machine

Colson Whitehead’s latest foray into the bent world of “reluctant fence” Ray Carney — “Cool Machine,” the third and final installment of his Harlem Trilogy — is an American epic disguised as a heist novel. It’s a dizzyingly brilliant measure of the versatility and depth of the acclaimed author’s literary talent.

After writing two books dealing with monstrous historical trauma and institutional abuse — “The Underground Railroad” and “The Nickel Boys,” for which he won two successive Pulitzers — Whitehead pivots to an entirely new genre, subverting it, toying with it, making it wholly his own. And while the Harlem novels, too, have a great deal to say about serious subjects such as systemic racism, corruption, and crimes and misdemeanors of various proportions, they often lean on humor to get the message across.

In fact, it’s easy to envision the author at his laptop, as exhilarated as his prose, cracking himself up over how he bends language, employs slang, and forges descriptions like this one about a bar where Carney and a partner in crime conspire over how to fence a stolen diamond necklace: “He met Flinch Wilson at the Marlin, a narrow dive on 110th and Broadway with a decor inspired by an old leather shoe that lived in a drainage pipe.” Or this about a rival who has it out for Carney and his cohorts: “Buzz struck him as a plumber, one who comes back when you aren’t home to strangle your parakeet if you stiff him on the bill.”

“Cool Machine” is set in the 1980s, and Carney is still in the picture. It’s the Reagan era, and predatory capitalism rules, as does Mayor Giuliani, who’s waged war on the mafia and the homeless. What Whitehead dubs the “churn” roils the city and his protagonist. It’s that “churn” that beckons Carney to break his promise to himself and once again divert from his legit furniture store business. The excuse this time is that his wife Elizabeth wants to open her own travel agency, and can’t get a bank loan. Despite the couple’s closeness, for all these years her husband has managed to conceal that he’s a part-time crook. He desires respectability, but savors the buzz, the camaraderie — the honor among thieves. Carney falls in with criminal mastermind Uncle Rich and signs on to his outrageous plan to break into the Waldorf Astoria; the goal is to liberate Jesse Owens’ Olympic gold medal from those who forced him to cash it in.

The intricacy with which Whitehead details the planning and execution of this caper marks him as a top-tier researcher — he’s drawn on many primary sources to ground this work of fiction in historical fact. (There’s also his obsessive use of Pinterest.) The scenes set in the bowels of Grand Central, where there’s a secret train track leading to the Waldorf, are thrilling enough to read for their action, but the atmospheric descriptions are equally delectable: “Track 23’s next departure pulled into the station. One commuter joined Carney and Uncle Rich on the platform, a deflated man in a pinstripe suit with shiny elbows, then another businessman who sagged on one side, as if his briefcase was filled with lead weights.” One of the marvels of this novel is how effortlessly such sentences land, despite being honed to perfection. It would be a spoiler to say anything further about whether the thieves’ mission impossible yields their reward.

Part two of the novel shifts downtown, into the heart of the ’80s East Village art scene. A preoccupation of Whitehead’s — Jean-Michel Basquiat — is the inspiration for a fictional graffiti artist whose omnipresent scrawls capture the pretensions of the burgeoning wheelers and dealers, who, like uptown crooks, are relentless strivers, albeit with sleeker facades. Their snobbery is juxtaposed with Carney’s friend and colleague Pepper’s unsettling bluntness and eyeball to eyeball stare. He’s on the trail of a psychopath-for-hire dubbed “the Melancholy Hitman,” while battling stomach issues that have him downing Pepto-Bismol and coughing up blood in random bathrooms. In this section, Carney plays a supporting role to Pepper’s lead; “Escape from New York” is the enveloping soundtrack.

