Tuesday: The Phone Call

As it turned out, I was the last one on the team to arrive 'cause Ed and Johnny were there already. I spare you the description of our get-together, except for the fact that we were all three equally puzzled by these "new guys" and also by the apparent ease they spent 30.000 Euros just to have the pleasure of a chat with us. We agreed they knew us from our intervention in the battle for N'djamena, in the Chad conflict, three years ago - kind of a no-brainer 'cause the Swiss had mentioned that to Ed, anyhow. We also agreed that someone willing to spend 30.000 just like that, would be probably a very nice employer - depending of the job they would want us to perform, obviously... I just hope these guys are not going to be part of some Al Qaeda secret cell and ask us to kill Obama, or something crazy like that. Nah... Just kidding. The Al-Qaeda doesn't hire mercenaries - at  least not our kind. They have their own system of "martyrs" I guess, but you see my point: if the task is not something irrealistic, this could very much be a dream job. What else...?

Oh, something that impressed us in a positive way, was the fact the "new guys" had left a cellular phone for us in the main desk, one of those prepaid models. That told us they were playing it super-safe: having a cell phone it's a way to bypass the hotel desk. So, we had dinner in separate tables (no need to draw unnecessary attention to our team) and it was a very nice dinner, by the way - unfortunately, being "at work" none of us tasted the great wines they had in the cellar...

Between the air conditioner and the triple sized bed, I slept all night like a baby.





The hotel swimming pool.
I can hardly believe we are being PAID to be here.

After breakfast we hit the hotel swimming pool, taking the cell phone with us. It's some outstanding pool, I'll tell'ya! Nice view too, with lots of bikinis...

The morning went by, so lunch time. After lunch, we decided to wait together in my room. The call came at 16:00 sharp. I was the one closer, so I picked up:
"Hello?"
"Hello" said a voice with a slight accent on the other side. "Eagle seven eight ?"

I almost dropped the phone: "Eagle seven eight" used to be my radio callsign in the N'djamena deal. How in hell those guys knew that? How in hell they knew immediatly it was me awnsering, not Ed or Johnny? Well, something to think about later.

"Eagle seven eight?" The voice insisted.
"Yes, it's me." I awnsered, after recovering my voice.
"Are your associates with you ?"
"Yes, we are all here."
"May I ask you to switch to loudspeaker, please ?" The man's voice was polite.
"Of course, just give me a second." I switched the phone to loudspeaker mode and placed it on the table. The three of us got around it.
"Raptor twenty-one ?" The voice asked again. It was Johnny's callsign.
"I'm here" Johnny awnsered.
"Exordia ?" Ed's call, this time.
"I'm here too" he said.
"I hope you gentlemen had a pleasant trip and found your accomodations suitable ?"
"Yes, everything is OK, thank you" I said.
"Good. I regret to inform  you gentlemen  that one of the people who was supposed to meet with you today had some unexpected delay. So, if it is convenient for you gentlemen, the meeting will take place tomorrow, Wednesday, in the afternoon ? We will take care of all the extra expenses regarding your accomodation, of course..."
I glanced at my mates and they both nodded."No problem, tomorrow it is" I awnsered.
"Wonderful" the guy on the phone said. "Do you gentlemen need something else ?"
"Nothing, thank you. The only thing we need is more information about the job, but I suppose that will have to wait 'til tomorrow ?"
"Indeed" The man seemed almost apologetic. "In that case, a car will pick you up at your hotel, tomorrow at 18:00  if this will be convenient to you ?"
We changed glances. "We were under the impression that the meeting would take place here, in the hotel ?"
The Swiss (or whoever was the man with the accent) seemed apologetic again: "I'm afraid my employers prefer to meet you gentlemen in a place less... public. Is this a problem ?"

