Chapter 14
Her Name Was Nadine
(Ó 2010)
(Ó 2010)
Logan stood up from his seat to stretch himself and take a somewhat limited stroll around the train. He then returned to where his seat was. Before sitting, he stood close to the window and looked to all the land that was going behind him. Every turn of the trains wheels brought with it another mile passing by. He came to the realization now that he was never again going to see Jo-jo, Chicago … or even America ever again.
Yes, he knew that he was never going to see America ever again, as he had thought one time before so long ago. However, that was in that time … before he was Logan. This time however … it was definite. He would never return to America. It was terrible enough what he had done before and had to flee the country. Nevertheless, this … this “thing” that he had done now, not only with the police looking for him, but all the others as well. In addition, with what he had pilfered from the others, and the secrets of his “vacations” he took to the Caribbean with what he had made off with, this was now for all the best. It is best to just end it.
However, a thought did come to his mind. The thought that this time he is not leaving home, rather … he is going there.
Going home. Home … home to Lily - - -
- - - Jean-Luc wasn’t joking with Logan when he let Logan know that the debriefing with Thiebulet would go “well into the evening.” They had arrived back in Paris by mid-afternoon and to the police headquarters by 3:00 PM. It was now 9:45 PM and Logan was functioning on exactly ninety-seven minutes of sleep since the initial time he first had left Lille, and the total time of sleep since the operation began.
Everyone involved was now in the “war room” going over every minute detail for the official report that had to be written and submitted. Every piece of evidence was logged. The captive children were still at that moment being interviewed and their statements recorded. Every bullet fired was accounted for, transcripts of the radio conversations were set to record and all police and GIGN members’ statements were being reviewed.
At 10:30 PM, a uniformed officer interrupted the meeting. He entered the room to give an envelope to Captain Thiebulet. He opened and read the message and looked briefly to Logan, then thanked the officer and dismissed him.
“This is from the hospital.” Thiebulet announced. “Bela Volchescu had to have his leg amputated from the top of his knee on down.” He looked to the men in the room for their reactions, Henri and Jean-Luc had an expression of surprise, however, Logan, showed no emotion. It was if that you announced that two soccer teams that he did not care for played to a nil to nil tie. Theibulet though was discreetly pleased with Logan’s response. “All others that were wounded will recover completely, including the man who was blinded. He just had to have the shrapnel and splinters removed; he will be able to regain his sight”
Silence came to the room momentarily, then Thiebulet announced that he was satisfied and that everything was well situated enough to “call it an evening”, to which all in the room gave their separate sighs of relief. Logan himself was grateful that this evening was coming to an end. He was now beginning to feel just how weary he really was. In his mind, he thought that he would go home, shower, get dressed and then go to Le Club Argenté D'oiseau to see that girl Lily; however, his body was in conflict with his mind. It was fighting all commands from the brain, and wanted nothing else more than to shut down and go to sleep.
“Jean-Luc,” Theibulet called to his Lieutenant, “you and your team, take a few days off. You all did a splendid job.” He then looked directly to Logan, “Indeed, splendid. I thank you all. Let us all resume with this on Monday morning shall we?”
Logan, Jean-Luc and Henri stood and shook hands with the Captain, who then left the room briskly, all knew that he was satisfied.
As soon as the Captain was well down the hall from the room, Logan let out a big yawn, rubbed his eyes and looked to his watch. In his mind, he figured that if he left right at that moment that he could make it to Le Club Argenté D'oiseau anytime between 12:30 and 1:00 AM; and if Lily was not there then one of her friends surely would have to be. However, the more he planned the next couple of hours, the more his fatigued body would protest.
“I thought he would never finish” Henri said rubbing his face, “I have never known a more meticulous man. Every ‘i’ must be dotted, every ‘t’ crossed.”
“Come Logan,” Jean-Luc said laughing and he grasped Logan by the shoulder, “let us get you home so that you can get some sleep.”
"Sure thing, but I may just go out after a quick shower and a shave.” Logan answered and as he did, he rubbed the three days of growth on his face.
“Oh you think so eh?” Jean-Luc smiled, “Going to that club to see that girl? Do you think these feelings of love will recharge your batteries enough to even make it there?”
