There are hiccups

It was a promising start; as the first businessmen set up shop in reclaimed warehouses and other industrial estates throughout Liberia, container ships carrying construction equipment and materials docked at the ports of Monrovia, and with Israeli supervisors taking charge of Liberian crews, work began on a desperately needed, long overdue renovation of the city's infrastructure.

Roads, electric power stations and cables, water pipes, fibre broadband connections, and the list went on. Due to the tremendous national debt, they had to start small, their primary focus on restoring existing infrastructure.

With Aviel's connections and her humongous bank account, she could easily pay off Liberia's national debt, but she refrained, knowing it would raise too many eyebrows and make the government too reliant on her. Not that it wasn't good to indebt other parties, but she wished to lie low for the time being.

And in the countryside, educated Israeli farmers have set up shop with generous government-sponsored loans. Chicken farms, livestock barns and fields of crops are planned and marked, and trucks of farming equipment make their way towards the hastily constructed barns, ready to plant the seeds of a brighter future for Liberia.

Aviel's own connections in the IDF yielded fruitful results; hundreds of retired or impoverished veterans from Israel formed the officer corps of a new Liberian Army, molding young, green Liberians into a modern army the envy of Africa through a strict training regime. Others would form part of Aviel's de facto private army, an insurance policy in a land scarred by civil war.

Yet again, equipment was an issue, and they had to make do with what weapons were looted from the Liberian Civil War.

Nevertheless, all these measures yielded promising initial success, promising Aviel and her party success in the upcoming election.

And yet, ironically it would be this success that cast a dark shadow.

"...Say that again?" Asked Aviel.

Amos sighed, saying, "We're getting loud protests from many government officials against our measures. They say us 'nosy foreigners' are stealing jobs from the locals and disrupting their lives."

"Technically, we are causing quite a number of disruptions, but the people are already appreciating having employment and clean water, and don't have to worry about the lights going out, not to mention we're employing mostly locals and teaching them vital skills," Said Aviel, "They're just jealous of us and our resources."

"I won't deny that, but I hear from Wakeyo that they're trying to fleece some of our own party members to their side," Said Amos, "In fact, quite a number of our 'allies' are quite jealous of you stealing the spotlight."

Aviel snorted, saying, "They don't like my success, that's on them."

"Yes, except Wakeyo also said they're using bribes to gain access to looted weapons and freeing some of the imprisoned Warlords from prison," Said Amos, looking angry, "As if they don't think they'll turn on them..."

Aviel punched the wall hard, cutting her own fingers.

"Motherfucker!" She cursed.

She took a few deep breaths, pinching the bridge of her nose, then she said, "Call in Wakeyo and Tobiah now!"

The door to her office opened, and in strolled Wakeyo and an Italian-looking man in military fatigues, with long black locks of hair, brown eyes and a strong burly physique.

Tobiah Wiedenseld, born to an Italian father and Israeli mother, was one of Aviel's longest friends in the IDF and one of her superior officers before his retirement, holding the rank of Captain. Were he in America, his burly physique would easily be the envy of countless bodybuilders and wannabes.

"Aviel? What happened, we heard shouting," Said Wakeyo.

"Dumb fucks trying a dumb fucking scheme, that's what!" Aviel shouted, "Some corrupt officials are bribing to arm Warlords and turn them on us."

"Fuck me, they're acting sooner than we though," Said Wakeyo, "We just learned about this and were about to tell you."

"They're planning to strike one of the warehouses storing the equipment and materials meant for road maintenance, at Amos Avenue 2," Said the Italian man, "They hit that, we'll be set back weeks."

"Fuck them, that's my money that bought all that," Said Aviel angrily, "They don't get to waste my investment meant for the people's betterment! We know when they'll strike, Tobiah?"

"Tonight, 8pm," Said Tobiah.

"Then we're setting up an ambush," Said Aviel, "Tell our men to prepare - I'll be damned if these idiots try to put me in a coffin."