In the novel’s final act, Carney reemerges from straight life and Pepper from retirement in Delaware to rescue Carney’s nephew, Robert, who’s on the mob’s hit list for a murder he witnessed. Political corruption is rampant, and the revelation of who’s on the take has rattled a lot of cages. Robert is unwittingly entrapped, and has absconded with something mob bigwig Lombardi wants revenge for. Carney dons his best furniture salesman hat to make the pitch of a lifetime, a deal that could save Robert’s life, or take Carney’s. As Carney drives to the meet-up, he reflects on New York’s evolution: “Crime transformed the city by degrees. He thought of what John [his son] told him about rap music, where it came from. Rap was part of the New York environment now, barging from boom boxes and windows. They created something new from the spoils, the theft of turntables from record shops, the rip-off of a musical line or riff from another song — a crooked art.”

For those who enjoy knowing how an author’s inspiration arrives, it’s amusing to note that in the case of the trilogy that kicked off in 2021 with “Harlem Shuffle,” Whitehead told the New Yorker: “I was staring off into space and thinking about how much I like heist films and how much fun it would be to write a heist.” That sounds simple enough, but “Harlem Shuffle” turned out to be years in the making. The idea initially came to him around the same time he was writing “The Underground Railroad,” which was published in 2016. It wasn’t until after the release of that book, and then “Nickel Boys,” that Whitehead decided to lighten the mood by composing a crime novel set in New York City in the 1960s. And while he usually avoids staying on the same topic or voice from book to book, in the midst of writing “Harlem Shuffle,” Whitehead found he was still imagining further escapades for his main character, this time in the 1970s, with the city on the verge of bankruptcy, and incendiary conflagrations between the NYPD and the Black Liberation Army trending. As he envisioned what would become “Crook Manifesto,” Whitehead thought: “Why not make it three?”

Carney is part poet. Part crook. Part salesman. Part philosopher. To my knowledge, Carney’s creator is neither crook nor salesman, but Whitehead can lay claim to those other two mantles. His vocabulary appears boundless, as does his apparent love for the city he grew up in, where he still lives. “Cool Machine” is a modern masterpiece and an ode to New York, no matter that rats skitter and cockroaches scamper underfoot. When Carney has the chance to move anywhere in the world he wants, he ponders the appeal of fresh air. “Fresh was nice,” he reflects, “but so was other stuff. Noise, dirt, and struggle.” After escaping Manhattan, he wonders, “Where do you go? There’s no place else. It was like going on the lam from yourself.”

Whether or not New York is your jam, or a place you have escaped from or to, Whitehead’s Harlem Trilogy is destined to live on as an American classic. Never mind the rats and cockroaches — it’s the churn.

Haber is a writer, editor and publishing strategist, and co-founder of the Ink Book Club on Substack. She was director of Oprah’s Book Club and books editor for O, the Oprah Magazine.

There is almost no landscape across the West African Sahel that cannot be accessed from the back of a motorcycle. That is why terrorists operating in the region prize them so highly. In various terror operations, motorcycles are used not only as vehicles, but as weapons, and even as a form of currency.

In April, terrorists abducted five residents from their farms in Anka, Zamfara State, in Nigeria’s North West, and demanded a ₦3.8 million ransom. After the affected families managed to raise the money and paid it, the abductors issued another demand: they were to return with motorcycles before the hostages would be released. 

“They told the families that they would kill the victims if they did not bring a motorcycle,” Ciroma Ade* said. He was tasked with travelling to parts of Sokoto, or somewhere else, to buy the motorcycles and deliver them to a location that would be communicated to him later, in his experience, usually around Gurusu Forest between Anka and Gusau. 

It was not the first time he had made the run. Over time, he unintentionally became a ‘middleman’ in the motorcycle ransom economy. He was also one of its victims. In 2024, he bought motorcycles to secure the release of many of his relatives. Buying a ransom vehicle is never straightforward because the region is now more conscious of its purchase, and many vendors will no longer sell the vehicle in that part of the country. 

Sometimes the terrorists arrange for an anonymous ‘middleman’ to travel far, often to the trading hubs in Kano, to source motorcycles on their behalf. Ciroma has his own networks. He knows which traders to approach in Sokoto or Zuru, in Kebbi State, despite the growing difficulty of buying the machines. 

