Bjjonesmylife. Book 2

Back at the embassy I went immediately into the communications room with a handful of notes from Linda. I also carried my portable office. I plugged in the thumb drive and ran a scan on it before I opened the file on it. I also sent a notification to Marcy that I would be on VCATS in 5 minutes.

I flipped through all the pictures then sent the file to the girls, Amy and Victor and keyed VCATS to conference call to the girls. It was midnight in Kampala and 5 pm at the office.

Not only were the girls in there, everyone was: Mom, Dad, Lisa, Jason, and all my administrators, even Robert and Burt. How they all fit in the meeting room was a mystery but I was not going to get an answer tonight.

I spent the next fifteen minutes giving a narrative of the ball, and who all the people were there and all the ones I danced with as they looked at the pictures. Then I described all the dances that Gordon and I did.

Then Marcy said, “We have seen you on ZNN news all day here. Seven thousand miles away and you still make prime news. A humanitarian flight and equipment donation for the doctors; you did a good thing and you made us proud.”

“ZNN has been showing the clip of the chopper with our logo landing, the equipment being unloaded and the interviews on national news. Hanna’s station has been running the clips as a local interest story,” Lorrie added.

With the crowd in the office I sent Marcy a text that I needed a private conference with them and would call back in half an hour. I used the excuse that it was midnight to sign off.

I worked on email while I waited; there was plenty of it to look at. The first ones were from Robert and Burt. With my code book I ran the documents through the encryption filters and then printed out the messages.

They were updates on the terrorist plans; so far there were no major changes other than they were increasing the estimates of the number who would be participating in the attack.

I wondered how they were recruiting additional fighters without slipping up and alerting various anti-terror agencies.

I paged the office again and was surprised to see Victor sitting at the table with my girls.

“I have been looking at the pictures from the Ambassador’s Ball and news reports of your day; you have been really busy,” Eric said. “Oh, by the way, your girls said they dressed you to turn heads. I think it worked; look at the pictures closely some time, there were a lot of by standers looking at you when the pictures were taken.”

“The secretary called to ask me to give you a ‘good job pat on the back’ for the humanitarian effort.”

“There is plenty to do; more than I thought there would be; my schedule is full,” I replied.

Just to catch Victor off guard, “I understand that you want Blackhawks at the 40 new embassies.”

“Yes, that is what we are looking to do. How did you know that?” Victor replied.

“You know a lady never kisses and tells,” I said. “I already have the aircraft under contract for all 40 sites.”

“You do seem to have your sources; it’s good to know that you have that part of the contract covered already. I need to run Allie and I am taking Alica and her friends out to dinner and bowling,” Victor replied as he stood and left.

When the door closed Marcy asked, “What aircraft under contract are you talking about?”

“I agreed to buy 25 Blackhawks from Germany and 20 from Israel. They are located at the Arizona storage site; we will have to pay freight. You need to get with the mechanics to make sure we have something that will unload them off flatbed trailers without damaging them when they start arriving. That should start happening in two to three weeks.”

“You have begun the financing process with Midwest Bank?” I asked.

“Yes, as soon as we signed the contract,” Marcy replied.

“Sounds like Victor and Joni are getting serious,” I said

“He and Allie are here every night,” Vicky replied.

“Speaking of humanitarian assistance, Lorrie, will you contact that pharmaceutical company we are flying everywhere all the time? See if they are open to donating medicines and drugs on a list I have. If nothing else, to sweeten the pot offer to buy an equal amount at the wholesale price, just see what they are open to,” I said and then I read the list to her.

“Potomac Pharmaceuticals, sure,” Lorrie replied.

“I need to page Frank and now it is 1 AM. Hugs and kisses, give the boys a kiss for me, love you, good night.”

I sent the picture file to Frank and then called him.

It only rang twice before he answered, “What is it midnight, one or two there and you are still up?”

“It’s one, did you get the file I sent.”

“Yes, I knew we are friends but I didn’t think I rated enough to be sent party pictures. Did you know that you dress up very nice?” he asked.

“So they tell me, thanks for the second opinion to verify that they were not pulling my leg. I sent you the pictures because I wanted to know if you would send me the folders on the other guests and the other Ambassadors who are in Kampala. It seems their governments or our State department sent them one on me. I was caught flat footed: and I do not want that to happen again,” I replied.

“I really don’t want my guys spending time on things I know you have or increasing the risk being discovered,” I said.

“By the way, thanks for the help with the Blackhawks, I have a verbal agreement to buy both groups,” I said.

“Go get some sleep, you will have the folders tomorrow, and you are welcome. Good night.” Frank said as he hung up.

Ten minutes later I was in bed; Linda was in the middle of the bed and sounds asleep. I slid close to her and drifted quickly into sleep.

I woke up Saturday morning later than normal; it was 6 AM. Linda was facing me, eyes open and smiling; I had one arm under her neck and the other over her side and had her pulled tight to me and she had one arm over me. “You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to move and wake you up,” she said.

“Thank you for that, I was exhausted; I hope you did not mind the body contact,” I said.

“Not at all, it was cool last night and you are all warm and cuddly,” Linda replied.

After breakfast Andy and I reviewed last nights intel dumps from Robert and Burt. Then Andy and his 4 team leaders and I reviewed everything that his men had been working on outside all week.

Andy wanted to empty out the crates of frozen foods into the walk- in freezer, if the freezer would hold it. That would free up room to allow the Suburbans to be put back into the garage and allow Andy to sort out all the rest of the hardware from the DOD that was still crated.

“I’m OK with that but consolidate the dry ice into the insulated crates; we may need that ice in a few days.”

I was happy with everything that had been done and ahead of schedule and I told everyone so when we went back inside. I essentially gave them the weekend off, provided they came to some kind of agreement to maintain security and embassy functions.

If they went into the city they were to go in groups – not by themselves – and to be on guard against being separated and watched.

I also said that if anyone else was interested I would like to have a beach volleyball game after lunch for the exercise.

I had one more thing I wanted to do before lunch and that was to send a couple emails.

The first one was to Vicky; she was still overseeing the refreshment center in the gym.

“Can you find out how much canned Kamgells vegetable and beef soup in all can sizes is available and do the same for their chicken noodle in all can sizes from the supplier. Also check on the availability of 25000 paper or Styrofoam disposable bowls and plastic spoons. And of course I need prices for Marcy.”

The next e-mail was to Roger Gifford. Mr. Gifford was one of the newly appointed board of directors for KCC. His day job was president of New England Pharmaceuticals.

I had been to several meetings with him in attendance at KCC, all of them money related. One of them was the budget and the other was the final cost review for the second dorm that came in a half of a million dollars under budget under the experienced watch of Mr. Bozman.

I explained the temporary assignment in Uganda and the plight of the Doctors without Borders refugee camp at Nimule. I asked the same questions that I had Lorrie ask the other group.

“Could your company donate medicines and or medical supplies or possibly sell on a cost basis to make scarce donated dollars go further. I also have a secret donor who was going to match the donations.”

I included the list of medicines that Dr Palermo said they in desperate need of.

I electronically signed the email as Ambassador Roberta BJ Jones, US Embassy, Kampala, Uganda and then my satellite phone number.

I changed into my gym shorts and went to play volleyball in the sand. Enough of the other ladies agreed to play so we had 2 four person teams.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

Things happened while I was gone to Nimule; Andy and his group continued on the wall. When I looked at it before entering the embassy it was further along than it looked from the air. It would be painted tomorrow.

Andy had not been fully on board with the project at the start, but as it progressed it was his baby. He had added things and started another project.

The south and east wall of the embassy compound was a field stone wall 8 feet tall and 4 feet thick. The blueprints showed that stone work was built around steel pilings to make it vehicle proof with a massive rear gate. I wondered why they had not done the same wall to the west and north Side.

Andy had built another L shaped wall 6 feet high in the very corner out of the same heavy post and boards he used on the deflector. When I asked about it he replied, “That is the secure area to launch, rearm and recover the drones and to protect the rest of us if there is an accident.”

“Good idea,” I replied.

Inside the embassy I closed out the programs Julie had been monitoring and deleted all the files.

Linda handed me a handful of notes I needed to look at and then she said, “Janet Bernardi had a standing hairdresser appointment Friday’s at 16:30. They called to confirm and I told yes to still come. That worked out just right for tonight’s Ambassadors Ball.”

That explained the room with all the beauty equipment; the Bernardi’s must have been regulars to the party scene.

I sent a message to Gordon that he needed to be ready to leave by 17:15 hrs.

