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The convoy of four white Landrovers and an armoured vehicle, all clearly marked UN, had been steadily moving south east and was now on a good road which ran parallel to the Great Zab River in north-eastern Iraq. They were trailed by a Kurdish limousine containing four Peshmerga fighters.
Having seen some of the worst of the conflict areas, the inspectors now wanted to speak to some of the local people outside the current conflict area, so they were heading towards Sheladiz.
The town itself was too large for the inspectors’ needs. While the views of larger communities were important, those living in the countryside seem to have had the worst time during the troubles. A stop was made beside the river, just to the north of the town. A few dwellings were scattered around the hillside.
As the convoy came to a halt, the eight UN soldiers were quickly out of the armoured car and Landrovers, weapons at the ready, binoculars scanning the overlooking hills. The Kurdish car pulled up behind them and the Peshmerga fighters leaned lazily on the vehicle while two went off to relieve themselves on the river side of the road.
Heaven knows what the two nearby middle-aged men thought of the aliens stepping out of the middle Landrover. Yol Ghal Selin was a heavily built Purrs, even larger than Yol Merofort. The other, Ya Strin Verolmoron was a Racutaan, similar in build and appearance to the Ambassador.
Yol Selin called out to the people in perfect esponged Arabic, ‘Don’t be afraid. We are inspectors from the Galactic Federation and would like to ask you some questions.’
The two men walked tentatively towards the group. An old woman, a younger woman, and some children ran from an outbuilding into the main building.
‘And your women. Don’t be concerned, we are just gathering information. Bring the children too,’ shouted Yol Selin.
‘These are UN troops. They won’t harm you. They are here to protect us,’ called Ya Verolmoron.
The men came closer and the women and children overcame their apprehension and slowly made their way down the slope.
‘I know I look like a gorilla, but I’m actually a real person from another planet,’ said Yol Selin.
‘How have you been managing through the conflict?’ asked Ya Verolmoron as the family approached.
The women were heavily veiled, but one said, ‘It has been hard. Food is expensive and the Daesh fighters stole our seeds and livestock. They killed the young men.’
One of the children reached out to touch the Purrs’ blue hair, then snatched his hand away.
‘It’s okay,’ Yol Selin said quietly. ‘Shake my hand,’ and he put out his huge palm towards the child who took it and gently shook it, snatching his hand away again and running behind one of the women. Perhaps it was his mother.
In the distance, coming from Sheladiz was a ten-ton lorry, making its way leisurely northwards. The UN troops suggested the inspectors get into one of the Landrovers.
The family looked towards the truck and, seeing the aliens were gone, returned towards their home. A cloud of dust was being kicked up by the heavy vehicle’s wheels.
When the truck came level with the Landrovers, the rear canopy lifted and up to a dozen armed men opened fire with AK47s. They were careful not to hit the central Landrover.
The Peshmerga jumped into action and sprayed the lorry with their own fire but were totally outnumbered.
The truck came to a halt and some twenty men climbed down to the road. Two of the fighters were injured and the leader, wearing a white bandana, shouted for the driver to take them for treatment. He walked to the Landrover and said, ‘Out!’
Yol Serin, Ya Verolmoron, and a UN soldier climbed out of the vehicle apprehensively.
‘What are you?’ asked the leader, prodding the Racutaan with his rifle.
‘We’re Federation inspectors sent to find out about the conflict in the north of your country. Why have you killed these people?’ said Ya Verolmoron.
The leader and one of the others, pushed the inspectors around, examining their skin, particularly the ape’s. The leader ripped the breathing system from Ya Verolmoron’s face and recoiled at the strange double vertical jaw he saw beneath it.
‘I need the mask. It provides me with trace gases necessary to my life. We’re not of Earth.’
The leader looked at the mask, the small canister attached, just a few centimetres long, and sniffed the outlet. ‘It smells of nothing. How do you speak our language?’
‘It is a colourless, odourless chemical. I cannot survive more than a few minutes without it. We learned your language so that we could truly understand you.’
Orders were barked which resulted in the bodies of the UN soldiers being pushed over the embankment and down towards the river. One was still alive, and a fighter shot him in the head.
‘We intended no harm to anyone in this region. We wanted to understand the conflict, its causes and why it continues,’ said Yol Serin.
‘Shut up, ape. I’m thinking,’ said the leader. He turned to the only remaining UN soldier and shot him in the head at point blank range. Yol Serin recoiled as blood splattered across him.
Time was passing as the fighters talked amongst themselves. Ya Verolmoron was starting to breathe heavily. ‘Please, the mask. Please,’ she said.
The man looked at it again, held it to his face and breathed deeply. ‘It does nothing.’
‘You don’t need it and it’s harmless to you, but I must have it,’ she said.
‘Can we trust the family?’ the leader asked one of his men.
‘I’ll find out,’ he replied and walked up the slope towards the building.
Ya Verolmoron collapsed.
‘You are killing her,’ said Yol Serin. ‘Give her the mask before it’s too late. She’s from another world, as am I?’
‘I told you to shut up!’ the man shouted and hit the ape hard on the side of his head with a hand gun.
He looked at the Racutaan, lying in the dirt, and threw the mask at her. She quickly grabbed it and pulled it into position, ‘Thank you,’ she gasped.
‘Search them,’ said the leader, and two of his men patted down the aliens, removing their communication devices.
‘What are these?’ asked the leader.
‘Communication devices,’ said Yol Serin.
He threw them on the floor and stamped on them until they were in pieces.
