-------------------------------------------------- Some Time in October, Salisbury, Rhodesia -------------------------------------------------- "Abraham, welcome, please, join me." Byron Starr stood, towering over the older black man. Starrs' face looked like a slab of ham, the shaved bald dome of his head crisscrossed by dozens of scars. The man played rugby in his spare time and it was clear he had tried to tackle more than one person with his face on multiple occasions. The battered look often led people to underestimate his intelligence. "Thank you, Byron," Abraham smiled as he spoke, his teeth white against the dark colour of skin. "I hope everything is well?" "Should it not be?" Byron replied as he sat in a plush armchair, gesturing for Abraham to join him in the second chair on the small veranda overlooking "Government Park", a large green space surrounded on all sides by federal office buildings. This was the heart and soul of the Rhodesian nationstate. "I was unsure if you had decided to "unforgive" me after I failed to obtain a place for you in the African Union. If I can use a word like unforgive." "Ah, heh, no." Byron gave a good natured chuckle that sounded like boulders rumbling down a hillside. "We fully expected to be rejected, but we tried, and now I don't have to feel guilty about telling our neighbours to pound sand when they want something for free." Abraham nodded, lowering himself into the other chair with a sigh. The park in front of him featured several small lakes, a river, and an amazing collection of Rhodesian plant life. He had been fortunate enough to walk the shaded paths on numerous occasions and still found an obscure joy watching the small primates that called it home run freely through the boughs of the massive Khaya trees. "I don't imagine you just asked me here to watch squirrel monkeys..." Abraham let his words die away as he eyed the big whiteman. "No, I did not." Byron replied with some stiffness and Abraham felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. "I wanted to talk to you about the troubles you're having with Communist rebels in the Empire." Abraham was surprised, the Rhodesians had always been very careful to keep their nose out of the internal affairs of other African nations, officially at least. He was well aware of the airstrikes and special forces raids into neighbouring countries, though he didn't blame them at all. He would have done the same in their position. "What about it?" He asked carefully, not quite sure where the other man was going to take the conversation. "Let us be frank, Abraham. The Empire is more or less losing this fight. I have my suspicions as to why but I won't test our friendship by suggesting those reasons to you." Abraham nodded. He knew that the Rhodesians held the Imperial family in contempt at pretty much every level and did not need to ask who Byron was referring to. It was perhaps lucky they just happened to hate communists more. "I invited you here today to offer your our support, militarily that is." Byron finished his sentence rather quickly as he leaned back in his chair to observe the Ethiopian. The man was handsome, in his late fifties, and probably the Ethiopian most trusted by the Rhodesian government. "You want to offer us support?" Abraham asked the question to buy time as his mind mauled over the idea. "Yes. I think, pardon the expression, but as one of your aides said of me, better the devil you know." Abraham laughed at that. He remembered the incident clearly. He had been relatively new to his post in Rhodesia when he had first met Byron, after which his aide-de-camp had made the comment. "I understand. I imagine Rhodesia is not to keen on Communists running rampant." Abraham had composed himself and made the comment carefully. Communism was popular among the black rebel factions in Rhodesia and they had killed plenty of people. It was only in the last month that Rhodesian special forces had managed to ambush and kill the final significant black communist inside their borders. He felt sympathy for the rebels, not as communists but as people wanting their country back. He also acknowledged that the white Rhodesians were part of Africa and a right to exist as well. It was a tangled mess he danced carefully around. Byrons' youngest son had been killed by communist soldiers two years previously. "Quite." Byrons' reply was short and the flicker of pain on his face told Abraham that the two men had been thinking along the same lines. "They are a stain and we will hunt them to the ends of the earth." "What do you offer Ethiopia?" Abraham brought the conversation back on track. He observed a vein beginning to pulse on the edge of the white cannonball head and knew the signs of stress well enough. "Aircraft, artillery, and naval support if you need our fast destroyer." Byron shifted his attention swiftly back to the matter at hand and was businesslike again. "We aren't willing to commit any serious ground force but I have been authorized to suggest a large contingent of support units." Abraham tilted his chin back as he thought for a moment. The Rhodesians were eerily skilled with what resources they had at hand. Their messy divorce from the British Empire had made them very self sufficient and he had often thought of them as an army with a nation. Their war with the Portuguese had taught them the value of aircraft and since then they had assembled one of the finest air fleets in the world. In his minds eye he could see the Rhodesian aircraft ripping through Ethiopian skies to send communist forces fleeing. It was a tempting image. Abraham, though he rarely spoke of it, had four sons in the army. He personally believed they would be much safer with a highly professional airforce on their side. "I can only say I am thankful for the offer, as are my boys." He swallowed a lump threatening to rise in his throat. "I will certainly convey the request to my superiors. Exactly what forces can you provide?" "I am told not to provide exact numbers until we receive a confirmation, or otherwise, from your government. For obvious reasons." Rhodesia had survived through paranoia and preparation. They trusted virtually no one and Abraham could guess just how deeply the their hatred of communists ran if they were willing to support the Imperial faction. "Very well, I will pass the offer to my superiors as soon as I have returned to the office." Bryon smiled. "Excellent. Victory or Death." It was a Rhodesian battlecry and Abraham had no doubt that they meant it.