Over the years, he has repeatedly relied on those contacts to secure abducted villagers, including many of his relatives. Once the motorcycles were purchased, the terrorists would arrange a meeting point for delivery. He did the same this time. Most of the time, the hostages returned alive. The terrorists appeared to understand the continuing value of keeping captives alive; they were useful leverage for future negotiations. 

This time was different. The victims were killed anyway.

An emerging trend has taken hold across parts of northern Nigeria. Terrorists have created a self-sustaining system in which motorcycles have become a form of ransom. Each abduction helps replenish the very machines used to carry out the next one. The motorcycle has become both the means of violence and its reward.

HumAngle learned that terrorists in the region frequently use commercially available motorcycles, especially Honda models, for their durability, availability, and suitability for rough terrain. They ride them into battle, use them to swarm a target, and conduct large-scale operations like mass abductions. 

Ciroma, for one, knows this too. As one of the reluctant middlemen who helped bring ransom motorcycles into the system, he believes his community has become both a source of motorcycles for terrorists and one of the least safe places in the country.

While researching how motorcycles have become inseparable from conflict in the Sahel, I could not find many stories that told the tales of war from the motorcycle’s perspective. Almost every day brings reports of non-state armed groups using motorcycles to attack villages, ambush troops, abduct civilians, or simply move from one place to another. Yet the motorcycle itself rarely occupies the centre of those stories. 

Conflict reporting understandably focuses on bloodshed, casualties, military operations, and the growing sophistication of insurgents’ weaponry. Compared with assault rifles, rocket launchers, or improvised explosive devices, motorcycles appear almost mundane. But this overlooks one of the constants of modern insurgency.

Across Nigeria’s conflict theatres, and much of the wider Sahel, the motorcycle is present regardless of the group, geography, or operation. It functions simultaneously as a transport, a logistics platform, an escape vehicle, and a weapon. There should be a literature that treats it as the protagonist rather than merely part of the scenery.

This is what we are attempting to do. 

Ciroma had just returned from the cemetery, where he and other villagers buried five people killed by the terrorists, when he heard that a journalist wanted to know about the motorcycle ransom economy. He spoke passionately about the suffering of his community. 

During his final assignment, he deliberately delayed delivering the motorcycles until every option had been exhausted. After the victims were killed, he sold the motorcycles and distributed the proceeds back to their families. 

As he told members of his community, he wanted nothing more to do with the “thieves”, including playing a part in the supply chain that sustained them.

If soldiers were willing to follow the motorcycle tracks into the forests, he said, he would guide them himself. He knew the routes. He knew the delivery points. Together with the local vigilantes, they could reach the camps where he had previously delivered motorcycles. “They could clear the thieves out,” he said. 

The rider 

Back in Abuja, I needed more perspective if I was going to write this story. 

I left my estate and approached a commercial motorcyclist waiting by the roadside. He eyed me suspiciously. He wanted no association with terrorists, even if it meant nothing more than answering a journalist’s questions.

Standing nearby was another rider, Musa Abba. He waved me over, introduced himself, and agreed to speak, but only off camera. I asked him what it felt like to ride his bike every day. 

“There is no place I cannot reach with this machine,” he said. 

Musa trusts his motorcycle more than anything else. He kicked the engine to life and gestured for me to climb on. He had decided the interview would be better conducted while we were moving.

As I settled in behind him, my thoughts drifted, not to motorcycles, but to horses. I found myself thinking about how civilisations across the ancient world discovered the extraordinary power of a mounted rider. Horses became indispensable: first for farming and transport, then, most significantly, for war. They were the all-important multipurpose machines of their age.

They could hardly have imagined that one day a two-wheeled machine would replicate the power of a cavalry many times over. Perhaps they wondered about it. Back then, even with other machines of war, such as the horse-drawn cart, the camel caravan, and eventually some mechanised infantry, the role of the rider in battle remained central.

Motorcycles have inherited that role.

Some recent research has begun to recognise this. Analysts have documented the emergence of a ransom economy in which insurgents increasingly demanded motorcycles instead of cash. Communities are taxed to replace bikes lost during military operations. The most in-depth literature was compiled by the Global Initiative, an international think tank that interviewed people across the West African Sahel and found that motorcycles were stolen and trafficked over the years to sustain transnational criminal operations in Mali, Niger, Burkina Faso, and the Republic of Benin.

