The Peacemakers by Richard Herman Page B

second-guess from the safety of their headquarters every Monday morning for the next year. Allston looked for telltale clues and saw three dismounted horsemen scrambling through the brush and away from the legionnaires. A sixth sense urged him to press the attack.
    Riley ran his checklist and reported the systems on the aircraft were fully functional and appeared undamaged. “If the gear comes down, we’re golden.”
    “A-okay in the rear,” the loadmaster said.
    “Sounds like we got lucky,” Allston said. He instinctively sensed the odds had shifted in their favor and they had a window of opportunity. It was his job to keep it open and the best way to do that was to get more firepower on the ground. “Captain, ask the patrol if the area is secure enough for the airdrop.” He still expected the legionnaires to take some casualties when they parachuted in.
    The French captain spoke into his radio and grunted in satisfaction. “Oui , Colonel, the area is secure.” There was a deep respect in his voice.
    Allston continued to circle as he called Marci’s C-130 to join on him for the drop. “I have you in sight and will join on you in three,” she radioed. “What were you guys doing over there?”
    “Just having some fun,” Allston replied.
    “Colonel Vermullen,” G.G. said over the intercom, “I’m using a new program I developed for airdrops and need to validate its accuracy under actual conditions. The computed air release point where I give the green light is based on where I want the first man to land – on the road and less than fifty meters from the trucks. If possible, can the lead jumper not maneuver and land wherever the wind blows to verify the accuracy of the system?” Vermullen replied that he was the lead jumper and would not maneuver if it looked close.
    Six minutes later, the two C-130s over-flew the legionnaires. Allston’s aircraft led and Marci’s was offset 500 feet behind and 200 feet above his. Jumpers streamed out both sides of Allston’s aircraft, shortly followed by sixty more from Marci’s Hercules. Allston immediately circled back to track the accuracy of the drop. “Vermullen in sight,” he told G.G.
    “Got him,” the navigator said.
    “Oh no!” the French captain shouted. “He will land in a tree.” The men watched transfixed as Vermullen disappeared into the top of a tall tree next to the road.
    “I’ll be damned,” Green said. “It looks like he’s fifty meters from the trucks and ten meters off the road.” He groaned. “Bird colonels don’t like landing in trees.”
    “He will not be happy,” the French captain predicted.
    “Well, you know what they say about a bird in the bush,” G.G. quipped, making the best of it.
    The two C-130s continued to circle the area as Vermullen’s legionnaires went through a well-rehearsed routine and secured the area. They were out of their parachutes within seconds after hitting the ground and formed up into firing teams. There was no attempt to join up with their assigned squads and as soon as a sergeant had five or six men, they moved out, securing the perimeter. From his perch in the tree, Vermullen had an excellent view of the action and made no attempt to lower himself to the ground. One fire team ran down the road in the direction the fleeing horsemen had taken. Whenever they came across a horse or Janjaweed lying on the ground, they fired a short burst of gunfire, making sure the unfortunate animal was out of its misery and the man was no longer a threat. It was quick, efficient, and brutal. Exactly sixteen minutes after Vermullen had landed, the area was secure and two sergeants from the patrol were waiting for Vermullen to lower himself out of the tree. They quickly briefed him on the situation.
    Allston landed first in case they had taken battle damage to the landing gear and might block the road. He eased the big aircraft onto the road and reversed the props. A cloud of dust roared out in front of them, blocking