“Love?” Logan said, his eyes squinted tight, “It’s kind of early on to be using that word don’t you think Jean?”
“Love knows no timeline or schedules my friend. It could happen to you in one second, or take several years. Besides … this is Paris … the city of love.”
“I never took you as being so romantic Jean.” Said Logan.
“We are Frenchmen, Henri and I, love is second nature to us. Right my friend?” Jean-Luc said as he looked to Henri.
“Most positively,” Henri replied proudly, “Love and romance to a French man is as natural to us as our breathing.”
Logan sat with a smirk on his face.
“Don’t worry my friend,” Jean-Luc said to him, “that American part of you will melt away once you involve yourself with this girl. All you will need is she, and this city. Come let us get out of here and be on our way home. Do as the Capitan says, take these days off and make the best of them.”
Logan then stood and as he did, he felt a wave of physical fatigue flow through him. He concentrated and made his mind inform his body that it would just have to rest later on into the early morning, however his body did protest. He took a deep breath and began to walk with Jean-Luc and Henri as they left the room together.
The day’s events replayed in his mind. The one thought that dominated was that of the little girl, Ula, and how the events of this day were almost like that of that day in February of 1976.
---Nadine---
Of how back then he had a mission that involved himself … and the GIGN.
---Her name was Nadine---
The three men stepped into the hallway and made their way to the elevators, once there, Henri pressed the button that would summon the elevator car. The three men stood in silence for a moment, then Logan began to yawn. He tried to stifle it in front of Jean-Luc and Henri; however, both his comrades caught him and began to laugh.
“I’ll be okay.” Logan assured them. “Besides, I have to now ‘melt away’ that ‘American part’ of me.”
“You will be able to do so much better if you are rested.” Jean-Luc said as he smiled. “Your concentration will be focused on her, not on how exhausted you are.”
The elevator then opened and all three stepped in; Henri pressed the button that would take them to the main floor where they would leave the building. They felt the car lurch upward. Again, there was silence, Logan may have been the most tired, but Jean-Luc and Henri were also. As they stood, Logan now found himself thinking of two girls. The girl Lily and of the little girl back in that tiny African country.
- - - Nadine … how old would she have been today if? - - -
The elevator door opened and Logan came out of his thoughts. The three men stepped out into the lobby where they saw a few members of the graveyard shift starting to report for their duty. They walked quickly and greeted all that they passed. Once outside, the cool night air then accosted them and seemed to invigorate Logan. They walked directly to where Jean-Luc’s car was parked and they all went to their usual seats. Logan in the back, Henri on the passenger and of course Jean-Luc at the wheel.
The effects of the night air on Logan began to dissipate fast as soon as he sat down in the back seat, and his body was now beginning to seem to win the argument with his mind. He had to sit in the middle of the back seat. His size caused him do so, and he had one foot placed behind each of the front seats. He also had to sit with his arms crossed. He laid his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes. His thoughts now again bounced between that of the girl Lily, and of the little girl from the past … Nadine. Back and fourth between them both, it was if it were like watching a tennis match.
Some moments passed. Henri turned and looked at Logan. “Are you alright Logan?”
Logan came out of his thoughts and opened his eyes. “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m okay. All right, I admit it. I’m damn tired. Plus I was just thinking about something.”
“What is that may I ask?” Henri said.
“I was thinking about those guys, you know? Those guys in the GIGN.”
“What about them?”
“They’re still good. Damn good.”
Jean-Luc looked at Logan through the back view mirror, “That they are. You speak as if you know them.”
“Well, I have worked with them before.” Logan replied solemnly.
“You have? Really? When was this?” Asked Jean-Luc.
“Some years back … in Djibouti.”
Henri then perked his head up, his eyes seemed to widen as some instant notion came to him, “Djibouti? You are not speaking of that crisis with the French schoolchildren are you?”
Logan looked at Henri, and then slowly nodded his head ‘yes’.
Henri then asked somewhat excitedly, “You? You were involved with that school bus incident?”
“Involved?” Logan replied. “Hell man … I was on that bus.” - - -
* * *
- - - Logan began to tell Henri and Jean-Luc about his involvement in the incident in Djibouti:
“If Djibouti has the market cornered on anything … its heat. It was 1976, it was the beginning of February, and the weather was hot. That proverbial snowball we all will speak about? Well, it does have a lot better chance in hell than it does in Djibouti.
