Josh Duffy sat in his cubicle in the chancery of the U.S. embassy in Accra, Ghana, and scrolled through images of doorknobs on his computer.
He wasn’t in the market for a doorknob himself; rather, he was trying to find digital locks to upgrade the ones at another nearby apartment complex that the State Department wanted to begin using to house employees.
Part of Josh’s portfolio here was to keep the residences of the U.S. embassy staff up to the right security protocols. This meant every time a new local landlord offered an apartment building or condo facility, Josh had to check it for suitability and bring in local contractors to upgrade it if necessary.
Walls, cameras, locks, bars on windows, secure access to entrances and common areas…it was all subject to precise specifications laid out by DS.
He was new here, on the job just a week, but he’d already been given a lot to do. He’d been put in charge of the Residential Security Program, hence his search for doorknobs, but he also supported the assistant regional security officer for investigations, which meant he spent a large chunk of each day, when he wasn’t looking at locking mechanisms or checking in on the guard forces at all residential compounds where Americans worked, looking into potential acts of visa fraud committed by Ghanaians trying to come to the United States.
The U.S. embassy in Ghana had one hundred fifty or so Americans working in it, but some six hundred fifty locals worked here, as well. This was one of the larger embassies in Africa, and it was a busy place for DS, but that wasn’t due to any insurgent threat like what could be encountered in some nations, or a hostile local government like in others.
No, here the biggest challenge to the security of the embassy and those who worked there came in the form of EDPs. Emotionally disturbed persons were a daily occurrence around the perimeter of the compound, people outside the fence of the embassy who wanted in, many of whom were under the impression that America was their enemy.
These were small threats that usually the LGF, or Local Guard Force, took care of before the EDP made it within the walls of the compound itself, but here in the chancery, the center of the embassy and the building where the ambo herself worked, Josh and the rest of the DS staff were always vigilant, prepared on the off chance that the shit might someday hit the fan.
Behind where he sat at his desk looking at doorknobs, just in front of the bulletproof window, a wooden stand held his green body armor with the emblem for the Bureau of Diplomatic Security stitched in, a rack of rifle magazines, and a utility belt from which a Glock 19 in a retention holster hung. On the top of the stand a helmet rested, and night vision goggles were mounted on them.
The name tape on the chest rig of the body armor read “Duffy,” and a pair of black Pelican cases also stenciled with his name sat right beside it.
His rifle was in the armory down in Marine Post One at the front of the chancery, a bulletproof box of a room manned by a Marine guard 24/7, watching security cameras and staying in contact with the Marine Security Guards who lived here on the compound.
While an attack on the embassy here in Accra was considered highly unlikely, there was something else on Josh’s plate that did, in fact, look like actual security work. A joint delegation from the European Union—including Johanna Aldenburg, the diplomat whose daughter he’d rescued in Washington six months earlier—would be arriving in two days, and then she, her entourage and security team, Ghanaian president Francis Amanor and his contingent, as well as U.S. ambassador Dunnigan and her team, would be shuttling to six locations around the country via helicopters on a thirty-six-hour press tour.
The EU and the United States had partnered on several new infrastructure and development initiatives here in Ghana, and this was seen as both a fact-finding trip for the EU’s chief diplomat and an opportunity to publicize to the rest of Africa just what the West could do for them in exchange for good relations.
It was no secret that China had garnered major influence on the continent in the past decade or so, loaning money and building bridges, ports, and highways, all as part of Beijing’s Belt and Road Initiative. The United States and Europe had been all but squeezed out in that time, but an economic crisis in China had offered an opening to the West that the EU and Americans had been quick to capitalize on.
Josh knew that the trip through the country on board French military helicopters would be interesting, and he was also excited by the fact that the U.S. ambassador had asked Nichole to join her for the journey.
As he clicked out of a web page and made some notes on a pad about checking the locking mechanism in his own residence, he heard the door up the hall open with a click, and then the voice of the Diplomatic Security Office management assistant. “Hey, Nichole,” she said.
“Morning, Olga.”
He looked at his G-Shock watch and realized it was time for a meeting about the upcoming mission.
While Josh worked in a decent-sized cubicle, a larger office was just across from him. RSO Jay Costa, the top DS agent at the embassy, stepped out of it just as Josh’s wife made it down the hall to her husband, and the three of them went to a conference room across the second-floor atrium of the chancery building.
