The year is 2003.

Equatorial Guinea has recently become one of Africa's larger oil producers, and its brutal

strongman dictator, who by all accounts was a massive piece of shit, Teotoro,

Obeang, Guamah, Bessago, negotiated a hard bargain with Western oil companies.

Some years previously, he had exiled Severo, a former minister in one of

his governments, to spade after disagreement. Motto considered himself a legitimate opposition in exile.

Meanwhile, in South Africa, an old Etonian ex-SAS man and private security operator Simon Mann

and Margaret Thatcher's idiot son Mark, an old

Horovian himself, were hanging out in their fancy gated Cape Town suburb, presumably

enjoying enough wealth to never have to work a day in their lives, but nevertheless,

bored stiff with a lot of other wealthy combat-hardened or just plain stupid white dudes in

their mid-50s, all

wondering together loudly if life is going to give them another spin and excitement.

Back in London, New Labor's Ireland Secretary Peter Mandelson had just been forced out of his

home for accepting a loan from a fellow minister and had moved into Lebanese, British,

Nigerian oil billionaire Ellie Khalil's

flat in Holland Park. Out of these three scenarios, a plan was hatched for 70 hard bastards

to fly from South Africa heading to Zimbabwe, where they were going to pick up weapons ordered

from Zimbabwe defense industries before carrying on to Equatorial Guinea to clear a path

to, for Severo, to come and free

the people of Equatorial Guinea

from their dictatorial ruler Obiang

...