“It was an awful way to start the school day; the terrorists took the bus at around 8:00 AM that morning. Some say there was twenty-nine children, some say thirty, even thirty-one. To me, the only number that mattered came at the end of the whole ordeal.
“They were the children of the local French officials, mostly the French military. The jag offs that took the bus though, they were from yet another one of … what seems to be … that endless supply of fundamentalist groups that seem to saturate the southern hemisphere of the world, - - -
- - - “Not only in Africa,” Logan said, he then placed his hand on his chest, then slowly moved it down to his abdomen, “but in South America as well. - - -
“This one was an Islamic fundamentalist group. They called themselves the Somali Coast Liberation Front, or the FLCS. Funny thing about all those groups, they always claim that they are liberating someone or something, but they just cannot seem to do it without killing off the entire innocent population.
“Their demands we the same cliché ones that come from all these groups. That all foreign military and businesses leave the country; that all their political prisoners be released; and that Djibouti was to be declared a Fundamentalist Islamic Republic.” - - -
- - - “And of course,” Logan said as he held up both his hands, “they would be in charge of everything in this great new Islamic nation they were going to form.” Logan then placed his hand on his lower thighs, “If this grand new nation was not to be formed, then the consequence would be … that they were going to kill all those children. Couldn’t do it like the Americans and the French did, you know, through a revolution, no; they have to kill the children of those they hate … and of course God was giving them permission to do so.” Logan looked at his two friends, and began to speak with a slightly angry tone “Let me tell you something. When I was in high school back in the States, I had a radical social studies teacher who kept trying to convince us that these poor nations in Africa and such hated us, meaning western civilization. Because of our so-called arrogance, our wealth, and our ‘imperialistic’ ways. I can tell you both with complete confidence that those people in Africa don’t hate us. They don’t hate Europeans, Americans, or anyone part of western civilization. They just don’t. Because they can not. They do not have the time to hate us … because they just hate each other too much. With their tribalisms, and if it is not that, it is their differences in their religions. Then there are the different sects in those religions. I have never seen a continent where the people will find different ways and reasons to hate and kill each other as Africa does. And it’s a shame too, because if they would ever learn to just get along, they could rule the world economically. Africa … what a waste of potential.” - - -
- - - “When word got out, everyone reacted quickly. The bus was headed straight for the Somali-Djibouti border. We sent a PUMA helicopter that overtook and intercepted it. It landed right in front of it keeping the bus from crossing into Somalia. I was just meters away from the border. The Somali guards, to me, put on a great act as if they were trying to stop the bus also.
“So then there we were. The 2nd R.E.P. was there serving at the time, we were alerted and at the scene in no time. When I got there, it was such an unusual scene. Bus loaded with screaming frightened children, along with screaming terrorists. The helicopter between them, and the sun bearing down.
“They set me up near the helicopter, I was a fully trained sniper at that time - - -
- - -“But of course the Legion did not ‘officially’,” and as Logan said this, he emphasized it by doing quote marks in the air with his fingers, “have snipers at this time. Probably because of that little misunderstanding that we had with Charles DeGaulle back in 1962.” - - -
- - - “I had my crosshairs on the bus, but once in a while I would turn and set my sights on the guards on the Somalia side of the border, just to get my point across to them. And as fast as everything seemed to have come about, all of a sudden we were all at a dead standstill. What we call back in the States a ‘Mexican standoff’. Our orders were to keep everything just as it was until the GIGN would arrive. But they? … Well, they were all still in France. They had to load up their gear and fly from Paris to Djibouti, all the time making some sort of plan while we kept them abreast of the situation.
“You have to understand that the GIGN was just formed a couple of years before and had never really been used for any situation. They were about to lose their virginity with this. And they were formed by the government of Madame le’ Republique, which meant that if they succeeded, all the glory would go to them, and if it failed … it was to be the blame of the Legion. And of course, all successes the Legion would contribute would be to the credit of the GIGN.
