Enemies in Disguise (ii)

When the plane landed, Aaron and the mercenaries saw a vehicle surrounded by two dozen of Fazul's armed men emerging from the bushes. The men were brandishing AK-47 assault rifles and various other guns, pointing them directly at Aaron. The dry Kenyan heat and dust swirled around the tense scene.

The first member of Aaron's mercenary team was a large, a man named Viktor Kozlov. With a shaved head and numerous scars, he looked every bit the hardened veteran. He carried an enormous .50 caliber anti-material rifle that he had nicknamed "Anzio's Nightmare" because of its devastating power. The heavy weapon's barrel seemed to follow every movement.

The second mercenary was a petite but fierce-looking Asian named Jade Liu. Despite his diminutive size, he moved with the coiled tension of a jungle cat ready to strike. She had twin pistols holstered at her sides - a matched set of powerful .500 Magnum revolvers that she called "Ebony" and "Ivory." Her hands hovered near the grips.

The third mercenary was a Latino man named Gabriel Nunez. Tall and rangy, he had the look of someone who had spent years in rough operations. He carried a bulky M32A1 grenade launcher that he had painted with the words "Mr. Sachmo" down the side in white letters, a dark joke.

Along with the three mercenaries were two others. One was Sergeant Aisha Delgado, a no-nonsense military woman with kanji symbol tattoos covering her shaved scalp. She was holding a compact FN Five-seveN pistol she referred to as "Petite Piquante." Her eyes constantly scanned for threats.

The other was a scruffy-looking smuggler named Cyrus Beaumont. His unshaven face and unkempt appearance made him look like a man who had spent too much time in the underworld. He was carrying a menacing AA-12 fully automatic shotgun nicknamed "Lucille" that looked as weathered as its owner.

As the tension mounted, Aaron suddenly started laughing loudly. His mirth caught everyone off guard. The man who had tried to hijack their operation looked terrified, sweat beading on his brow as he didn't understand the humor. With a smile, Aaron abruptly pulled out a well-worn pistol and shot the would-be hijacker dead. The man crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around him.

The others turned to stare at Aaron. In Delgado's mind, she thought "Isn't this the same gentle guy from the plane?" They had all shared drinks and laughs with after they convinced him when he wants to hijack their plane . Yet here he was, having just killed in cold blood without a second thought. They had all laughed at Aaron's action in unison, but it was a nervous reaction, unsure of what would happen next.

For about five minutes, the two armed groups simply pointed their weapons at each other in a tense standoff. The dry winds blew dust clouds between them. Then a beat-up minivan pulled up, kicking up more dust as it braked. In the front passenger seat sat Fazul, his expression unreadable behind mirrored sunglasses.

When he arrived, Fazul barked orders in the guttural Kenyan language for his men to lower their guns, which they quickly did. He emerged from the van, a broad-chested man with greying stubble and pockmarked skin, the signs of a lifetime of hard living.

Fazul greeted Aaron with a firm handshake and a hug between old friends. There were genuine smiles between the two men. "Ramsey sends his regards," Aaron said with a grin, using the name of their mutual criminal contact in that part of the world. Fazul threw back his head and laughed heartily at this.

Fazul's men then started efficiently loading the consignments from the plane into a larger van while Fazul personally welcomed Delgado and the mercenaries. He apologized profusely for the delay and tense greeting, saying they had been awaiting another shipment and thought these were rival players trying to cut in on their action.

Once the goods were transferred, Fazul climbed into the same vehicle as Aaron and the mercenaries. But no sooner were they on the road through the dusty back-routes than they were ambushed by Kenyan soldiers lying in wait. One of the soldiers fired a rocket-propelled grenade that struck the ground in front of them, flipping their heavy vehicle over with a thunderous explosion.

In the chaos, Aaron and his team poured out firing their weapons at the soldiers who had opened up with assault rifle fire. They took cover amid the smoke and dust clouds as bullets zipped past them. After a protracted firefight, they managed to eliminate the ambush team with precisely aimed shots and grenade volleys.

When the dust settled, Fazul checked himself and saw his clothes were soaked in blood from shrapnel wounds to his arm and torso. Gritting his teeth against the pain, they rushed him to a nearby walled compound to treat his injuries as he continued bleeding heavily.

No sooner had they arrived than Gabriel Nunez collapsed to the floor of the compound, a crimson stain quickly spreading across his fatigues. He had been struck by gunfire in the ambush but had been running on adrenaline until reaching their destination. Despite the frantic efforts of the others to pack his wounds, the mercenary bled out at an alarming rate and died within minutes in Cyrus's arms.

The team held a solemn ceremony that evening at sunset,burying Nunez's body wrapped in blankets amid the arid brush with traditional Muslim prayers after cleaning his body per ritual customs. Candles flickered in the twilight as the grim group paid their final respects to a fallen brother.

That night at dinner inside the compound, Fazul - with his arm in a sling and hand bandaged - and Aaron's group shared a meal together of skewered goat meat and flatbread. Part way through, Fazul's brother Juma arrived and sat down to join them, his disarming smile contrasting with his automatic weapon.

As they ate, Juma told the story of how Fazul had grown up. "Fazul was born into extreme poverty in the slums of Nairobi. His parents abandoned him as a little kid, so he had to hustle to survive on the streets from a very young age."

Juma explained how Fazul fell in with an older gang of street children who taught him to pickpocket, mug people, and commit petty crimes just to get enough food and money to get by each day. "The things he saw and went through - vicious beatings, being robbed himself, having to beat or kill just to make it through the night. It turned him into one hard, merciless person by the time he was a teenager."

"By his late teens, Fazul had built a reputation as someone you could rely on for the real dirty work that no one else would do. He got involved with the drug cartels, running guns and contraband too. He did whatever it took, no matter how brutal, bloodthirsty or cruel."

Juma's eyes took on a faraway look as he recounted those horrific years. "While his childhood was just about the worst you can imagine for any kid, Fazul's viciousness, ruthlessness and cunning helped him take control of the whole criminal underworld here. These days, he's the biggest operator around and the most feared too. The other gangs know not to cross him."

The mercenaries and even Aaron sat in silence, taking in the tale of how Fazul had risen from such an impoverished, violent background to become the powerful warlord he was now. Even they looked surprised by some of what they heard about the depths of depravity he had survived.

The next morning, the team prepared to depart back . As they were boarding the plane, Delgado spotted Aaron and Fazul sharing an extended, emotionally-charged goodbye. The two men laughed like old friends, slapped backs and embraced tightly. "I'll see you soon, my friend. Business is good," Fazul said with a smile as they parted.

Aaron joined the others and their plane took off, leaving the warlord and his armed compound behind in the Kenyan heat. But Delgado knew their paths would cross again before too long, however unfortunate their deals with the likes of Fazul were. he stared out the window as the plane climbed, watching the wilderness stretching in all directions.