Not much was said about Nigeria in the report. However, the Nigerian Army has, in press statements, documented the seizure of thousands of motorcycles in counterinsurgency operations in Nigeria. Beyond those records, evidence also lies along the routes connecting illicit smuggling and trafficking hubs, with networks tracing back to the organised trans-Saharan trade from the 8th to the 16th centuries. Today, those same corridors still carry motorcycles used for smuggling and for slipping along clandestine routes that let riders avoid conventional roads and border checkpoints.

The motorcycle is now so woven into life across West Africa, the Sahel, and the Lake Chad Basin that the mobility it provides sustains entire communities, and many people in the lower and middle classes cannot imagine life without it.

As we continued the ride, Abba said, “When it is time to work, the only road I cannot enter is a place I am not allowed to work.” 

The war machine

How does a bike measure up to the cavalry? Scottish engineer James Watt coined the term ‘horsepower’ in the late 18th century, defining one horsepower as the daily output of a strong working horse. In reality, a horse sustains only about half that output over the course of a day. 

I wondered whether the rider ever feels limited by terrain, and what it must feel like to have such command of the road. 

“Surely you cannot climb rocks with it,” I said in Hausa, pointing at a hill we were riding past. “There is no place I cannot reach with this machine,” he repeated over the soft rush of wind. “Wannan karfe ne,” he continued. This is metal. 

His Hausa made the argument sound more emphatic.

“It is not like rubber-rubber,” he went on, referring to the flashier plastic-bodied motorcycles. “A bike like this,” he said, gesturing at his motorcycle, “is the most durable of them all. You don’t need to maintain it much, and it doesn’t consume as much fuel as most other brands. You can change the oil just once in a while if you like. It can go anywhere, enter almost anywhere, and its second-hand value is even better than rubber-rubber [brands].”

Abba went on and on about what makes a motorcycle valuable in everyday life, and in doing so, he laid out exactly what makes it valuable to a terrorist across the conflict zones of Nigeria.

Measured by sustained power output, a Honda CG125 delivers roughly the equivalent of about 16 working horses. By that measure, a single terrorist on a motorcycle is riding with the power of about 16 horses at a time. 

What we found

Over months of work, we built a database by measuring hundreds of military operations conducted over the past decade, logging every reported incident of motorcycle seizure and the count attached to it. Between February 2015 and November 2025, the Nigerian Army reportedly seized at least 2,607 motorcycles across 300 separate encounters. Taken together, this aggregated press data describes the logistical philosophy of the terror groups that the troops fight. 

The seizure records also reveal distinct phases. At various points, different armed groups appear to have dominated motorcycle use, and there were periods when almost every operation reported by the military involved recovering bikes. Yet the headline figure of 2,607 motorcycles over ten years tells only part of the story.

In the early years of military engagement in the insurgency, the totals were driven by a handful of major discoveries, followed by long runs of tens of operations, each yielding only a single vehicle. These recoveries were not sustained by patrol pressure; they came when a campaign stumbled on a cache. 

Over time, however, the army evolved its tactics. It pushed deeper into the terror enclaves in the forests, adopting specialised strategies, including the so-called strangulation strategy of the late 2010s, which was designed to starve the groups of the fuel and resources that kept their motorcycles running, and in many ways they set up the clearance operations that produced the few thousand vehicles in the record.

The earliest phase of this campaign against the motorcycle is unclear in the data. In late 2015 and 2016, at the peak of the Boko Haram insurgency, motorcycles were still being treated as secondary characters in the war. At the time, Boko Haram could field a 15-gun-truck convoy against a Forward Operating Base in Borno, sustain multi-wave assaults with machine guns and specialised Type-36 hand grenades in a single engagement, and then publish videos of the attack to showcase its strength and firepower.