“So there I was, looking through the scope of my rifle. I was going from one head to another, watching those bastards on that bus. I saw the face of each child and how scared they each were. My job for the next several hours was just to sit and watch, and wait for the GIGN. I had to radio my superiors on any change I saw, no matter how slight, which in turn was radioed to the GIGN guys who were at that same time on their way. I and the other Legionnaires were basically to show some force and to use that show as a stalling tactic. However, if something went wrong, we were to then step in and take the bus ourselves, and to kill every one of them dirt bags.
“You see, that’s how we were trained, to completely stop thinking and acting emotionally. To go into a state of total logic. There I was, pointing my rifle at that bus, sometimes in complete view of those dirt bags on the bus. I would sometimes be in a kneeling position, sometimes prone, but all of the time I had my crosshairs pinpointed on one of the skulls of those creeps. And I knew that they had theirs on me. But I was there for a reason, to let them know that someone is ready to die to stop them … that someone was me. I was there to send a message that this is where it was going to end, their completely sick plan and visions of grandeur. And my train of thought at the time? I was there to stop this completely. If I had to kill all of them … that is what I had to do. If I had to kill one or more of those children to stop them … that is what I had to do. If I myself had to be killed … then that is what must be done. It was okay, I was totally expendable for the greater good … for what was to be in the long term … of all things considered.
“Everything was done in terms of logic; it was of what was for the greater good, and for the long term. I’ve had to do it many times, as well as the rest of my fellow Legionnaires on these types of missions, or on missions that are commonly known as ’black operations’. We would have to stand fast and witness people being murdered, tortured, burned alive, raped. We would have to watch and wait for the right moment. Others had to be sacrificed in order to save the rest from mass murder and genocide, and above all … make our mission a success. Or, even just to save one person who was important to the French government. We had to stand fast, in order to complete any mission successfully. For the greater good, for the long-term good, for the greater good of those who survive. However I must confess that sometimes … after we had to do something like that … we would all thensecretly leave our posts to seek out these scumbags and hunt them down. When we did find and had finished with them, well lets just say we let the jungle handle the rest.
“I held my position there all through that night. It was all quiet and tense. The only sounds you heard was the desert wind and the crying from those kids on the bus, along with an occasional shout from the terrorists telling the kids to ‘shut-up’. The commotion from the children on the bus though was used to our advantage; we were very busy setting up positions, watching and studying the terrorists’ moves, as well as watching those morons on the Somalia side of the border. It was helping us to figure out who on that side were sympathizers.
“Finally, the GIGN arrived that morning. When they arrived on the scene, I was ordered to stand down and stand by. I was in a sitting position at the time. When I got the order, I slowly stood up and looked directly at each of the scumbags on the bus, and then when I turned to rejoin my unit, I gave a stare at the Somalis on the other side of the border. I gave them a little wave said to them sarcastically in English, ‘Bye-bye … kill ya later.’
“The GIGN began to set up a dialog with the terrorists and negotiated at least to get some food and water to the kids. Of course, my fellow Legionnaires and I were somewhat perturbed with this, we just wanted to storm the bus, kill the scum, and get the children back to their parents. However, unbeknownst to all of us, this was part of the strategy that the GIGN had put together. They had sent food and water to the kids and began talks. Later, they sent more food and water for the kids, and continued to talk. The talks went on into the next day. Then some more food and water was sent to the children, and as it was being delivered, we were all ordered to be at the ready, for we were now being given plans to storm the bus.
“It turned out that the negotiations were all bullshit. The GIGN had no intentions of letting any of those pieces of shit go. All of the talks were just a ploy to gain some confidence from the terrorists, and to get the food and water to the children. You see, the food they had sent to them this time was laced with tranquilizers. The plan was simple. The drugs would make all the children fall asleep so that the only people moving around would be the terrorists. A separate GIGN sniper would be assigned to the head of one of the terrorists, and then simply pick them all off. I was put together with the team that was going to enter the bus as soon as the shooting ended to insure all the terrorists were neutralized, and to evacuate all the children.
"Yeah, the plan was very simple, that’s probably why it began to deteriorate. We were informed that the drugs should begin to take effect within twenty minutes or so. I was set up with my team, watching through my binoculars, and kept looking at my watch. It was a long twenty minutes, and soon I saw some of the kids beginning to fall asleep. They would slump down in their seats and their heads would go below the window line. Unfortunately, the bastards on the bus began to sense something wrong as well. The children going quiet then asleep set off an alarm to them and we could see that they were all starting to become agitated. They began to start to shake some of the kids to wake them up, they were shouting to each other in their language and you could see the panic starting to take over.