At 16:00 I went to shower, shaved everything that needed to be shaved and washed my hair. I washed it twice to be sure that the stench from Nimule would be gone.

At 16:30 the hair dresser arrived; I was dressed in the most expensive dress the girls had forced me to buy. It was a full flowing dress, not one of those that were so tight that I could not walk; one that was easy to dance in for any kind of dance.

It was V cut in the front below my boobs so no bra; I had no boobs to begin with. Boobs are fat and with all the exercise I did they were barely a small C cup, but even with my age they were still high and tight.

The dress had deep V cut in the back to just above my waist. There was a fancy tie across the upper back to make sure it stayed in place. A pair of lace bikini panties finished the outfit. I still had a good all over tan so no pantyhose. I had a little purse large enough for my phone and ID cards and some cash.

The hairdresser did a fantastic job on my hair. After she left Alice helped me with the jewelry; the necklace, the fancy earrings and the expensive watch. After that I went to the communications room and did a VCATS to the office.

The girls had me stand and do a turn so they could see. They told me repeatedly they wanted pictures from the ball, “I will try, I don’t know what is allowed.”

I went hunting for Gordon; it was soon time to leave. I found him in the cafeteria and I also found the rest of my group who were not asleep. My men were crude -I had to laugh – cat calls, wolf whistles and pictures. I asked Andy to take some pictures of Gordon and me and send them to the girls.

Andy insisted that both Suburban’s be taken to confuse anyone; Gordon and I, the driver and one body guard in one. The two Suburban’s would return to our embassy and come get us when called. It was a ten minute trip.

Alice and Ellen had tried their best to pump as much etiquette and diplomatic formality as they could in me in the last two days. They had a cheat sheet that they repeated from often.

We were met at the Canadian Embassy rear door and were escorted into the hall. Even though we were early there were others already in the hall.

Ambassador Morrison introduced us to his wife Abigail and to Ambassador Fauntroy’s wife Camilla. Others began trickling in – the Ambassador’s and their wives from Germany, France, Spain, Israel, South Korea, Japan, South Africa, Kenya, India and Indonesia.

Uganda’s equivalent to our Secretary of State also made an appearance. I had stopped by his office with Bernardi on my first day to be told he was out of the country for a few days. An under secretary accepted my letter of introduction.

I was surprised to see Russian Anton Pavlenko come in and said so to Ambassador Morrison. I recognized him from all the news programs he was on.

“The country of every ambassador here has a financial interest in Uganda in one way or another; most are after mineral, copper or oil contracts and are heavy consumers of them.”

“Many small countries cannot afford embassies or ambassadors. They have official representatives in many countries. The British still act as a go between for many of their former Colonies in Africa. The Swiss have many more,” he said.

“Even though Putin is feuding with the world over Croatia, Pavlenko still tries to be middle of the road when he is here,” Ambassador Morrison replied. “I wonder how he found out where the ball was tonight?” he added.

The waiter delivered plates of finger food to the tables but it looked like SOP was to take the little plates, walk around and continue to socialize. By the time real food was served Gordon and I had met everyone.

Pavlenko talked and questioned Gordon and me for at least 15 minutes, mostly me. He – like some of the others – had done his homework on me and I wished I had known who was coming so I could have done the same. He asked a lot of questions about JBG.

To change the direction of conversation with him I asked, “Have you been to the Russian retreat on the Chester River?” and I did it in Russian; thanks to Frank’s constant prodding, Russian was one of the language programs we bought and taught ourselves. For some reason Frank always started most of the phone calls to me in Russian; early on I had to change him to a language that I understood.

“Oh yes, many times when I am in Washington in the summer I go there for the quiet and the fishing,” he replied in his native language.

“Next time you are there call me and I will meet you for dinner at the Narrows Inn for the steak and lobster special,” I said again in Russian.

“Excellent, good food there! I will look forward to it,” he replied and then he turned and walked away.

German Ambassador Herrmann Schmitt and Israeli Ambassador Bar Mazal Dansky worked the room slowly making their way to us.

“Guten Abend Botschafter Schmitt; es ist eine Freude sie heute Abend zu sehen” I said in my best German.

“Good evening; you do German quite well, you have spent some time in my country?”

“Yes, I was stationed there for a short while years ago,” I replied.

“Ambassador Dansky; good evening. It is a pleasure to see you tonight, please forgive me that I am unable to speak to you in your native language. I have not been able to study Hebrew yet,” I said.

“Good evening as well, it has been a pleasant surprise to meet you; I think I have heard you speak Russian, Japanese, Korean, German and French. The fact sheet that your state department sent out never said you were fluent in so many languages,” he replied.

“Yes, we need to question our mutual friend about that,” Ambassador Schmitt said. “Yes, I think we should, I believe he was holding back on us,” Ambassador Dansky added.

“And who is this mutual friend that we have, I am in the dark?” I replied.

“CIA Director Love,” Ambassador Schmitt replied.

“Ah yes, Frank and his family are frequent guest to our family cookouts and he is a frequent visitor to my office,” I replied.

“On a first name basis with the Director, that is important in the world today,” Ambassador Dansky replied.

“Director Love said there is a topic that our officials were going to discuss with you at the Wye plantation terrorism summit. But with this assignment you are not going to make it there,” Ambassador Schmitt said.

“Do you mix business and pleasure? If so, we can discuss some of the information now if you like,” Ambassador Schmitt replied.

“The Blackhawks in the defense aid package, yes we can discuss that. Do you know how many you are going to have for sale?” I asked.

“Germany is to get 25,” Ambassador Schmitt replied.

“Israel is to get 20,” Ambassador Dansky added, “Director Love said that you may be interested in them.”

“Yes, I’m interested if the price is right,” I replied.

“We have to accept or refuse the aid package on Tuesday,” Ambassador Schmitt replied as he and Ambassador Dansky each handed me a piece of paper.

“That is the only price that the prime minister will accept,” Ambassador Dansky said. “My prime minister too and you have to pay all freight,” Ambassador Schmitt added.

The price was way more than reasonable. I guessed that they really wanted the Cobras in the package and the quick closure date was leverage.

“You have a deal; payment in full after we get delivery, just send me the payment information,” I said after I shook their hands.

The real food was being served as Gordon and I went back to our tables.

“I need to call Marcy and see what kind of mood she is in,” I said to Gordon.

“Why?” he replied.

“I just spent 40 million dollars,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m glad it is you and not me!”

Dinner was great; there was just no other way to put it. I held my own with more of the after dinner socializing.

The dancing was also enjoyable. It was a mixture of old, classic, traditional and tastefully new. I was the youngest of the ladies there and Gordon made sure to show me off without showing me up.

Even with the slow tight couples dances he was a gentleman, never putting his hands in the wrong places even though there was a bulge I could feel at times telling me I had not lost the touch.

As we left Ambassador Morrison handed me a thumb drive, “Pictures from tonight for your photo album.”

“Thank you for the great time and I know the girls will love the pictures,” I replied.

Andy had sent both Suburban’s, each with a driver and guard.

In the Suburban I lowered the security window, “Take us for a loop down Main Street before heading back to the embassy,” I said before putting the window back up.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

Ambassador Morrison looked at me and asked, “Do you know something that I don’t?”

“Apparently,” I replied as I handed both of them a bullet-proof vest and a helmet.

We were belting in as the turbines were firing up. The Blackhawk had two, one on each side; that was why the thing sucked fuel like a dog. Seven dollars worth of fuel per mile; the 407s were a lot more fuel efficient.

But the Blackhawk could carry a lot more people and freight. The department requested Blackhawks at some sites and paid the bill – no questions asked.

The flight was and hour and fifteen minutes. Ambassador Morrison was on the Satellite phone talking to the field hospital as we approached.

Nimule was a third world town – by a big stretch of imagination – fourth of fifth world was more like it. It was dilapidated, poor and showing the ravages of decades of civil war. Sheets were attached to all sides of anything standing to get shade. There were hundreds if not thousands of pitched tents. The stench of feces and urine was everywhere; even from the air you could smell it.

I had made Camp Smith to look like a third world town; compared to this place the camp was the Hilton.

An old backfiring jeep made its way to us with a horde of people following. We had landed well away from the old Korean War M.A.S.H. tents. I did not want the rotor wash to blow them over or cover everything with the rancid dust.

Doctor Mengal Palermo climbed out of the jeep wearing a bloody gown and had a surgical mask dangling around his neck. Ambassador Morrison made the introductions and explained what and who.