Counterinsurgency reports from the period mention motorcycles only in passing. The focus was on weapons recovered, fighters neutralised, and territories retaken. But the bikes grew more prominent as larger caches began to appear in the record around 2017. Most seizure events still involved a single motorcycle, but occasionally the numbers jumped to a few or to a large cache, almost always the product of a one-off encounter or an ambush on a terrorist base. 

As the military expanded its operations deeper into the forest to dislodge the groups, recoveries increased, especially in the northeastern region. I designate this as the first of two eras of riders, as the aggregated data reveal the core role of motorcycles in the wars.

The era of riders

On Feb. 17, 2016, soldiers of the 7 Division Garrison, on a clearance mission, entered Gulumba in Bama Local Government Area in Borno State. They found what they described as a small city where they had expected a makeshift camp. Inside were medical supplies stored in a field hospital, a sizable market, two logistics trucks, a grinding machine, and an industrial 100KVA Mikano generator. The most important find, though, was the transport garage of 180 motorcycles and 750 bicycles. In a single operation, at least 930 potential combatants were denied transport that day.

The period between 2016 and 2017 belonged to Boko Haram’s riders. Operation Lafiya Dole, a counterinsurgency operation of the Nigerian government, alone accounts for 57 per cent of all seizures in the dataset, with 1,792 motorcycles across 96 records, almost all recovered during camp-clearance operations in Borno. That works out to an average of 19.7 motorcycles per recorded operation. 

Viewed over the full 2015–2025 period, the distribution of motorcycle seizures tells the story of two distinct conflicts. The first peaks in 2016; the second begins to emerge after 2022. 

The defining year is 2016. Alone, it accounts for almost half of all motorcycles recorded in the dataset: roughly 1,300 bikes recovered across just 86 records, an average of 17 per record, far above any other year. This was the peak of Operation Lafiya Dole’s deepest push into Boko Haram’s territorial strongholds in Borno, where large-scale camp clearances dismantled the insurgency’s mobile logistics in bulk. 

The pattern continued into 2017. Although the database contains only 10 records for that year, it accounts for 331 bikes, carried almost entirely by a single cache of 301 bikes recovered at Njibulwa, an insurgent enclave in Borno State.

After that, the numbers collapsed. Between 2018 and 2022, annual recoveries averaged just 49 motorcycles. 

The second era of riders

Then there was another uptick in 2023, but it is a different case from 2016. This time, the centre of gravity shifted westwards. Kaduna led the increase, accounting for 88 recovered motorcycles, mostly linked in military reports to “terrorists”. The change reflected the growing prominence of motorcycle-riding armed groups in north-western Nigeria from around 2020 onwards.

Unlike the Boko Haram years, recoveries were no longer dominated by massive camp clearances. Instead, the database settles into a consistent pattern of around five to eight motorcycles per record, with a steady climb. The groups they were recovered from were labelled by the security forces as “bandits”, not Boko Haram. 

After 2022, the number of seizure records rose sharply, even as the number of motorcycles recovered in each operation remained relatively low. Instead of discovering large transport depots, security forces were finding motorcycles in small clusters during repeated engagements. Operation Shaaran Daji became the leading source of recoveries in the northwestern region, signalling that the motorcycle had become embedded not in large insurgent camps but in dispersed, highly mobile armed networks. 

The informal motorcycle networks through the Sahel

There are dirt roads in the desert that cross international borders and run through the Sahel’s sands, following routes that have connected communities for centuries. Many trace the arteries of the trans-Saharan trade, linking illicit hubs of smuggling and trafficking through networks first established hundreds of years ago. These pathways did not disappear as modern states emerged across the Sahel. Instead, they evolved alongside them. Most still exist today, at least as part of a broader web of formal and informal routes connecting contemporary roads to historical trading corridors that continue to facilitate cross-border movement.

Consider the recent ruins of Metele, which is comparatively recent than the historical networks, a Borno town brought down to rubble by the Boko Haram insurgency and abandoned for years, and crumbling into building blocks. After a decade of silence, the one thing that has only grown more visible is the roads, and in particular the ones made by motorcycle tracks. These have deepened with continued use, suggesting activities likely by insurgents operating in the area. 