“We then were radioed the order to stand by to attack and enter the bus. We were at the ready, and in a minute or so, a quick volley of gunfire went off and most of the windows of the bus shattered. I then heard our Lieutenant begin to scream to us, ‘MOUVEMENT! MOUVEMENT! MOUVEMENT! ALLEZ! ALLEZ! ALLEZ!’ (MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! GO! GO! GO!). Then we all ran towards the bus with our rifles pointed forward.
“The first thing I saw when I entered the bus was that the woman bus driver was holding a little girl who was fast asleep on her lap, and I don’t know how it happened, but I was third in line when we entered the bus, but somehow I ended up being in the back of it. We all did a security sweep to make sure all the terrorists were dead. However when I got to the back I found the last one alive, he was badly wounded and was trying to escape out the back emergency door, which was now open slightly ajar. As I raised my rifle to the level of his face he simultaneously grabbed the nearest child to him and held her if front of him. He still had a handgun and he was pressing it so hard on her head that I thought that he was going to push the barrel of it right into her skull. He then stood up with her, on arm around her, the other with the gun to her head.
"I just stood there with the barrel of my rifle pointed right at his face. I didn’t say a word or respond to anything that he was saying. He was shouting his demands in a mixture of Arabic and Somali dialects that I could only piece together. But I knew what it was, the usual, ‘Stay away or I’ll kill this girl!’, and he kept moving his gun from her head to mine. To add a little to the drama, he would sometimes drop the gun and aim it at one of the other children who were asleep in their seats. I just stood still, holding my gun at his head, letting him scream both his threats and his praises to Allah. I was waiting now, waiting for just the right moment, actually the right second.
“My eyes were fixated on him. At that moment, the only people in the world were him, the girl and myself. I just let him rant and scream. I stared at him with absolutely no sign of emotion on my face. Waiting and contemplating what I would have to do. If I had to blow his head off right there … so be it. If I had to let him shoot me before I killed him … so be it. If I had to kill both him and the little girl to end this … so be it. Just as long as he was killed in the aftermath, that’s all that mattered. I was in a total state of logical thought.
“Then things seemed to go into slow motion. His gun going back and forth, from my head, to the little girls, all the time him screaming insanely. The gun … going from my head, to the girls. From my head … to the girls. From my head, to …
“Then … he made his final mistake. For some reason, when he had the gun to her head and began to bring it back to point to mine, he stopped midway, and he was shaking it at me, with the barrel pointed to the ceiling.
“I pulled my trigger. My bullet hit him right into his left eye and went out the back of his skull. I can still see the shockwave from the bullet violently puff up the girls’ hair as it passed by her head. I grabbed her with my free hand as the scumbag flew back, hitting the emergency door and falling out the back of the bus. I had the girl now in my free arm and I set her down in her seat, her hair was now drenched in the dirt bags blood. I stepped to the exit way of the door to make sure he was dead with my rifle pointed down at his body. The blood was flowing freely from what was left of his head making a crimson puddle in the desert sand. I jumped down anyway to take a closer look.
“All was still for a moment as I walked over to the body. Then, I heard more gunfire from behind me. I quickly turned and I saw some idiot running from the Somali side of the border shooting into the bus. I heard his bullets hitting the metal and glass, and he was screaming out some of the same propaganda bullshit the guy I just killed was screaming. I returned his gunfire, along with that of about ten other GIGN men and Legionnaires and he dropped face down … dead.
“Then we all drew our weapons to the Somali guard post and anyone there who was thinking of engaging us in a firefight immediately had a change of heart. They all secured their weapons and stepped back.
“It was over. I then jumped back onto the bus to help evacuate the children. The first one I picked up was the little girl whom I had just killed the terrorist over. I took her out the same back emergency door and came round to the front of the bus with her, the side where the front entry door was that the children would use to board. There was a small commotion going on up there and they were shouting for some medical assistance. I handed the girl I had over to a medic who quickly took her away. I then went to the front of the bus to help more with the evacuation, when I got there I saw what the disturbance was about.