I checked with the others: both shrugged. "No problem at all".
"Perfect. The driver will look for Mr A. Michel on the front desk. Is this acceptable?"
"Completely."
" Very well. Until tomorrow then."
"'OK, bye".
When I pressed the button to terminate the call, we looked at each others:
"Heyyy! It seems we're going to have an extra day of vacations" laughed Johnny.
Ed glared at him, a bit annoyed: "Yeah, another day to wonder what this deal is all about. You guys noticed what he said about "his employers" ?"
"Yeah" I said. "Seems like our Swiss is not the boss, after all."
"So it seems, yeah. And how did he knew it was you on the phone ?"
"I wonder the same" I said. "I propose we sweep this room for bugs and cameras ?"
"I don't think we're going to find anything. Probably the guy knew your voice already."
I remembered the driver saying he had seen my picture: If they had pictures, probably they had recordings too. "Maybe you're right".
"So, we have one more day to kill" commented Johnny. "What about ?"
"Pool, dinner, sleep, breakfast, pool, lunch, rest" awnsered Ed, concisely.
Me and Johnny both pretended to be very disappointed: "No Monte-Carlo night-life, then ?"
"Nope."

Monday, afternoon: The Trip

I showed up very early in the cafe, warned the owner that someone would leave a package for me, and dropped him a 20 note "for your help". Then, I sat in the terrace of another cafe in front and took breakfast. A very long breakfast in fact, 'cause the UPS guy only showed up around nine. I let slip a couple of minutes  and went to get my package.

My pal was not lying: those guys were for real. Inside a large sized envelope I found an airplane ticket to Nice, via Paris, depart within two hours. A first class ticket, in Air France, no low-cost companies here... Also a small package with 10.000 Euros and a printed card: "Car with driver will pick you up in Nice airport. Room reserved in Hotel Metropole, Monte-Carlo, under the name of Mr. A. Michel. Please wait for call."

"Hotel Metropole, huh?" I tought to myself. "Well, well, well..." 

I had to run, to make it on time to the airport: I sure was glad I had packed already.





The Eiffel Tower through the airplane window.

Let me tell you, the people of Air France have some REAL respect for passengers holding first-class tickets: they practically carried me to the airplane and a very nice stewardess made sure  "Mr A. Michel" was really confortable, that I had all the magazines and drinks I wanted, that I knew how to change channels on my personal LCD, the works. I reclined my seat and stretched the leg rest:  in first class the seats have so much leg room that you can almost park a Volkswagen in there.

The flight to Paris toook some time, but I was asleep most of it. The stewardess woke me up when the Airbus started the final approach to Orly airport and I took a look through the window: I was able to see the Eiffel Tower in the distance and then the landing gear touched ground.

With some time to spare until my next flight, I parked my butt in one of the airport bars, sipping coke and thinking about life. I was curious about this deal. A bit worried, but curious. What about this Swiss guy my pal told me about? The only Swiss I talked to in my entire life was my banker. Who ever heard about a Swiss trying to hire mercenaries? I smiled to myself: maybe the competition between swiss banks is getting rough? Of course this alleged "swiss" could be as fake as Mr. "A. Michel". I gave up thinking about it. Everything would be explained soon, so, why try to guess ?

Metropole Hotel in Monte-Carlo.
Now, THIS is impressive.

Another Air France bird took me to Nice in less then an hour, a short jump. I didn't sleep this time. When I peeked through the airplane window, I could see the Mediterranean glittering, and the city of Nice spreading along the coast. I tought that, if I could, I would try to have some beach time - although I doubted that would be possible. The air was warm and you could feel the scent of pines. When I came out of the VIP lounge, the sun made me blink.

A quiet guy in a dark suit was waiting for me holding a card spelling "Mr. A. Michel". He took a look at me and made a courteous smile:

"Monsieur Michel ?"

"Oui" I awnsered in French. "How do you know me ?"

"I saw a picture of you, sir" he awnsered, as if it was obvious.