I thought the doctor was going to shake my hand off. When I glanced up there was a ZNN reporter who looked as haggard as the rest of the people here and a camera man. I wondered why he was even in the area at all. Then I realized that the Sudan – Ethiopia – Congo wars was his assignment.

Boomer and Sidney had unloaded the generators into the back of the jeep along with a couple of the gas cans. It would take another trip to get the rest. Sidney stayed with the chopper and the pilots while the two ambassadors, Boomer and I walked behind the jeep.

I could hear their generator knocking and sputtering before we even got close. CPR and TLC were not going to help; it had the death rattles.

Boomer and I unloaded and carried the Honda and placed it next to the dying one. I checked the oil to make sure it was to the full mark and Boomer filled it with gas. A turn of the switch and it was running.

There were enough plugs for the electrical equipment they had; it put a lot of load on the generator but the Honda purred like a kitten. We put the other generator beside it and checked it out, then fired it up to make sure it would run.

We poured the gasoline in to a 55 gallon drum when the jeep made the return trip. There were several there and I shook them to see if they were full. They were, so they had enough gas to last several days at least.

By luck, the three of us were able to get a few minutes to talk to the medical staff. I asked, “How are you getting food? It looks like they are several thousand people here.”

“One of the aid agencies drops corn every few days, a couple times a month there are missionaries who drop off things. Every little bit helps but the kids are still starving,” Dr. Palermo replied.

“I was always told that corn was just filler, that kids needed something else to grow,” I replied. “Like soup to go with it.”

“If I had a can of Kamgells vegetable and beef soup to split between three kids just once a day, they would slowly get better instead slowly withering away,” he replied.

“Obviously meat and such are non existent and if you could get it, you have no way to store it,” I replied.

“It has to be canned or dry,” he replied.

“What is your water supply? I asked.

“A well company from South Africa drilled a well a year ago, it has a hand pump, but there is always a line. It was never big enough to supply this number of people. There is a small river a couple miles away but the water has to be boiled; it is full of bacteria and other nasty things,” he replied.

“Do you have problems with insurgents?” I asked.

“We haven’t been bothered here too much, but every now and then someone comes in who has bullet wounds. The army is patrolling the border aggressively, trying to keep the war from spreading to Uganda,” he replied.

“How about meds and medical supplies – how are you getting them and quantities?” I asked.

“Big pharmacies sell the stuff that is soon going to be out of date and they donate other things; hospitals do the same thing. All the drugs and supplies are accumulated at our French head office and dispersed from there.”

“But there is never enough. We are out of antibiotics and pain meds for surgery today. We are hoping for more by mid week,” the doc replied.

“I can’t guarantee anything but write me a list. It will not hurt to make some calls and ask,” I replied.

The whole time the doc and the three of us ambassadors had been talking the ZNN reporter had been following us around and filming. As we bid the staff farewell, the reporter stepped forward and asked Ambassadors Morrison and Fauntroy for an interview.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out of the camera and waited so we could leave. While I was waiting the doctor came back out.

“Forgive me Ambassador, but I neglected to offer you a tour of our facilities and to meet the rest of the staff. Please follow me,” he said as he handed me a mask.

The M.A.S.H. tent was actually three pieced together; under one section were two 40 foot shipping containers. One was used to store medical supplies, the other had bunks for the doctors and nurses to sleep in. There was a hole cut in one end with a fan running to keep those sleeping cool.

Another part was the makeshift operating room. The hospital stickers from John Hopkins hospital were still on most of the equipment. The last and larger part was WW2 cots as patient beds. I only counted two empty but there was space for another dozen more at least. The people in there were very sick and malnourished.

When we had finished I walked to the two ambassadors; I thought the interviews were over, “We need to be going,” I said.

“Ambassador Jones, may I ask you a couple of questions?” the reporter said. Well, I didn’t escape after all.

“Sure!” I answered a dozen questions about donating the generators and gasoline, the chopper flight and my impressions of the refugee camp and conditions. I gave credit to Ambassador Morrison and Fauntroy for coordinating the effort to aid the doctors.

The haggard reporter then asked, “How are you coping with the first week of being an Ambassador?”

“OK, I think. I have not started any international incidents yet and I have not humiliated myself either. I think there are some people who lost some money on that wager,” I replied with a smile and laugh.

A few minutes we were on the chopper headed back. I confirmed that we had plenty of fuel for the return trip and talked through David Clarke headsets to the ambassadors. It was too noisy to talk any other way.

As Kampala came into view, I asked the pilots to make a loop around the city. I never had taken the sight seeing tour and my two guest could point out everything.

As we made the loop back to the embassy I could see the flag wall going up; from my point of view the angle looked right.

The ambassadors left and I had plenty of time to finish my day and get ready for the Ambassadors Ball tonight.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

Wednesday was like Tuesday only, a little smoother. We were all making the time zone transition and the men the shift transition; everyday was a little easier. Two more ambassadors came to see me on Wednesday. The Brazilian and Australian ambassadors came in the morning. Two more off my list that I needed to present credentials to.

Wednesday was the UPS announcement at Morton Field in the terminal. It was noon when it began and the girls had bought our own TV type camera and was broadcasting it on our SVOL system that we used with our college security.

The Office could now broadcast live to all of our locations important events and conferences at one time. The girls were no longer trapped with only the people we could cram into my or Marcy’s office.

I was using my laptop with the Department’s satellite internet and I was in the theater room with my group watching.

The UPS executives made their announcement followed by Lorrie and Marcy and then the local politicians. I sent “Congrats, you did a great job,” by text.

Thursday Andy and his men started building the flag wall. The John Deere dealer did in fact have a post hole digging attachment in stock at twice the price. I guess ocean shipping was expensive. An adjoining dealer had a gas powered concrete mixer that Andy had bought. I wondered why we needed it.

Thursday must have been a free day for ambassadors; four came in the morning and four more in the afternoon. At this rate all on the list were going to beat me to the punch and come to me before I could get to them

Some of them had really done their homework on me and JBG. I wondered if the State department had sent out a fact sheet on me or something to the diplomatic world.

It was after supper before Andy and I made the tour of the grounds. On one side of the embassy the sand for the volley ball court had been leveled and the net was up. At last, a place to exercise and I needed it.

“All the sandbags that we need are on the roof, so I had the men level the rest for you,” Andy said.

“Thank you, I need the exercise,” I replied.

On the other side of the building that was the area that we suspected the terrorists would strike, the heavy framework was completed for the blast deflector.

Andy explained that he was using heavy 6×6 timbers for the frame and braces, bolted instead of nailed. They had several string lines run to keep it straight. I saw what he had bought the cement mixer for; they were filling all the holes with concrete from those redi-mix bags; just add water and mix.

“The lumber yard will have all the wood in tomorrow morning to start on the front of it along with the barn wood screws. The paint will be here at noon,” Andy said.

“Oh, the owner of the lumber yard wants you to stop by so he can personally thank you for the business. I gather things have been terribly slow for them; he even gave you a contractor’s discount. I did have to pay with cash,” Andy said.

“Give the receipts to Linda and I will show her how to get them to Marcy. See me in the morning and I will replace the spent cash,” I replied. “Everything looks good. How long will it take to finish the front?”

“Not that long; I ordered 12 inch lumber so it will fill space quickly. It is heavy but with the skid steer it will be no problem,” Andy replied. “When the front is up and painted we are done with everything we had planned so far. Then it will be time to look at it again.”

I spent some time on VCATS checking in with embassies where JBG had security. I would complete that task tomorrow. Tomorrow I was also going to start hitting the forty newly contracted embassies to start transition planning.

I spent an hour on VCATS with Jenny and the girls; they were pumped up about how well the news conference went for the UPS announcement.

Linda, Alice, Ellen and I were finally getting comfortable around each other. At first I was the only one sleeping naked, now all four of us were.

Friday morning started off well but went to hell in 10 minutes. Several ambassadors called, one right after the other, including Canadian Ambassador Morrison and British Ambassador Fauntroy. I was the only embassy that had a chopper assigned to it and they had a humanitarian emergency.

The Doctors without Borders group had a clinic with a portable surgical unit for refugees from the South Sudan civil war in the town of Nimule. Their generator was dying and they needed immediate help. Without the generator the surgery unit was done.

The Canadians and the British were big supporters of the Doctors without Borders Humanitarian efforts.

“Peter how large of a generator do they need, and what voltage?” I asked.

“I’ll get back to you,” he replied.

I called Bambi, Lexy, Julie and Andy in to explain the request and plan logistics while we waited for Ambassador Morrison to reply.

