Beyond Redemption Read Free Page A

assault on the village. But Acosta had stayed by her side. He and his men escorted them to Nyala; then she was off to the refugee camps in Chad, and Acosta was off to his next assignment.
    Her next assignment was already set too. She was off to the wilds of Ecuador to work with the people impacted by the drug and arms trades on the border with Colombia. Not only did they have the cartels and FARC to worry about, but gold had been discovered in them there hills and more and more Colombians were being run off their own land as the guerillas and militias sought to fill their coffers and increase their personal wealth and power. Still, it would be a walk in the park compared to her last posting. She was testifying before the International Criminal Court on Darfur.

Chapter Two
    ICC, The Hague
    “I arrived in Darfur in 2004, after completing my residency. The violence had begun the previous year and raged, unabated, as I began my first deployment with the Helping Hands aid organization. Target populations of Sudanese militia forces, known as the Janjaweed, were the Fur, Zaghawa, and Masalit ethnic groups. As I traveled from Nyala to the camps, I encountered bombed-out villages, burned crops and food stores, wells poisoned by butchered animals and people. As a young intern, I’d seen my share of gang violence at Charity Hospital in New Orleans, but I was completely unprepared for the savagery I encountered in Sudan.
    “Prior to the expulsion of aid organizations, I was working in a field hospital established in a camp some distance north of Nyala. The camp was attacked by Janjaweed forces. We heard the screaming from inside the hospital compound, the pleas of the villagers, gunfire, cries of pain and fear, smoke from the burning of what few food stores were available. Then a truck broke through the gates and flooded the compound with militia soldiers. Women and children were dragged from their rooms.” Angelique paused for a moment, gathering herself, then continued. “Our doctors and nurses were dragged outside to bear witness. I saw babies ripped from their mother’s arms and bayoneted while the women were being raped. One of my nurses was nearly assaulted. If I hadn’t stepped between her and her would-be attacker…but the commander ordered the man to ‘kill the black slaves,’ and then he told me we were being spared so we could tell our American friends that the same would happen to them if they continued to help the people of Darfur.
    “The hospital was heavily damaged by gunfire. Drastically needed medical supplies and equipment…” Angelique took a deep breath, but there was still a quaver to her voice when she continued. “We gathered what we could. Women who had been savagely assaulted climbed to their feet and began sweeping up, setting things to right so we could help those who had been shot or mutilated with machetes.
    “I…we…were lucky because the director of our little hospital was in Nyala, and he informed some American military advisors that we were stranded with no communication and so we had no way of knowing Helping Hands had less than twenty-four hours to evacuate. The Janjaweed fled when the advisors arrived, and they helped us with the injured, set a guard, and kept us safe throughout the night. At first light, they loaded us into trucks and transported us to Nyala, where we were flown to Chad to continue our work. At the time of our departure, it is estimated that some two hundred thousand individuals had been killed, while over two million had been driven from their homes.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, I could tell you of my time in the refugee camps in Chad, but that task falls to someone else. My time in Darfur is done, and I’m moving on to another country, another crisis. Before I leave, however, I urge this court to continue to pursue arrest warrants for the men responsible for the genocide in Darfur. Justice demands it, the victims deserve it, and the world is watching. Thank