Free Under Siege by Keith Douglass

land in Natabi, the capital of New Namibia,” Stroh said, looking at some papers. “The Delta platoon came in from Qatar and should be on site ten hours before we get there. The Delta guys will bring a plane-load of ammo for us and them. Everything except our special fused twenty millimeter rounds. Any questions?”
    “Yeah, Stroh,” a voice called out. “When do we eat?”
    “You ate an hour out of Miami. So I’d guess in another three hours or so you might expect a snack.”
    Murdock sat beside Ed DeWitt. “Hey old buddy, how are you doing? But more important, how is Milly?”
    “She’s good. We’re not sure, but there may be something to announce soon, family-wise.”
    “Fantastic. Don’t forget the cigars. And give my best to Milly and my condolences for having to put up with you. Now, are you getting your boys slapped into shape?”
    “You left them in shape. Lots of new faces. You do get your troops in harm’s way from time to time.”
    “Yeah, it happens. We don’t know who we have to deal with down there in Africa. One renegade with some troops, or somebody else. The place has about a fifty-man army and not much more firepower. We could be in for a lot of trouble.”
    “From fifty troops?”
    “Not really.”
    “How can he hope to hold out against even the fifty local troops? And they must have more than that.”
    “Yeah, about twelve hundred soldiers, but they’re friendly. Delta might have found the culprits before we get there.”
    New Namibia Countryside
    Back in the plantation mansion, Badri found a pair of rooms where the First Lady could stay. She would have her own bath and he could lock both doors from the outside. Alexi Edwards fussed around so much it made Badri angry.
    “Old man, settle down or go outside and dig your own grave. Take your choice. I’m sick of your harping and jumping and being in awe of the woman. She’s just another woman. She’ll be here until I decide to move. Now get some food ready for us. Tell your staff to go about its usual duties, or they too might join the corpses in the front parking lot.”
    Edwards scooted out of the room looking over his shoulder at the invader of his house. His face showed anger, but it held fear as well. Badri nodded. He would be no trouble. The bodyguards were dead, he was free and clear until the people from the airport figured out which way he went and where he might be. He had plans where he would move, but not yet. He sat in a big chair and looked out across a five-mile swath of green trees, fields, and a few buildings. He had uncovered a box filled with good cigarsand worked on one as he considered his situation. A radio. He needed a standard band radio to watch the world situation. It couldn’t be long now. The whole plan was based on what the president’s woman did. Now they knew in Tehran. Maybe it would come tomorrow morning. He dreamed of being there, of getting back to his tank company and leading it. But he was a soldier, and for the past five years a top Iranian Secret Service agent. He followed orders. Right now the First Lady of the United States was his project. A vital one. The trigger that would detonate the whole attack.
    He found a radio in the next room near a large television set. He tuned the radio until he found a station with news in English. He was glad he had studied languages in his military training. The news was mostly local, coming from the capital of Natabi. Then a news story came on about Iran. He listened closely.
    “Iraqi officials said they have proof that Iran is massing men and material along their common border. Iran has reported it is nothing more than a military exercise, to determine the mobility of the Iranian armed forces. They say they reserve the right to move their own troops and materiel around in their own nation whenever and wherever they wish to.”
    Badri grinned as he heard the news story. Good, they were getting ready. It couldn’t be long now. They had the First Lady the