanced triangulation programme to reengineer all possible signal reception,” Kagonyera looked like he had just seen a ghost.

“And...?” the colonel grabbed Kagonyera by the scruff of the neck.

“It was picked up by a receiver in the pavilion,” Kagonyera spoke like the world was about to come to an end.

And indeed it was, their entire lives were about to change forever. Both men were aware that all it took to detonate a bomb was a minute signal and as they stared at each other in shock they also knew they had very little time if any to avert a possible threat.

The two liquids began to boil with such intensity the pen shook and rolled off the chair onto the floor.

The march past was almost complete, soon the MC would stride up to the mic and invite the guest of honor to address the people.

“Commence Tsunami, all units proceed as designated,” Rwakitata was screaming into his mic furiously. Just my luck he cursed, just bloody perfect. “Alpha team, secure ‘Rabbit’ and prepare for evac.”

Rwakitata bundled out of the shack and raced towards the pavilion gun in hand , even as he labored to cross the 50 feet separating him and the pavilion commando units had sprung to life and were tearing into the pavilion brushing aside anything and anyone in their way as they closed in on president Mubeseni.

The sound of a helicopter caused him to look up and he felt a sense of relief as he watched an Mi-78 chopper bunk toward the center of the field attempting a safe landing.

The Alpha team would hand over ‘Rabbit’ as the president was called to the Bravo team who would spirit him away to one of many secure locations.

Rwakitata neared the pavilion, he was hoping a human shield had already been formed around ‘Rabbit’ time was of the essence.

He pressed his earpiece and connected with Capt. Rusoze, “You’re on point, perform post op analysis and mop up, I am leaving with Rabbi…………..


The explosion was loud and deafening, the sheer force of the detonation lifted Rwakitata off the ground and threw him 5 feet back, as he landed on his back he sighted a huge ball of fire and smoke envelop the entire pavilion.

Pandemonium broke out, there were screams everywhere as people collided with each other attempting to find a way out of the field.

Dazed and shaken Rwakitata got to his feet and stared, “Sweet Mary” he muttered.

The canvas roof was a tattered mess as smoke billowed from the pavilion and the floor was a mass of mangled bodies and chairs. The president was lying somewhere in that mess.

The Colonel sunk to his knees.

THE END

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