“The bullets from the Somali who ran toward the bus had gravely wounded the driver, and had also killed the little girl who was sitting on her lap. The driver was somewhat conscious and crying, the child’s head was resting on her chest. The girl’s face looked as though she was just sleeping, as if nothing had even gone on. But, you saw the blood on her clothes, and the color begin to leave her body. I stared at her for the longest time that is until the Sergeant-chef screamed at me to move my ass. I turned to the guards at the Somali border and I began to briskly step towards them. The all began to stand when I stopped just a few feet from them and I began to shout something at all of them in English, I was so angry. Then I heard the Sergeant-chef screaming at me again, only this time to move my ass back and rejoin my fellow Legionnaires.” - - -
* * *
- - - Logan now felt the car came to a complete stop. He looked out his window to see that he, Jean-Luc and Henri were now stopped in front of the entryway of his apartment building. Jean-Luc and Henri were both looking over their shoulders ready to hear the rest of Logan’s story.
“One,” Logan said holding up his index finger, “we saved thirty, but that one that died was all that mattered to me. The five terrorists we killed meant nothing, but her, that one, that’s all that mattered. You see, after the missions are completed, and all is said and done, we have to go back to our forts and our living quarters where the logic side gives back to the human and emotional one. We are not made of stone you know.”
Henri and Jean-Luc remained quiet shortly, and then Jean-Luc said, “You go in now Logan and get some sleep.”
“No,” He replied as he seemed to become wide awake, “I got the adrenaline all kicked in. I’m going to get all cleaned up, dressed up, and I’m going to go see that Lily girl.”
“Are you sure?” Asked Henri.
“Yes, I’m sure. Don’t worry guys, I’ll be okay.” Then Logan opened the door and stepped out of the car. He took a couple of deep breaths of the night air and looked around his street. Jean-Luc and Henri were expecting him to say ‘good-night’ to them both, but instead Logan looked to them both and said, “Nadine.”
Henri looked confused and asked, “I beg your pardon?”
“Nadine.” Logan said. “The little girl who was killed on the bus. Her name was Nadine. I’ve never forgotten her.” He then had a slight smile come to his face, and he then gave a small wave and said, “Good-night guys, see you both on Monday.”
Both Jean-Luc and Henri said goodnight back to him, then drove away leaving Logan on the sidewalk. Henri looked in the rear view mirror at him until they had turned the corner. He looked over to Jean-Luc and said, “It is unbelievable.”
“What is that?”
“That right now, somewhere in the world, there a men like Logan doing God knows what against some real over the edge evil people, and we know nothing of it.”
“Yes,” Jean-Luc agreed, “and thank God for them.”
Meanwhile, Logan made his way back to his apartment. Once in he stripped off the clothes, went to his bathroom and turned on the shower. He stepped in and let the hot water engulf him, starting with the top of his head, down the back of his neck and over his shoulders and back. He felt all the dirt and smells from the last three days flow off him. He then took the shampoo and soap and built up a thick lather all over his body, and then he let the hot water rinse it all off him. He stood under the showerhead and felt the ecstasy of the hot water as his body began to relax.
He turned off the water and stepped out from the shower. He toweled himself dry and wrapped the towel around his waist. He stepped over to the mirror to examine his face with the three days of beard growth. He decided to shave, but first he would go out on some clean underwear. He went to his dresser, found a clean pair, removed his towel and put the briefs on. He then sat on the side of his bed. Once he did, he began to feel the fatigue that in his body, he tried to fight it, wanting desperately to go to Le Club Argenté D'oiseau and see Lily. However now, the relaxing hot shower, combined along with how tired his body really was and with the quiet serenity of his room, he decided that he would lie down “just for a moment.”
Once he did so … he fell immediately into a deep restful sleep. - - -
- - - Logan came from his thoughts as he now heard the sound of the brakes on the trains’ wheels and felt the deceleration. Next, a voice came over the loudspeaker announcing that the Wolverine had come to the destination where he was to get off … Logan was now in Detroit. Here he would now take his bag, find a taxi and make his way to the Ambassador Bridge, and to once again just as he had done before … before he was Logan … escape through Grandmother’s Land.
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