"Of course" I tought. I declined his offer to carry my bag and he drove me to Monte Carlo in a big, black, silent Mercedes. The hotel Metropole it's a five-star as you can only find in the Côte d'Azur: a "Palace" with rooms the size of tennis courts. If the objective was to impress me, they suceeded. I was impressed.

Monday, 2 a.m. - The Beginning.

Everything started just a couple of days ago, last Monday. It was late, maybe 2 or 3 in the morning. I had fallen asleep in front of the laptop, browsing the net in search of news. Well, news there were plenty, but nothing definitive: The French and the Brits are still pounding the Lybians, but running out of steam fast, or at least so it seems. The Italians, choking with refugees, are  crying out loud for the end of the "disastrous NATO intervention". I can sympathize with that. Ghadaffi does not seem to be on the run anytime time soon, and the Italians are picking up the tab of all those refugees by themselves. If NATO "gets the hell out of Dodge" - as the Americans use to say - maybe dear Colonel Ghadaffi will need some seasoned mercenaries - not the kind of african fourth-rate guns-for-hire that he have now. We'll see.
There was something else on the news and this was very promising: apparently, in the Kingdom of Bahrain (this is in the Persian Gulf, for those not much into geography) part of the population thinks that it's about time for the old king to go. The king strongly disagrees of course, so the tanks are on the streets, and so are the rebels. This is very, very good. It's allways nice when those Middle-East kings and Sultans get scared: that usually leads them to spend money - and with all the rioting and  regime-throwing going on, in and around the Persian Gulf, they all start to think that it might be a good idea to have some muscle handy, just in case.

Persian Gulf - You can see Bahrain and Abu Dhabi (in the United Arab Emirates)

The crown Prince of Abu Dhabi had that same idea some months ago (clever guy) and started to form a foreign mercenary unit - kind of a Praetorian Guard - somewhere in the desert. The inicial idea was to hire around 800 guys, but they settled for 580 - at least so they say. I'm on the waiting list for that one. I bet the recent events in the (until now) quiet kingdom of Bahrain will help him to decide to boost that outfit - just in case the people of Abu Dhabi starts to have some funny ideas. Good move from his part - I would do the same. I was reading all this and thinking to myself that probably very soon in the future I would have a nice gig again (possibly in the private army of His Highness the Crown Prince) and I fell asleep.

My laptop woke me up around two in the morning, wailing. I set up a loud  alarm in case I would receive an email in a certain email account that very few people know about. So, when the yelling of the alarm woke me up, I knew something was up. I logged in and there it was, a short email from one of my pals - one of the half dozen guys that I trust in the whole world. The message only had numbers on it - dozens of them - but I knew wich ones to look for between all that mess.

"Goddamn!" - I tought to myself. One of those numbers meant "Call me", another one meant: "NOW". Some of the others, told me where to call.
I cursed again. What is this  about? Why send me a high-priority message asking me to call at once, at 2 in the morning? It's not as if a small war somewhere, in need of mercenaries, is going to vanish before morning, right? Unless... Unless thare is some outfit ready to take off in the next few hours and they are missing someone! The tought made me jump, and in a couple of minutes I was outside, looking for a phone boot.