Metele and hundreds of villages in northern Borno around it have been abandoned, leaving only insurgent camps and military bases that occasionally clash in the parts where these routes link them. Yet the old roads have only grown deeper, and new paths have opened across the empty ground, as seen in the satellite imagery below.

Let’s follow the Metele tracks eastward and see where it leads. It runs for about eight kilometres of the bike route, crossing onto the shore of an island in Lake Chad, and continuing from there across the flat terrain of the island, with many sub-tracks splitting off toward different corners, while the main track presses on east, along the shore and onto a much larger island with road networks also branching off on every side and onto other islands. We stop here because this island matters for a particular reason. Among its thousands of tracks sits a largely isolated compound in the island’s north.

In May 2026, US forces, working with Nigerian Army intelligence, carried out an airstrike on that compound and killed a senior ISWAP commander, Abu Bilal Al-Minuki. The site was geolocated using video of the strike released by United States Africa Command (AFRICOM). 

Al-Minuki served as a liaison between ISWAP’s various commands across the Lake Chad Basin and the wider Islamic State organisation. Different factions of the group operate on multiple fronts, with administrative functions carried out in locations such as this island. Senior commanders often gathered in secluded places like these, whether in forest compounds in Sambisa or in camps scattered across the islands of Lake Chad.

When fighters enter Nigeria, they may arrive by boat from neighbouring islands, or blend in with ordinary travellers using the road network. Once inside the theatre of conflict, however, the motorcycle becomes the preferred means of movement. It allows commanders to visit training camps, inspect fighters on different fronts, and travel rapidly between operational bases.

These tracks travel far and wide, meeting at certain points across the Sahel. They run north into Lake Chad, or northwest toward the Niger Republic. Cross-border routes make neighbouring communities, places like Diffa in Niger, feel as close as the other side of the street. The motorcycle gives its riders command at border crossings, and they hardly worry about checkpoints on official roads unless they intend to attack the location and run into state forces on either side. 

Here, the border itself counts for far less. This indistinguishable, landlocked frontier has been reshaped by centuries of informal movement, by daily life that transcends the very idea of nationality. These places have long borne the brunt of regional security forces unable to fully command the area, and in a geography this vast, with so many options and pathways, smuggling and trafficking are barely a challenge.

The network of informal motorcycle routes is still more intricate. Some lead into the ruins of the hundreds of villages, like Metele, abandoned across the area. The ruins of Metele is within 50 kilometres of the nearest fringe of communities where people still live. The tracks also connect to minor and major roads leading to inhabited areas, giving the motorcycles access for incursions. 

Eventually, these routes connect to every community in the region. Across the flatlands of Metele and Lake Chad through the desert of the border country, the motorcycle is highly effective, and this is why it is such a powerful weapon in the typical insurgent arsenal, despite the secondary attention it tends to receive next to the AK-47s and rocket launchers recovered alongside it in a raid.

The forest route 

You will rarely hear about motorcycle–riding terrorists being caught at a military checkpoint, on their way to an operation or simply travelling. For anyone who knows the terrain, there is often no need to cross a major road on most journeys in the region. 

The forests of Sambisa, Kyumbana, Mando, and the Mandara Mountains welcome the tyres of the war machine. HumAngle has previously reported on fighters travelling, moving, even migrating to another state through the interconnected, ungoverned forest reserves of the region, which give them multi-state reach and the ability to turn up in almost any part of the country.

Once through the forests and the mountain wilderness of the northeastern region, riders reach the other end of the country, though not necessarily in one go. They drop down now and then onto the main road, sometimes to refuel; there are reports of the military intercepting them and warning filling stations not to serve them. They settle for a while in certain towns, or in camps near towns, using the towns as supply bases before picking up the trail back into the wilderness and on toward their destination. 