“We have enough fuel on board with the extended tanks; it is 228 miles one way, roughly 460 round trip,” Bambi replied.

It was 10 more minutes before Morrison called back, “All their equipment was donated by Johns Hopkins; 120 volt and the generators were 8KW, whatever that is.”

“I can give them 2 10 KW Hondas that are brand new. I have sent a couple of men to get gas and oil for them. The chopper should be in the air in half an hour,” I replied to Ambassador Morrison.

“Will there be room for myself and Ambassador Fauntroy on the chopper? The DWB have a really big following in our countries,” he replied.

“Sure, but you have to understand – only one chopper – there will be no armed escort,” I replied.

“Andy, send someone to get a case of oil for the generators; 10w30 I think,” I replied.

“Can we carry a drum of gasoline for the generators?” I asked the pilots.

“How about we carry 5 gallon cans? If something happens it will be easier to chunk them out the door,” they replied.

“I’ll send someone to pick those things up. 10 cans if we can find them?” Andy asked as he left the room.

I had no intention of going, but those other two ambassadors were going. I probably should go too if it was going to be that big of a PR event. The Washington bosses should like good PR.

“Andy, I think two armed guards should go, who will you send?” I asked.

“Boomer and Sidney,” Andy replied.

“Bambi and Lexy will be pilot and copilot, Julie – come with me, I have a job for you,” I said.

I opened the JBG computer and keyed in Boomers, Sidney’s, Bambi, Lexy and my JBG ID, checked all the boxes and activated the tracking program. Google was going to love me when Marcy paid the bill for that; Marcy, not so much I would suspect.

Then I remembered that the chopper had the GPS locator that Marcy used in the MAAR cars. When both screens became active I hit the record and then sent the screen to the communications room where the big screen monitors were.

I put my bullet-proof vest on under my shirt and my shoulder holster under my jacket along with four extra clips in my pocket.

“Julie, I want you and Andy to monitor the flight from here and coordinate communications and rescue if necessary,” I instructed as I gave her one of the satellite phones after I programmed my number into it.

“Yes ma-am,” Julie replied as she watched me button the jacket. Andy nodded.

At my desk I sent Marcy an email with the same instructions. She would see it as soon as she got up.

I had just finished up when Morrison and Fauntroy came in the Lobby.

When we arrived at the chopper four of the rear seats were out, ten safety gas cans were stored all the way back with two of the generators in front of them.

Boomer and Sidney walked to us each carrying an M16 and an ammo box.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

Andy and I, along with the team leaders, made several tours of the embassy grounds to point out different things that needed to be done to improve our security or make our stay better.

Then there was another meeting to get the suit and tie embassy part of this venture started tomorrow. There was an official announcement and letter of introduction that I had to personally hand deliver to each of the ambassadors at the other embassies.

The state department had furnished a list and an order that I was do this in; a pecking order based on the strength of the international relationship.

Linda was going be my official secretary while I was here. Gordon Decker was to be my escort to all official functions. Gordon, Andy informed me, had brought several suits and tuxes and had taken dance as a college course.

Gordon was a likable fellow and seemed to get along with anybody and was in great physical shape. He also spoke three languages of the 7 that I also spoke. Like most of my men, Gordon had done time in the sand box; we had a lot in common.

Protocol required that I have four body guards with me for the time being; two were coming the evening shift and two the night shift.

The next thing was getting us orientated to the time difference. To start that process, it was to bed by the clock.

The ambassador’s residence was 3 bedrooms with twin queen beds. I and my three girls were going to take one bedroom.

I gave them the choice, “Share a bed or put up a cot to sleep on, I do not care which, but we are all sleeping in one room and I have the half of the bed next to the phone. Oh, by the way, I do not bite”

The other seven girls were told the same thing for the other two bedrooms. I did not want nor would I put up with any shenanigans between the sexes; we simply had too much to do for that.

The alarm clock had to ring to get me out of bed; I had set it for 6. A quick shower and better clothes today – I chose a new 300 dollar pant suit – the high price stuff was for official functions. A little makeup and my hair in a pony tail was it today.

I smelled coffee and food as soon as I opened the door. I hit the coffee pot first then the food line; bacon, eggs, sausage and a waffle. The waffle mix must have been from Ambassador Bernardi’s stock unless the guys had added it to the list. That might explain the several extra crates that were loaded.

“After you finish eating and before you start the day, I need to see you in my office for a minute,” I told Andy as I walked by with a fresh mug of coffee.

I open my cases and started to put the office together to suit me. The desk had been cleaned out other than pads and pens. I wiped off my official desk nameplate and placed it on the desk, then put the rest of my things away. I keyed up both of my computers to see if they would connect to the secure system.

There was no need to try to find anyone at the office; it was midnight there, the same for Washington unless I paged the emergency operations desk.

I could and did open a conversation with the Khartoum Sudan embassy that was 1200 miles to the north in the same time zone. There was a JBG team and a chopper at that site. Ambassador Bernie Furnell opened the page himself.

“Good morning Ambassador Furnell, how are things in the Sudan today?” I asked.

“Normal turbulence all around the area – it is an every day occurrence any more. I have to get used to addressing you as ambassador. While I’m thinking of it, are we all going to get that secret surgery that you described to Joe?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied as I was laughing.

“I take it that you and Ambassador Bernardi are close friends,” I said.

“Yes we are; I was concerned that they pulled him out so suddenly,” he said.

“No worries, he will be back in six weeks, better than ever,” I replied with a laugh.

Andy was at my door, “I need to run – someone at my door who I have to work with – we shall talk soon,” I said as I closed the window.

“Andy, I don’t know how many places will take our credit cards,” I said as I opened my desk. I handed him 10 thousand of the prince’s money.

“Try to use the card first; and you know Marcy,” I replied.

“Oh yes, receipts!” Andy replied with a laugh.

A few minutes later I saw the truck and one of the Suburbans leave the grounds. I wonder where they were going first. I could have activated the location program with the JBG ID card if they were carrying it. I really didn’t have time for that.

I went back to reading all the emails, replies and bulletins in my inbox. That job carried me all the way to lunch. All morning the limos and SUVs were going in and out; the truck made several trips. After lunch and the VCATS to Victor and the office, I would take a walk to see what was happening.

At lunch I found out that the cooks found a large food store with fresh vegetables and other American type foods. Lunch was a salad for me.

I talked for almost an hour with the girls and my staff at the office. Robert stepped in to ask if I remembered to bring my code book for his encryption system.

“Yes, I have it,” I replied.

“Good, you have some things coming from me,” he replied.

I got to see the boys and it hurt not being able to hold them.

I had just finished the conversation and was getting ready to look at the files that Robert sent when Linda called to say I had an official visitor.

“Damn, I had hoped that I would have a couple days at least to get settled in before this started!” I thought.

I met Canadian Ambassador Peter Morrison Jr in the lobby. We exchanged credentials as customary with the first meet. Then I invited him to my office.

We talked for an hour; I answered his general questions and he mine. Peter was disappointed that I had not been to Canada but pleased that JGB had planes at the Toronto Lockheed plant and the VP’s were going there to pick them up. “If it had not been for this gig I would have been to Toronto with them in two weeks’ I told him. Toronto was his home town.

Before he left I was invited to the Canadian embassy Friday night to an ambassador’s ball. Ambassador Morrison assured me that only allies in good standing would be there so there would be little chance that I could start an international incident. The ball was on Ambassador Bernardi’s calendar and he had recommended that I go in his place.

The finger food and social hour started at six, the real meal at seven and then entertainment at 8. I promised that I would be there and asked if an escort was acceptable.

I went back to my desk and spent the next two hours working with Robert’s magic encryption keys. It was today’s latest intercepts and Robert was wise; he trusted no one and was covering my back as best he could from 7,000 miles away.

When I finished I could smell supper cooking. I would have sworn Jenny made the menu; it was steak. We were going to need an exercise yard for sure, before the food we brought was gone.

After supper I walked the building and the grounds and listened while Andy and his leaders filled me in on today’s exploits and the things they had found in and around the city. Then Bambi took me for a chopper ride over and around the city.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

Julie and Bambi – the other two chopper pilots – had stayed at the airport. They were to test fly the Blackhawk after Tommy Bell and Daniel Owens (the two mechanics) reinstalled the rotors and completed the necessary test and inspections.

Bambi called on the satellite phone that they were ready to do the test flight.