My mate awnsered the phone after the first ring.
"Hey man, how' ya doing?"
"How do you think I am, at 2 in the morning?" I asked.
He laughed: "Well, just called to know if you'r busy ?"
I started to get angry, but then it hit me that this was not small talk. "Nah" I said.  "Not really. A couple of ideas but nothing definitive. Why?"
"I have a proposal for you. New guys in the block, nobody any of us knew before".
"Don't tell me. Abu Dhabi ?"
"Nah, nah nah! Not the prince. Absolute strangers, I tell you. And serious, at least so it seems."
"Why do you say that ? You have a gut feeling ?" I asked, in a bad mood.
"No man, listen, to start with, they found ME, right? It's not that easy. And when I referred to you, they knew YOU, man!"
I raised my eyebrows: to be "known" is not the dream of every mercenary. "They KNOW me ?"
"Yep. And they know Johnny, too".
I kept silent for a moment.
"You there ?"
"Yeah, I was just wondering" I said. "You sure they're some new guys ? Not someone from the old days that wants to settle some score ?"
"Relax, man. I met one of the those guys, a Swiss. It's nobody from the old days. They know about the job me you and Johnny pulled in N'djamena in 2008, that's why they want us".
I smiled: our little stunt in Tchad made us three instant stars inside the restricted circle of professional mercenaries, at least for some time; after all, it's not everyday that a 3 men fire team saves the ass of a full platoon of the French Foreign Legion.
My mate kept going: "...And I know they're serious 'cause of the amount of money they're willing to spend, man!"
"What ? You settled the payment already"?
"Nah. I mean, the expense money they gave me."
"What do you mean, expense money ?"
"I mean 5 figure numbers man, plus 1st class airplane ticket, plus 5 star hotel, just to have a talk with them,

no strings attached."
"Five star hotel !? Where are you, anyway ?"
"Humm..." He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Are you in your home phone ?"
"Of course not !" I awnsered angrily. "What do you think I am, some kind of moron ?"
"OK, OK, dont get offended, it's just that, in a deal that smells so much of money as this one, one can never be too careful, now can we ?"
I calmed down a bit: "I'm in a phone boot, so spit it out".
"OK" my mate said. "Well, I'm in Monte Carlo".
"Monte Carlo ?"
"In Monaco, stupid!" He laughed. "How many "Monte Carlos" do you know?"

Monte Carlo (Principality of Monaco in the south of France)

I started to laugh too. "Monte Carlo ? Ahahahahah! Who are you, the bloody Madonna ?"
"Hehe! She's an american, man. She doesn't go to Monte Carlo, she goes to Miami Beach or something."
"Whatever. And what do these guys want, anyway ?"
"Look man, I'm giving it to you the same way this Swiss guy told me: They are a tight group of very influential men and they want to talk to us. Us, this means me you and Johnny, we just have to be in Monte Carlo this Tuesday and listen to what they have to say. Plane tickets, accomodation and 10.000 in expense money. So, what do you say ?"
I tought about it, but not too long. "I'm in. And Johnny ?"
"He's in too, they reached him before they reached me. The Swiss guy told me the only of us they couldn't reach was you."
"So, now what ?" I asked.
"I'm going to call the Swiss guy and he's gonna send you the same package he sent me, by UPS. Where do you want him to send it ?"
I gave him the name and adress off a small cafe, two blocks away from my place: those "new" guys could know me, but I'll be damn if I was going to tell them where I lived, too.
I spent half an hour packing, and went to sleep.

The Mercenaries' memory

Very unusual things have been happening lately. Lately, as in: this week. Our team is not completely strange to unusual and inexpected things; but, to be completely honest, recent events are quite staggering, even for our standards. The irony lays in the fact that the aforementioned events fall into our ordinary line of work, but in a twisted and unusual way. As things continue to unfold and, as they write in the mistery novels, the plot thickens, the team has decided the we should make a register of those events.You see, the issue is, despite the fact that we are quite thrilled about the task that we were hired to do, the  truth is that none of us is quite sure how everything its going to end. Or if we are going to come out of it. Alive, I mean. Or sane.

Thus said, this "Internet stage" will serve the dual purpose of keeping a public memory of the facts and to be a memory of us - in case things go seriously wrong. Remember that all the events portrayed here take place in present time; as much as possible, all the notes will describe actions that took place two or three days before being reported, except if safety of those involved requires a larger delay. It will become clear to the readers that every action, event, or person, will only be depicted here in the measure that it does not put in jeopardy the team, its operations or the organization to wich we now work. So, obviously, the readers will notice some flaws in the text. Those, I'm afraid, are small dark areas that will have to stay unmentioned for the time being. Please, be patient. Ad Astra!