‘Get in the vehicle,’ the leader said.
The Landrover had three seats in front and six in the back, three on each side facing each other. The fighters made the aliens sit on one side while three fighters sat opposite them and the leader sat in front. One of the others drove. They sped up a track into the hills.
When out of sight of the Sheladiz road, they parked up as if waiting for something.
‘Why are you on our world?’ asked the leader.
‘We’re part of a diplomatic team from the Federation, studying your world in case you wish to join,’ said Ya Verolmoron.
‘What is the Federation?’
‘Have you not been following the news. We’ve been on Earth for several weeks,’ said Yol Serin.
‘I saw it,’ said the driver. ‘Space ship in Central Park in New York.’
‘It would be a good gesture if you released us,’ said Ya Verolmoron.
‘Shut your face, freak!’ said the leader.
A Mercedes minibus with darkened rear windows came up the track and everyone from the Landrover transferred into it. The vehicle descended the hillside and on to the main road towards Sheladiz.
‘Call Asid,’ said the leader, ‘and make sure no one is anywhere around when we arrive... and I mean no one! Nobody must see these... things!’
One of the guards used his cell phone to make the call.
Fifteen minutes later, the minibus entered the town and soon pulled into a large, detached villa. Two men stood at the entrance. Once the vehicle had entered, they closed the gates which were constructed from sheet steel with a spiked top.
‘Get them inside and down to the cellar quickly.’
Everyone scrambled out of the minibus. The leader watched surrounding properties, looking for any sign that they were being observed.
In the cellar were two grubby mattresses and the aliens were told to sit or lie down.
‘Can we get some water, please?’ asked Yol Serin.
‘Get them water,’ barked the leader, then lock them in. ‘How long will that mask last?’
‘Two or three days,’ said Ya Verolmoron, ‘but I must also be very careful what Earth foods I eat.’
‘Bring them some cans so the weird one can select something suitable,’ said the leader. ‘Let me see your face again.’
Ya Verolmoron removed the mask and the leader leaned closely in and studied the strange jaw arrangement and spongy organ between her eyes. ‘What a mess! Cover yourself, freak!’ he said and turned away.
A plastic water bottle and a carrier bag full of cans was brought in, thrown to them, the door was locked, and they were alone.
‘What sort of animals have we been captured by, Strin?’ whispered Yol Serin.
‘I don’t know, Ghal. The way they just murdered those poor soldiers. The one called Rod did nothing to them, and they just shot him in the head. Awful! Worse than animals.’
‘No care for life. Is any of that canned food okay for you?’
‘Yes. There’s a can opener, two meat cans and beans will be okay. It’s my trace gases I’m more worried about.’
‘They destroyed the communicators. We’re in deep trouble, Strin.’
««o»»
‘How the hell did that happen?’ said Yol Spence to Ya Okafor.
‘I don’t know, Jack, the bodyguards were handpicked by General Tebb,’ she replied.
‘If Michael Tebb selected them, then they were the best,’ said Yol Hood. ‘More importantly, what do we do?’
‘I can get some crack troops to the site PDQ. Do we have their location?’ asked Yol Spence, ‘We can’t lose any of your people on our watch, Ambassador.’
‘We know where they are,’ said Yol Merofort. ‘Their communicators were smashed, but all Federation citizens have a tiny chip implant. Usually they’re just for buying things and opening doors, but they can also be accessed for their location. They appear to be underground in the town of Sheladiz, north east Iraq.’
‘Let me contact our military. If we have a location, our troops will be able to get to them.’
‘You’re welcome to contact your people, Yol Spence, but it might be better if we were to deal with the problem,’ said Yol Merofort.
‘Why? What can you do that we can’t?’ asked Yol Spence.
‘We can be certain to bring them out alive and, we can capture all of the terrorists to face your legal system,’ said Yol Merofort.
‘How?’ snapped Yol Spence.
‘The “how” is not important, but we cannot carry out a rescue without your permission,’ said Ya Moroforon.
‘Well, you’ve got it! Go ahead,’ said Yol Spence.
‘We will need permission of your entire Security Council and also the Iraqi government. If we do this, it must be done properly,’ said the Ambassador.
Ya Okafor looked around at the others. ‘Anyone object to the Federation undertaking this mission?’ she asked.
All five of the permanent Security Council members gave their approval.
‘My office can get a cell phone number for Mustafa Said, the Iraqi leader,’ said Ya Okafor.
‘Speak your number into this,’ said Yol Merofort, handing over a communication device.
Ya Okafor got through to one of her assistants, obtained President Said’s number and called it.
The call was answered in Arabic and Ya Okafor used a few words of greeting she knew then asked if they could speak English.
‘Yes, Perfect, go ahead.’
She explained the circumstances and told President Said that his permission was necessary before the Federation could act.
‘Will there be civilian casualties?’ asked President Said.
‘There will not,’ said Yol Merofort.
‘How can you be sure? We must give President Said the true facts,’ said Ya Okafor.
‘The chance of casualties is extremely remote. Tell him that,’ said the Ambassador.
While the Secretary General spoke to the Iraqi President, Yol Spence asked, ‘Ambassador, how can you be certain? There could be boobytraps or anything where they’re being kept.’
‘Barring accidents, we can be certain, Yol Spence.’
‘Okay,’ said Ya Okafor, ‘Permission granted, but he wants to know when it’s happening and what’s happening.’
‘Slindo,’ said the Ambassador, ‘give them the go-ahead.’