“If the test flight is OK, fill it with fuel and fly it to the embassy. Fly north-north east; we are on the east side of the main road that cuts through the city. I will send you the GPS numbers in a moment. The men have already made a landing pad,” I replied.

I found Andy and relayed the conversation. Andy made the call to make sure the last security persons with the Suburban saw to it the mechanics got over to the terminal building for the flight home and then return to the embassy.

The truck and vehicles arrived with the last of our crates and people. The skid steer driver now had it down to a science. The crates were quickly unloaded.

There was still plenty of daylight left so Andy assigned Mac Desilva (one of the team leaders) and his group the duty of sorting the crates. Derek Wilson, who was operating the skid steer, was one of Mac’s team.

Two of the food crates and one of the bread crates went into the kitchen to be emptied into the walk-in freezer and refrigerator. Two of the men and two of the ladies who had volunteered to be cooks were already in the kitchen getting operating instructions from the cook who was leaving.

My men who were going to take shifts in the communications room were getting their final lessons from the ones leaving. Even though all the systems were the same, they all seemed to have little quirks that made each system unique.

Ambassador Bernardi found me out back to tell me all his team was packed and ready to leave for the airport on time. While we were standing I could hear the thump, thump of the big blades of the Blackhawk coming.

Bambi circled to get a good look at the site and wind direction by looking at the direction the flag was flying, before sitting the chopper on the pad. It did not put up as much dirt and dust as I expected.

I made a mental note to secure enough fire hose to reach the pad; in the walk around I noticed that there were attachments and a hydrant near the rear of the building. We had brought a dozen 20 pound dry chemical fire extinguishers with us, but with fire more is better. Those 20 pounders were now loosely tied together in groups of four at each corner of the pad.

“Wow, you get your own chopper and it is a big one, at that,” he replied.

“Unless the department wants to pay to swap it out to a 407, it will be assigned here when you come back,” I replied.

When the rotors stopped turning, Ambassador Bernardi and I walked over to the chopper.

“Fly’s great! Do want to go for a ride and look at the city?” Bambi asked.

“When we get everything done, if there is still time we will go. Right now we need your hands. I want everything done we can get done before dark. Andy is going to pull 10 people and send them to rest so they can do the night security shift,” I replied.

At six Andy loaded the ambassador and his staff and carried them to Kampala International for their trip for to the US.

“Good luck with your surgery Ambassador and have a safe trip,” I said as I closed the door on the limo.

When the men returned, it was the time to shake down today’s progress over a quick easy supper of hamburgers and hot dogs.

Andy was the commander of the RRT; with 37 men and ladies today he also had a crew assigned to him. There would be three shifts of 12; each with a pilot for the chopper, a cook and a person to man the communications/security room.

During the day when the communications room would be the busiest, one of my girls would be assigned there to help. Each shift had two leaders, two teams of six. Between the burgers, shift assignments and team assignments were made. Part of that process would start tonight.

It was time to tell the group why we were here, what we thought was going to happen, what our mission was and the outcome we expected, and then how we were going to accomplish that.

Defensively there were things Andy wanted to do and we needed to talk about them so they could start tomorrow.

Andy wanted to reinforce the interior of the building to stand up to the potential blast and put sand bag emplacements on the roof for shooting positions. All this had to be done without giving away what we were doing.

“It’s going to take so much reinforcing to strengthen that big flat wall of the building that it may be useless to us. Instead of bracing for it, let’s deflect the blast,” I said.

“Just how can we do that?” Andy asked.

I was sure that he thought I was joking or lost my mind.

“On aircraft carriers when they launch a jet, a big steel plate comes up at an angle to deflect the full power exhaust of the engine upwards. If they did not do that, the exhaust blast would blow planes and men off the deck,” I said.

“Let’s build an angled deflector 10 feet from the building, the length of the building out of heavy lumber. It will go up a lot easier,” I said.

“We drove past a large lumberyard going back and forth to the airport,” Mac added.

“Won’t that just telegraph what we are doing? Just how do you camouflage that?” Andy asked.

“We paint it to look like a big US flag, big and angled so the chopper can see it from 10,000 feet,” I replied.

“Hell, that just might work,” Mac replied.

“I guess you have an idea then on how we are going to get sand for the sand bags,” Andy replied.

“Sure; all us ladies need to keep our sun tans and there is no better way to do that than beach volleyball in skimpy bikinis. We just have to order several truckloads of sand, with one of them dumped in the wrong place in the back of the building.”

“The skid steer can level the sand for the court and lift the bags to the top of the building from the back; out of sight and mind. There is a volleyball kit in one of the general crates,” I said.

One of my three girls replied, “We did not bring any bikinis.”

“OK, we can just play naked, get or keep our all over tans. That will distract the natives for sure. They won’t see anything the men are doing,” I replied.

“To build this blast thing is going to mean we have a lot of holes to dig and it would be best to put concrete around the posts,” Derek replied.

“Before I decided to bring our own skid steer, I looked for John Deere dealers. There was one listed for Kampala but I could not get an inventory list. They may have a post hole digger attachment. If not, you know a city of this size has to have an equipment rental place or the like,” I replied.

“Another thing that we need to do is to build a couple walls in the basement so the different shifts each have a place to sleep that won’t be so noisy, we brought tools to do that. We can pick up that material in some of the trips,” Andy replied.

“Well, the day people have a lot of things to be looking for tomorrow. I don’t want anyone working their shift dragging ass for the lack of sleep, but if you feel like you can help 3 or 4 four hours before hitting the bunk it would be appreciated,” Andy replied.

“If the intelligence is right, we have about ten days. But as soon as the roof is ready I want some of the weapons up there just in case,” I replied.

“Howie, you need to assemble two of each of those toys you have been working on. Just leave the battery out until we need them,” Andy added.

We finished the supper and I went to the communications room to VCATS with the girls and then Victor. This would be the first time that I would carry on my conversations in a room with other people in there. I almost cried when the girls with the boys came keyed live. I missed them so much already.

The VCATS room at the embassies operated just like MTEC did on NCIS; my two communications people were off to the side controlling the console. All the security cameras were monitored from there. At least they worked for me.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

I made my way to the front of the plane where the crew had set up seating. There were three rows across the front of better seats and then a row extending down each side of jump seats to make up enough seats for all my people in a small area.

I took the left front jump seat so I would have a little more room to use my portable office if I needed to. I slid the cooler and office under my feet as a leg rest, pulled the seat belt tight and waited for takeoff. The seats had a minor head rest, so I closed my eyes, leaned back and waited for the takeoff.

“Ma-am, Ambassador Jones, the Captain would like you to sit in one of the extra officer’s seat during takeoff,” I thought about asking if they had an officer’s seat for all my men but decided against making waves.

I climbed the stairs to the flight command center, sat in my appointed seat and fastened the multipoint seat belt. Moments later the tug moved the C17 into position to depart Morton Field. A few minutes more and we were airborne. It was 0800, just 14 hours to go.

I stayed in the seat until we reached cruising altitude and then they announced that it was OK for my people to move around. I asked about phone and computer use. Satellite phones were the only thing that would work. Computers could be used but there would be no internet connection, which I expected. I moved back to the jump seat.

I started a daily diary; I thought it may be interesting reading after my 6 weeks were over. I kept a separate ledger of things that Marcy could cross check for billing.

Seven hours into the flight I was the kind of hungry that snacks could not cure. I was sure everyone else was too. This morning while we were waiting for the crew to load everything into the plane, I had the restaurant make 50 cold subs of all kinds. They were in a cooler in the back seat of my Suburban. There was another cooler of drinks. Maybe they were not frozen – there were a couple of plastic bags of dry ice in each cooler.

“Is anyone hungry?” I asked. I went with four guys to bring the coolers to the front; I carried the empty trash bag and a big bag full of all kinds of chips in those little lunch size bags. This was the second of many more meals with my men and ladies but the first at 20,000 feet. I offered subs to the plane crew.

I lunched with my men and ladies; Linda, Ellen and Alice had befriended the other ladies who were part of the group. Blackhawk pilots Julie, Bambi and Lexy were talking aviation talk with the crew of the C17. They even got a tour of the command center.

Fourteen and a half hours after the start of the flight, the pilot announced that we would be landing in a few minutes at the Entebbe International Airport; it was 4 AM Kampala time. I called the security desk at the embassy and gave them our arrival time. Ambassador Bernardi had agreed to send a couple of embassy cars to help get my people to the embassy and that 0530 would be an appropriate time to send the cars.