Here they met Benjamin Manu, the Ghanaian Foreign Service National Investigator who worked for State, as well as Assistant Regional Security Officer Chad Larsen. The fourth DS special agent had gone on a temporary-duty assignment to Morocco, but she’d be back before the trip to watch over the embassy while Manu would serve as another member of the ambassador’s protection detail.
The DS contingent and Nichole sat down in a conference room with several embassy staffers, everyone going on the trip except the ambo herself. Four Foreign Service Officers including Nichole—Josh could only remember a couple of their names—plus four Local Body Guard agents on the ambassador’s protection detail. These Ghanaians, like Benjamin Manu, were former cops and worked here at the embassy after strict vetting and training in the United States, and all four had sworn to guard the ambassador with their lives.
Costa ran the security portion of the meeting. “Today is Monday,” he began. “Wednesday, the high representative of the European Union for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, Johanna Aldenburg, will arrive around two p.m. There will be a reception for her and her staff, for us, and for the Ghanaians at the French embassy at seven p.m. The ambo will attend, so me, Duff, and Chad will serve as her detail for the event.
“The next morning is when the fun starts. Six stops in thirty-six hours, all over the nation. The only way to do this is by air, so the French are bringing in three Airbus H225M Caracals for the trip, one for the EU, one for President Amanor and his group, and one for us. Each bird seats twenty-four, and there are fifty in total, including security and traveling press, so we won’t have to worry about space.
“Day one is the coastal harbor in Takoradi, then we go up to Kumasi to a new medical clinic, then Tamale to cut the ribbon on the EU/US-funded industrial park there. We’ve coordinated with local police; we’ll have armored transpo and mobile SWAT teams at all three stops. Day two will be Yendi for another drop-in to learn about the security situation up by the border; that will entail a short motorcade for the entourage to the tribal chieftain’s home, supported by Ghanaian army troops. Next, we fly back down south for the short press opportunity to announce the joint redevelopment program at the Akosombo Dam. That one is just a twenty-five-minute stop, wheels down to wheels up, and we’ll land at the facility so there’s no need for a motorcade. We’ll be supported there by River Command police, as well as local cops from Akosombo town nearby.
“The last stop is back here in Accra at Jubilee House, the president’s residence, for a get-together, and then we return to the embassy.”
Jay said, “To sum it up, we’ll leave Accra from the airport at eight a.m. on Thursday and return at four p.m. on Friday, and then the EU high rep will board her aircraft back to Belgium by seven.”
He added, “It’s a tight timeline with a lot of moving parts to it, but we’re ready.”
A Foreign Service Officer named Karen Chamberlin spoke next about the protocol, who they would be meeting with, where everyone was to stand at the events, even the length of each speech planned. There were questions and clarifications, of course, but after an hour the meeting broke up. Josh walked his wife back to her office on the second floor of the chancery, and as he did so he leaned closer to her and spoke softly, lest anyone else hear.
“It’s one…big…two-day…photo op.”
Nichole sighed. “It’s optics, babe. The press coverage of this prestigious joint Ghanaian, American, and European delegation going out into the countryside to talk to the officials and to herald new investments in the country will mean something to the people here. We have to show them we are partners who are committed to these projects.”
“I’ll just be glad when it’s over.”
Nichole stopped in the hall and looked at her husband. “You guys at DS have had meetings with CIA about the mission, right?”
“Jay did.”
“What did they say about the threats?”
“Jay says they basically told us to keep an eye open, and we should be totally fine.”
She chuckled at this. “Well, that’s super helpful.”
“Yeah. Seriously, though, Jay thinks our biggest threat will be EDPs at the sites and at the hotel in Tamale, and no terroristic threat to speak of.”
Nichole started walking again, and her husband followed. “So you have to work during the party at the French residence?”
“Unfortunately,” Josh said. “You’re going, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll ask Portia if she can stay late.”
Josh smiled. Addressing his wife, he said, “Dude. We have a fucking nanny.”
She laughed. “I know. I feel like an elitist asshole.”
“You’ve scrubbed your share of toilets. You don’t have an elitist bone in your body.”
They kissed, she went back to her office, and Josh went back to his computer to look at more doorknobs.