Chapter - 1

  “Silence before the storm”

  Time - December 1986

  Place - Somewhere near the border between Libya and Chad

  The desert between Libya and Chad didn’t truly belong to either side , soldiers died to conquer lands on which the nations were built in the sand . Many men have died to conquer these sands for some people wanted to paint new maps , but the sand has remained indifferent to any man or machine in this region . The sand just devours the dead and soon flows in the air ahead .

  In 1986, the northern frontier of Chad was a quiet wound waiting to reopen.

  Occasionally a convoy passed.

  Sometimes Libyan patrols.

  Sometimes Chadian scouts.

  Sometimes men who claimed to represent the United Nations.

  Most people living in the scattered settlements did not care who the vehicles belonged to. Uniforms changed but the guns did not .

  On a rocky ridge overlooking a dry valley, several children watched the road below.A convoy of white vehicles moved slowly through the dust. It has blue markings. Foreign soldiers they are .They had arrived two days earlier, asking questions, taking notes, inspecting abandoned villages.

  Peacekeepers, they called themselves.

  The children watched from a distance.

  All except one.

  He stood slightly behind the others, holding a pair of old military binoculars.

  The binoculars were scratched and dusty , but the lenses were still clear.

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  Through them, he watched the convoy carefully as if he studied every movement .

  He is not here to watch the soldiers however , but instead the vehicles, the movements , the radio and also the markings .

  One of the younger boys whispered.

  “Are they here to stop the war?”

  The boy with the binoculars lowered them slowly , he turned around and answered - “No.”

  It is indeed an irony that peace keepers are here not to ensure peace but to stay only until it lasts

  “Then why are they here?”

  “To watch.”

  The other boys exchanged confused looks.

  “Watch what?”

  The boy turned his eyes toward the empty desert beyond the valley.

  “For when it starts.”

  He could already feel it.

  The tension was in the air .

  Supply routes had been moving north for months.

  Strange aircraft had passed overhead at night.

  Men with Libyan accents had visited villages asking questions.

  War was approaching.

  The foreigners knew it too.

  That was why they were leaving . Leaving behind the sand and their mission for peace. The convoy reached the end of the valley road and disappeared into the rising dust.

  Silence returned to the desert.

  The children stayed on the ridge long after the dust from the white convoy had disappeared. No one wanted to be the first to leave.The boy sat on a flat rock overlooking the valley road.The cracked binoculars rested in his hands.

  Far away, heat waves twisted the horizon.

  Nothing moved.

  But this silence did not last for long …

  Hours later, a sound arrived.

  Engines , Fast , Different .

  The boy climbed higher onto the rocks and looked again through the old binoculars.

  This time the vehicles were not white.

  They were pickup trucks. Light and very fast , mounted with machine guns.

  Dozens of them.

  A black-and-red flag fluttered from the lead vehicle.

  For a moment the boy simply watched as they moved quickly across the desert, bouncing over uneven ground. Men stood in the back of the vehicles holding rifles and machine guns mounted on metal frames.

  The trucks spread out as they approached the valley.

  They were not moving like a convoy.

  They were moving like hunters.

  One of the younger children whispered nervously.

  “Soldiers…”