Kungawo stretched out on a resplendent white leather sofa in his private quarters watching a breaking news program on a sixty inch LED TV. The picture was grey and skewered as if the camera hadn’t been properly coupled and adjusted. It jerked every couple of minutes.
It was a report on the security situation in the aftermath of the nuclear explosion in Illinois. Four bombs had been used since then in four other cities with no success. The darkness was still as strong as ever. Some argued even stronger.
Germany, France, China and North Korea had followed Russia’s lead; it had been a wasted and extremely costly endeavour. Millions had died with little or no success in repelling the darkness forces. The phone rang before he could give the matter more consideration.
“Yes??” He barked into it.
“It’s me sir __”
Kungawo leaped to his feet. “Donald! You’re alright __ what happened? Where are you?”
“Somewhere in Cameroon __ not sure exactly __ but yes __ I am alright.”
“Find out where you are ___ I will send men to come get you or I could get on the phone with the Cameroonian President. His people will pick you up and put you on a plane to South Africa. How does that sound?”
“Very good sir __ I want nothing more than to be back home now.”
“Good! How did the drop go?”
“It went well.”
There was a long silence on the other end.
“Do you think she can rectify the vaccine with those mobile labs?”
“Honestly sir ___ I really do not know. I sincerely pray she can but ___”
Kungawo sighed. “Anyway that’s not important at the moment. Get back here first. All will follow in good time.”
Donald nodded and was about to hang up when he remembered. “What about your meeting with NATO?”
“It’s still on __ will leave in a couple of hours. I delayed it as long as possible cos I wanted more information on you and your mission.”
“Could you delay it a little longer? I’d like to accompany you if that’s ok.”
“You sure you’re up to it?”
“I am sir. I was lucky, got out without a scratch.”
“That’s good. I will delay for a few hours longer. Get here as soon as you can. Will call the Cameroonian President as soon as am done talking with you__ ok?”
“Ok sir __” and the connection was cut. Donald sighed and leaned back in his chair rubbing his head in his hands.
Fifteen hours later
Donald’s eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay awake in the rumbling confines of the Gulfstream which was one of the many planes in the South African presidential fleet.
Kungawo Lethabo dozed on a comfortable looking sofa not far from him. Members of his security force loitered at varying points in the Gulfstream’s expansive cabin.
He rubbed his eyes, still fighting slumber. He knew he really ought to try and get some rest. He hadn’t gotten any sleep in almost thirty six hours and counting. The strain was starting to tell. Not to mention having survived what should have been a fatal plane crash.
When Kungawo saw images of the wreckage he’d insisted the doctor’s give him a thorough medical examination. That delayed their takeoff time for two hours. Miraculously the doctor’s weren’t able to discover anything wrong with him. He’d escaped from the wreckage without so much as a scratch save a few superficial bruises. Life was strange like that.
His eyes hardened. Almost twenty men had been with him at the start of the mission. Now he was the only one that remained. He was tempted to ask the powers that be why but dismissed the urge to question to the heavenly bodies obviously looking out for him. He wasn’t a religious man, but he was wise enough to realize that his survival was nothing short of miraculous.
His thoughts drifted, centring on the one and a half hour security briefing he’d received upon departure from Durban. NATO forces were calling a meeting of all remaining head of states worldwide. The venue for this meeting was the aircraft carrier, the US SS Harrier presently navigating the now frigid waters of the black sea.
He hadn’t had time to study the flight plan, but their destination was a small airstrip in Russia. From there they would be flown to the SS Harrier via military plane.
He closed his eyes again and would have drifted to sleep if he didn’t hear loud cries coming from the cockpit. He leaped to his feet instantly drawing his weapon.
Five other soldiers did the same as Kungawo stirred.
“What is happening?” He demanded his eyes wide with fright and worry.
“Stay here sir __” Donald barked leading the men to the cockpit. He prayed it wasn’t another infected attack because he was so not in the mood.
He reached the cockpit door and put his ear against the shiny polished wood. There was no sound. Taking a deep he reached for the door handle. His hand tightened around the gun and he pulled the door open.
The pilots were staring out the window with gaping mouths. He frowned and stepped in to see what they were looking at. His jaw dropped. At a point almost at the opposite horizon he saw tall hulking shapes. They were over ninety feet tall with black metallic looking skin that glinted like steel.
Their huge legs waded through the sea in a slow leisurely pace as if they had all the time in the world. Fiery dragon like beasts accompanied them flying over their shoulders like pets with red eyes fixed on something in the distance ahead.
“What in the world__” Donald gasped lowering his weapon slowly. “Is everyone seeing this?”
“Yes sir __” A man stammered behind.
“I have altered course slightly __” The pilot said in a shaky voice. “We might lose an hour or so but __” He paused swallowed.
“But what??” Donald asked turning to face him.
“Nothing sir __ our previous course was taking us directly towards them.”
“But you’ve corrected that?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good! Increase speed, let’s try and put as much distance between us and them.”
“Very good sir ___ but what do we tell the president?”
“Nothing __ no need to alarm him unnecessarily. Samson __” He began turning to the man behind him.
“Stay with the pilots and keep me informed on any developments.”
He started back. It was the pilot’s voice that stopped him.
“What if they attack us?”
Donald paused not turning around. “We run __ and if that doesn’t work __ then we die.”
His grim words left a cold silence in the cockpit.
The president had his eyes fixed on his face as he approached.
“What was the problem?”
“Nothing sir __ the pilots were simply sharing a joke. No biggie __”
Kungawo cast a disbelieving look his way but shook his head deciding not to push the issue. He leaned back in his chair and promptly went back to sleep.
Donald sighed as he and the men of Kungawo’s security team went back to their seats and strapped themselves in. One crossed his fingers while another began to say a quiet prayer under his breath. Donald fixed a preoccupied gaze on the praying soldier. Yeah maybe he was the smart one. If he knew any prayer he would probably say one now.
That thought stayed with him so long he decided to act. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and said the words
“Help us father __”
His eyes opened once more and he sat tensely waiting. He’d soon know if his prayer was answered.