It was an hour before we were parked and the massive rear door was lowered. The skid steer was the first thing out; then both Suburbans. The truck and trailer was a different story. It just did not back out like it drove in; repeated attempts to back it out were failures. They were over steering and getting the trailer all sideways.

I gathered that they normally let the assigned drivers from whatever branch of service drive the equipment into and out of the plane’s cargo bay, because they were the ones most familiar with the equipment. But, because we were civilians they did not trust us, so the Air Force guys were doing the driving.

But this was ridiculous as Andy and I watched the comedy. I had driven trucks through the sand with double trailers, up mountain roads pulling trailers so narrow you could not even step off the running board.

Finally I could stand no more, “Stop! Get out of the truck. Andy, give me distance with hand signals,” I said.

It took five minutes of jockeying to get the mess they created back straight then I backed the truck and trailer slowly out, down and off the ramp. I now hoped that there was a truck driver in my group who I could trust to drive the rig for 25 miles to the embassy.

When I shut the truck off I heard someone asking the whereabouts of Ambassador Jones, standing outside the truck.

I stepped out to shake Ambassador Bernardi’s hand and then said a quick thanks to Andy for the on the spot hand signals. I told him to go with the plan we had talked about for getting everything to the embassy.

We walked to sit in my Suburban; it was closer than the limo he came in.

“All this looks like a lot more than a temporary manpower exchange,” Bernardi replied.

“Again, I have to defer you to Washington for that answer. When you pack, make sure you pack as many of your personal things as you can for safe keeping. And tell all your security people to pack everything; they will not be coming back,” I said.

“They’re making that change now? Months ahead of schedule,” he asked.

“Yes, when you come back JBG will be the security force,” I replied.

Andy knocked on the window, “We’re ready to make the first trip. Linda, Alice, and Ellen have loaded up in the limo so you two can still talk. 20 will stay here to guard the rest of the equipment. Lead the way Ambassadors.”

“Why are we going in this and not the limo?” Bernardi asked.

“This SUV is armored, not that it will help much against heavy weapons,” I replied.

“Armored?? OH, I see; then there is a lot more going on,” Bernardi replied.

It took 40 minutes to make the embassy 25 miles away. It took twenty minutes to unload the truck, trailer and the Suburbans and get them headed back.

I went inside to get a tour of the embassy and its communications center. I was given the combinations to the safes. Alice, Linda and Ellen were shown what most of their duties would be.

As I toured the building I noted that the kitchen was large enough to handle all of our needs; I guessed it was over-sized to handle all the large parties.

I had a couple of my guys and a couple of the ladies who had volunteered to be cooks if I needed them; they had room to work, for sure. There was a huge walk-in freezer that was nearly empty that would handle all the frozen food we brought.

The tour of the building proved interesting; the basement was big, very big, much bigger than the building above it. One section was offices and meeting rooms for emergencies. There was a small armory that would not even begin to hold the things we had brought. The open space was big and we would be able to set up all the cots.

Outside the grass was manicured and there was a double tennis court that Andy and I had talked about making a helipad. The pilots would make the final decision on that later today.

In the back of the lot there was a 4 car garage and maintenance building. In a new addition was a big Cat generator to run the place when needed. We had brought four Honda 10KW generators with us for nothing. The generator was in none of the blueprints we had.

All the pallets and crates were being put in there by the skid steer as they were unloaded. The vehicles would sit out for a day or two. We would sort it out tomorrow.

The flat bed and trailer with the two Suburbans and two limos for escort had left for the airport to pick up the last of our equipment and personnel. Thirty of my forty people were on site.

Andy had instructed the last Suburban to stay at the airport until the chopper had been flight tested and the two mechanics in the terminal waiting for their flight back to BWI.

The C17 had departed for the Middle East at noon.

One thing about the embassy being on the outskirts of the city was that the embassy grounds were four times the size of the older embassies located in the center of the capital. We had plenty of room outside to play, plan and work with.

Ambassador Bernardi and I went back into his office to go over his appointments, meeting, and public events that he was obligated to attend and now I was. I was going to get to wear the fancy clothes a lot more than I wanted.

Ambassador Bernardi’s wife and staff had been packing furiously; their flight out was at 7 PM tonight. What they weren’t going to take would be put in the storage room in the basement.

The ladies in my group were helping Mrs. Bernardi pack things and marking the boxes by room numbers before carrying it to the storage room. I did not want any of their cherished things to be damaged or missing.

The men in the group were setting up their sleeping quarters in the basement, carrying the cots and air mattresses down. Everybody was doing something.

Lexy Ford – one of the chopper pilots – was with Andy looking at the tennis court. Andy made a command decision; take the nets down, pull the post and move the small bleachers out of the way. The skid steer had work to do until the truck came back. One of the men found some paint to make a landing marker and brooms to sweep it off. Pebbles moved by the rotor wash could do tremendous damage to the chopper and bystanders. Progress was happening.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

Saturday morning we went to the airport restaurant for breakfast again. We had a few odd and ends to take care of, then all of us were going to the gun club; the girls wanted to do a few minutes practice to stay proficient. Linda, Alice and Ellen had been at the club for half an hour practicing when we arrived.

They all were definitely better; they were now putting all the rounds in eye at the 60 foot mark. I was satisfied with the improvement and told them so. According to the blueprints of the Kampala embassy, there was a target range in the basement for them to keep practicing, unless we had to clear it out and use the area for a bunk room.

The rest of Saturday was family together time. We cleaned the house from top to bottom as was one of our customary Saturday chores. There were a lot of walk up and hugs and kisses and I am going to miss you; we were slowly building up to the big good-by Monday morning.

I held the boys every chance I could. This was going to a lot harder than I thought. Day by day they were getting stronger and in more control of their facial expressions. They smiled a lot in their sleep, when they were awake and when someone was talking to them.

Saturday night we had our normal orgy in the basement – just us six like old times – slow, soft and gentle to start and then finished wild, hard and aggressive. If the General came down he did not stay.

There were no important notes on the table. The only note said he had gone to bed.

Sunday morning I cooked the normal big breakfast for my family; it would be the last for six weeks. Mom, Dad, Jake, Mindy Jason, and the General rounded out the table. Crash stayed over at Marlene’s last night.

After the dishes were in the dishwasher and the griddle cleaned we sat around and talked until noon.

Then I began the task of packing; I had plenty of help. I wish I could have done it alone, it would have been easier.

The dress shop had put all the expensive clothes in fancy carrying cases for a price. I packed tee shirts, panties (old fashion and thongs), bras, panty hose that I had no intention of wearing, socks and the like along with all the girly things I needed went in a small duffel bag.

Another large duffel bag was filled with gym shorts and workout clothes, a week’s worth of jeans, camo, shirts and several pairs of gloves; it was left open for the case that I carried my morning essentials in. After I dressed in the morning I would tie it shut.

At 2 PM the dry ice company called to confirm that they were making a 5 PM delivery to the airport. Yesterday before they left, my administrators had been sent to the six supermarkets in the area.

They had bought all the bacon, sausage, hams, chicken, steaks, roast, hamburger and hot dogs, plus 50 dozen eggs. They cleaned out the stores. All that food was in the restaurant’s big walk in cooler.

The General insisted the eggs could be carried with no problem. Just pack them in regular coolers and put plain ice in the cooler.

We met Andy and a couple others at 4:30; we lined up the crates that were insulated. The ice company suggested we start by putting 6 inches of dry ice on the bottoms then we stacked the foods by meal time. We left 6 inches around the outside for ice. When the food was a foot deep, another layer of dry ice was applied.

When we were done there were 14 crates of foods and two crates that were filled dry ice. Ambassador Bernardi had said there was a good sized walk-in freezer and refrigerator in the basement of the embassy.

I was concerned that if we did not stop the truck bomb far enough away, we could be left with no electric service. The service was overhead from the street, and that was the reason for all the dry ice and food.

The dry ice and extra dry ice should keep the food we were carrying frozen for two to three weeks; by that time I expected it all to be gone or reduced enough for the freezer to hold the remaining amount.

The General had the suggested loading diagram from the C17 loadmaster. Andy used the shop forklift to load the two 4x 4 x 8 and 4 of the 4 x 4 crates onto the flat bed truck and then strapped them down.

On the equipment trailer, 12 crates total were stacked two high and strapped down. That was all the preloading work that we could do until the loadmaster had inspected the load.

Tonight was my last night home and for supper we decided to go to a famous seafood house in Annapolis for the king crab and steak. The food was great; the mood, not so great, very somber.

We enjoyed the hot tub one more time, the last time for a while. I was sure there were none at the Kampala embassy.

Monday we were up at 5 and loaded all my things in the back of one of the older armored Suburbans. Older in this case was 5 years and better because it was still full sized, not the newer shorter fuel efficient version.

The new fuel efficient version was no longer fuel efficient when the armor up-fitter added all that steel plate and 1 inch glass to double the weight.

There was room for Linda, Alice and Ellen to put their things in the back of the Suburban and still have the four seats to use. I had asked them to carry only the things they thought they needed for six weeks.

By putting our things in the Suburban, they could stay there until they were unloaded at the embassy. I needed to be there first because I needed a little time to meet with Ambassador Bernardi.

At 5:45 we were in the airport restaurant along with all the RRT and a lot of their families. It was a goodbye breakfast for my family and the start of six weeks of breakfast with the RRT.

The C17 arrived at 6:30 – a half an hour early – and was directed to park in front of the terminal for loading. Andy, the General and I went out to meet with the loadmaster. We were given a tour of the cargo bay and a look at the things that had been approved by the DOD and loaded at DAB.

The Blackhawk was the first thing pulled in with the winch system and placed on the left side. The two mechanics who were making the flight watched the operation carefully. The rotor blades that they had removed were carefully strapped under the chopper.

The next thing that was to go in was the truck and the trailer combination. Then some of the pallets were placed in between the chopper and the truck.

The Suburban that Andy had filled with duffel bags belonging to his men was to be loaded next.

Then the Suburban that was filled with Linda, Ellen, Alice and my things was to be next; last in on the left side so it would be the first out.

There were eleven women in this crew assignment including the three Blackhawk pilots. It was going to be a leadership challenge for both Andy and me.

The final things to go in would be the remaining pallets and the skid steer.

Benches and folding chairs like the paratroopers used was the seating for us among all the equipment.

While everything was being loaded, Andy and I met with the flight’s commander in Lorrie’s office. The flight was 7200 miles and would require one in-flight refueling by two different tankers off the coast of Africa. The aerial tankers would be coming out of Spain.

After dropping us and our equipment in Kampala, the C17 was flying on to Saudi Arabia and then on to Germany before returning to the east coast.

We were nearly done when Frank, Kevin and Eric knocked on the door and came in, “We just wanted to wish you good luck and safe travels. We will keep you updated with anything intelligence finds,” Frank said.

Brooke Haywood – the Admin assistant for Burt and Robert – knocked on the door, “Good, I caught you before you departed. Robert told me to hand deliver this to you. It is important,” she said.

Brooke handed me one of our JBG inner office secure envelopes sealed with Robert’s security tape. On the front of the envelope was stamped in big red letters, “Top Secret.”

That was the first time I had seen that on one of our envelopes; I guess they were taking things even more seriously now that I was leaving. When I tore the tape and removed the file folder there was a sticky note attached, “Top secret – BJ only, related to current trip; Secret – BJ, Marcy, Jenny, Ching Lee, Vicky, Lorrie; Classified to all the above and your security administrators. If you want the access levels changed let me know. Robert.”

The papers in the envelope were stamped also there were only 10 sheets in the same manner I always received from Robert; the original text and the highlighted translated text, making it easy for me to read.

After I read them, I handed them to Andy for him to read and waited until he finished.

“We anticipated the plan would be changed before the attack so this is no surprise. Do you think we are still in good shape equipment wise?” I said to Andy.

I handed Frank the report, “Has any of your Intel come up with this yet?” I asked Frank.

Frank was dialing his phone and then asking questions.

“I think we are good; we planned for any possible changes with the equipment request,” Andy replied.

“The agency says they have picked up some data but have not translated it yet. As soon as I get a report I will call you. The wimpy triplets say only chatter is coming from the area. Oh – by the way – they still want access to your intel and people,” Frank replied.

“We have already discussed that, they can crap in one hand and spit in the other and rub their hands together,” I replied.

The loadmaster came in to say that loading would be completed in 10 minutes and then passengers could find seats.

I called the girls into Lorrie’s office for the last goodbye. There were hugs and kisses, plenty of tears and kisses for little Robert and Jacob and holding them one last time.

Then we walked to the big window to watch as the last item went in and was strapped down. I gave all of them more hugs and kisses and then I walked out with the team to find a place to sit for the next 14 hours. The only things I carried were a cooler with drinks and cold sandwiches from the restaurant like everyone else did. This was not first class accommodations.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

Food, damn! There would be 40 people working in that climate and humidity – they would need 3 to 4 thousand calories a day – that’s a lot of food. I knew I did not want MREs (meals ready to eat), that meant real food.

There were less than 15 there now. If we went to restaurants, anybody looking would know for sure the complement of men; I did not really want that – I wanted to keep them guessing. It meant that anywhere they went would be in small groups until after the attack. It also meant that the attack plans could be adjusted to target us in smaller groups.

I called Bob to see of he could make us more crates, this time line the inside with the 3 inch blue insulation board, tape all seams, make sure the lids fit reasonably tight and then cut a piece of the foam board to fit in the top. Then I had Mark call around for dry ice and to find coolers to temporarily put it in.

I was thinking of so many things that could go wrong, they were beginning to get in the way. Mark came in with answers to the dry ice; if we were willing to pay extra we could get the delivery anytime.

I had him and all my administrators come in and sit down and wrote a list and a time line that it needed to be done in so everything would be ready to load on the C17 Monday morning.

The girls were waiting at my door when I finished with Mark. It was time to go to Annapolis, to buy clothes that I never dreamed of needing.

Evening dresses, cocktail dresses, party dresses. I tried on one after another. Jenny and Marcy made the decisions for me; it was a good thing because I would have left without buying any.

The first evening dress that they and I liked was $5000 dollars; I almost choked. That’s when I was confronted; Marcy, Jenny, and Vicky were in my face before Ching Lee and Lorrie could get there.

“Not only are you are representing the United States as an Ambassador, you are an Ambassador representing JBG and that is all of us. When it is time to put on the Ritz you are going to turn heads,” Marcy said with all the others agreeing.

Then there 6 more dresses of different styles. I did manage to get three pant suits at $3000 a piece. They chose two designer named jackets that could be mixed and matched with several outfits for $5000.

I kept asking myself what the difference was between a 200 dollar pant suit and one that cost $3000. I never could come up with an answer.

` “You cannot wear the same outfit to all those events” Jenny replied to my questions. “No, you cannot go in camo,”

“Every party there will require a different look. You see all the different outfits that I have to wear to the governors parties,” she replied.

Then came the jewelry to mix and match with all the outfits. First was a watch with white gold and diamonds, $4000.

“I don’t need a watch, the cell phone gives me the time,” I said.

“Elegant ladies do not look at their cell for the time,” I was told.

I have pierced ears and had worn various kinds of small earrings for years; little stars with diamonds and that kind of thing; nothing fancy or dangling to give me any problems in the gym. Now I had several sets of dangly white and yellow gold with diamonds, rubies, pearls and others. The girls had told the sales girl to stop telling me the price.

Then it was necklaces and bracelets; gold, silver, diamonds and precious stones. The price tag was still on the necklace when a mirror was held so I could see; it was the price of a top of the line Cadillac. I started to object only to get a wagging finger in my face. Too many necklaces were bought and then shoes, thank God no terribly high heels.

Finally we were ready to leave and I was glad of it. I had a feeling that while I was gone there would be new wardrobes filled with expensive clothes.

We followed Alice, Ellen and Linda into the gym, all of them were wearing nice looking glasses.

“Well, can you see now?” I asked.

“The world does look a lot different now,” Linda responded.

“I want to take you back to the gun club in the morning for a few minutes,” I said.

“We’re ready,” Ellen replied, “I have confidence we can do better.

“What did you say to Ambassador Woodman? He has called a dozen times screaming at us,” Linda asked.

“He should not be talking to you at all. His bosses and I did a conference call with him this morning; that should have put an end to it.”

“Go upstairs to Cindy’s office, one of the clerks should be there. Tell them I said to issue each of you a company smart phone and activate it. Then manually transfer the people you want from your contact list and photos. Do not put Woodman’s number on the phone! You will then take the battery out of your phones; that will make him go through proper channels,” I said.

It was after 5 PM when Dad and Jason wanted me to meet them at Morton Field parking lot. When I got there the John Deere dealer’s delivery truck was unloading the skid steer loader.

Howie and his guys had left for the day so I got the hands on operating demo. The biggest thing I needed to know was how to be able to change from the bucket to the pallet forks, which we did. I was pretty sure that some of the men could run it.

The truck Dad had bought from a dealer in Salisbury was a 10 year old GMC diesel with a 14 foot flat bed and an automatic transmission that would make it easy for anyone to drive.

The two axle over-deck equipment trailer was new. The over-deck style would work out perfectly for transporting pallets to the embassy. Dad had thought ahead and bought all kinds of straps and binders.

There were only a few items left on each list, with most of them needing to wait and be finished late Sunday afternoon.

The G5s would be returning in an hour with the 37 men and women of the RRS team. Most of them were going home; they lived locally now with cheap mortgage financing from Midwest; they had elected to move to the area. Some of the wives and kids were already here.

For those that didn’t have family in the area, Cindy had reserved motel rooms for them or a couple of the men were going to be carried to an airport near their home.

I sent Andy a message, “I am going to have to attend several what to do affairs. I am going to need an escort, someone who likes to be bored to death; who has and looks great in suits and possibly a tux and can carry on a conversation with the elite and can dance. Can you help me out with that or find someone who can?”

The general had been busy all afternoon finishing up odds and ends for me. He walked with me to the hangar to inspect all the crates Bob had made. There were a total of 24 4x4x4 foot and two 4x4x8 foot ones; two trips from the Kampala airport to the embassy would cover that.

He took measurements and pictures of the equipment and crates to send to the loadmasters for the C17 so they could work on the computer loading program. Everything had to be balanced out and placed in a spot.

I wondered how all the things that Andy had asked for would be packaged. Most likely a third trip would need to be made.

Tonight was back to the inn and then more quiet time home together. I was ready for that.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

I was on my way to VCATS; I knew things should be coming to a head by now at several places. I was not wrong; as soon as it keyed live Amy, Victor and Woodman were paging me.

Amy and Victor both knew why the swap was going on so I keyed them on a conference call.

“Ambassador Woodman is furious that you are going to keep the three ladies extra time,” Victor replied.

I explained in detail, “I need the three ladies to handle the social agenda at Kampala. They are here, experienced and willing to go and I do not have time to find or train other people. Even though we are preparing for the worst, we have to present the appearance of normal embassy operations. That was the point of this whole operation.”

There was silence on the screen for a few moments; finally Victor broke that silence, “Yes, that was one of the goals of the swap, we were so involved with the terror part we never considered the social aspect and with the six week stay, it will be necessary.”

“What do we do about Woodman?” Amy replied.

“Tell him I pulled rank, that I need my employees for a special project for six weeks.” I replied.

“I am going to add him to the conference call,” Amy replied.

“Good morning Ambassador Woodman; good to see you again,” I replied.

“Good morning Amy. Victor, I did not know you would be on this call. I was told that Alice, Ellen and Linda could come back after their training; now I am told they are not coming back for six weeks and Cynthia is packing up all their belongings to go to Kampala.”

“I want to know why before I file an official protest with the Secretary. What is so damn important in Kampala to take my people?” Ambassador Woodman almost screamed.

“It’s above your pay grade,” Amy replied.

“I have classified clearance,” Ambassador Woodman yelled.

“What is going on at Kampala is three levels above that; as I said, above your pay grade. Outside of the White House there are only 6 people who know the full story and you are talking to three of them. Make any noise and you will be called to Washington for an operational review; that would be a red X in the file and censure. We do not need any traffic that might be monitored or hacked,” Amy said.

Hmm, had she just pulled rank on him and added a threat? Sounded like it to me.

“I don’t care and I still don’t like it,” Woodman responded before he closed the window.

“There is something else going on there,” Amy replied.

“Yes and it is criminal. When I return you will have a complete report. Don’t you think it is odd that a site that is at the very bottom of the risk scale has three body guards for the ambassador’s wife? Re-evaluate the security needs there so we can discuss the details in six weeks. I would like to take two of those ladies out today,” I replied.

“Oh no, don’t do that today. He is upset enough,” Amy replied.

“OK, I have work to do and time is running out,” I replied.

I paged Ambassador Joe Bernardi at the Kampala embassy. I guess I was slightly negligent; I should have talked to him before now.

“Good evening Ambassador, I am not interrupting supper am I?” I asked.

“No, just finished and was finishing up things for tonight. You are going to run things for me while I have whatever secret surgery I am to have,” he replied.

“I heard that surgery is pretty sensitive but has a good success rate,” I replied.

“Well, just what is it? You seem to know more than I do,” he replied with a laugh.

“You don’t know? Wow, they are going to add 4 inches to your cock and make you 2 inches taller, make you 20 years younger and double your libido,” I said as I tried to keep a straight face.

“I don’t think my back can stroke 4 more inches,” he said before he broke out laughing.

“Either you know more than I do and they have sworn you to secrecy, or as little as I do,” he replied.

“You have been at this longer than I have, so we will just let it go at that. I have some questions for you.” We talked about an hour. I asked about the availability of sand to set up a beach volley ball court for exercise and about trucks to bring the pallets of materials to the embassy.

I learned that it could take a week for a trucking company to make the delivery. I did not want the items we were taking to be sitting on a freight dock for a week in that part of the world.

I also learned that while Kampala was the home to over a million people, it was the melting pot for the region with hundreds of ethnic groups and the problems that mix created.

Inflation was through the roof and many things were now hard to get or not at all. Gasoline was available most days.

Even though it was in a tropical region, even safe drinking water was a challenge at times for many people – even in the city. I was saddened to learn that most people who visited there usually ended up sick at least once until they built up immunity to the local bugs.

The answers just added to the list of things we needed to take. I had the General make some more calls, and then I called Dad to send him on a mission.

“Dad, find me a six wheel truck with a flat bed, a pintle hitch and a two axle equipment trailer. Dad, I have to have them by tomorrow evening,” I said.

I called Howie, “Howie, how much does the heaviest pallet of equipment weigh?”

“We have tried to limit them to limit them to 750 pounds max in case we have to man-handle them,” he replied.

I made another call, “Jason, call your John Deere buddy; I need a medium size skid steer loader with a bucket and a pallet fork attachment. I think a 326E or smaller; not any bigger. It needs to be here in time to be loaded on the C17 but I would really like to have it by noon tomorrow,” I said.

I went down to the refreshment center for a late lunch. The gym seemed empty even though there were plenty of regular gym customers working out and the tanning booths were really busy. With prom season coming up, all the moms and daughters wanted to sport tans at all the parties and events.

The reason the gym seemed different was that there were no embassy employees training. They were all on the way back to their respective embassies. The end result would be that all 37 persons of the rapid response team would be back by dark. The three missing were at Quito.

The General came in to hand me the instructions for loading the Blackhawk in the C17. One of the Blackhawk mechanics was flying to Kampala with us to reassemble it and check it out. He was flying back on commercial aviation as soon as his work was done. I sent the instructions to Robbie to give to the mechanics so the chopper would be ready.

The final pieces were coming together. I needed to pack my clothes, but I was going to wait until Sunday to do that job. My mates and I were going shopping for me – some expensive clothes to do the social events I was going to have to do.

Howie was on his way to review with me the list of weapons and other things packed in crates. The rest of the computers and chargers for the drones were sitting on my desk.

Howie came into my office with a handful of papers. They were the list of items we wanted to take. One was my list, one was Howie’s list and the other was Andy’s list.

We compiled the list into one and the double checked everything. I was sure that Howie and Andy were talking often about the trip needs. None of these lists included the items that I had given the General.

Speaking of the general, he was sitting in a corner chair working on questions I had asked a few minutes earlier. That was 45 marine cots, just to make sure there were enough places for everyone to sleep that were their own. I had no intentions of hot swapping bunks like they did on submarines.

Alice, Ellen, Linda and I would most likely end up in one bedroom with the rest of the bedrooms being set up as bunk rooms for the men. We were taking more than twice as many people as were currently stationed there. The cover story was that they were remodeling and upgrading the facilities. It was one more thing that would not be answered until we arrived.

Then I remembered that Ellen, Alice and Linda were not in the first body armor order. I had their sizes and weights in the HR files. They may not wear them but at least I would be able to offer.

I sent Cindy on another mission, “Find me as many single bed size air mattresses as you can find, or at least 40.”

Another call to Howie, “Send one of your guys to Lowes, get Dewalt skill saws, several different drills and bit sets, get a couple of battery pack drills and four 10kw electric start generators, make sure they work. Also get a variety of nails and deck screws.”

Damn the logistics for just forty was a bitch! I was glad we did not have to plan for 10,000 people and we still had not talked about food yet.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.