The machines are useful throughout the journey, should they wish to travel from the northeast to the northwest. In 2022, HumAngle reported how fighters from the forests of the northwestern region, such as the Birnin Gwari and Kamuku forests, often travel through towns, stopping at communities where they are repeatedly reported to assault local residents, particularly women, often sexually, before continuing toward an operation elsewhere. The very sight of them on their bikes has already terrified those communities into compliance with whatever they demand. It has become a kind of tradition in Kaduna, in Niger, and even in Kwara State when these riders come into town.

From this end, too, groups like the Lakurawa have been reported riding into Nigeria. Locals often describe them as Arab-looking non-Nigerians entering through the porous borders in the northwest, and a similar pattern is evident along the Lake Chad Basin on the other side of the north. Recent reporting has confirmed the group as a faction of the Islamic State operating in West Africa, and in Nigeria in particular. 

They move through the Sahara along a network of ancient routes and illicit hubs where trafficking and underground resources are available to anyone on the road. This underworld of hubs and crossings is what lets riders pass between countries.

The Sahel underworld

When the collapse of Muammar Gaddafi’s regime released Libya’s vast weapons stockpiles into the region, it was this same illicit Sahelian underworld that carried many of those weapons into West Africa, including Nigeria.

Before he was killed, the terrorist kingpin Halilu Sububu was reported to ride with his gang across this terrain, loaded with gold sourced from the artisanal mining pits they controlled, and to return to Nigeria with weapons traded for that gold. Those weapons became the lifeblood of banditry in the country’s northwestern region and made Sububu the chief arms supplier to the various groups there. 

His advantage was not simply access to weapons, but access to the routes. He reportedly knew how to travel to the Sahel and return with arms without significant interference. His command of the motorcycle corridors enabled his network to move across borders with relative ease. The same routes connected him to weapons originating from the post-2011 Libyan arms outflow, and even allowed combat vehicles acquired by his organisation to be delivered through the network.

Critical transit and logistics networks span multiple border regions across the Sahel and West Africa, including the Burkina Faso–Côte d’Ivoire border, the Côte d’Ivoire–Mali–Burkina Faso tri-border area, and the Ghana–Burkina Faso frontier, where Hamile, Tumu, and Bawku serve as key crossing points. Further north, Ansongo in Mali, Arlit and Agadez in Niger, and numerous settlements across the Mali–Niger–Burkina Faso tri-border region function as centres for acquiring, consolidating, and redistributing illicit resources.

Perhaps the most famous network that leads into northern Nigeria is the one from Libya. It crosses through illicit hubs and artisanal mining sites, most of which are controlled by armed groups. The network of arms smuggling runs from Libya, usually from the desert oasis of Sabha; the journey flows through Fazzan in southern Libya and crosses the infamous Salvador Pass into the Republic of Niger, where illicit hubs and mining networks link to Sokoto, Borno and Zamfara states, connecting through Niger Republic routes from Agadez, Maradi, Tahoua, following ancient trade routes that continue to shape movement today.

These hubs share a profile of remote geography, thin state presence, weak governance, and established illicit trade networks that move goods and people across borders.

Motorcycles rule in this terrain.

Of middlemen and motorcycle bans 

We met another middleman, Abu Dogara*. Unlike Ciroma, he was not interested in sharing his experience, as his job still leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He answered mostly with short replies, with the occasional long clarification about the details of his involvement in the motorcycle ransom economy. 

Earlier, we talked about the middlemen: the mostly anonymous intermediaries who know how to secure the motorcycle for victims’ families when all other options are lost. Abu was a middleman, at least until terrorists abducted his sister-in-law. He wanted me to understand that the last time he was on the job, he had not dealt with the terrorists himself. They had taken his younger brother’s wife, so it was his brother who spoke to them. He had played the same role as always, travelling to buy the motorcycles.

As awareness of the terrorists’ reliance on motorcycles has grown, buying one anywhere near the axis has become increasingly difficult. Most of the people we spoke to about sourcing a ransom vehicle named far-off places like Kano, Kebbi, and even Lagos. This is part of what has driven the rise of the anonymous middleman, sometimes known to the kidnappers, and sometimes hired by the victim’s family. 

Abu travelled to Sokoto to buy the bikes. He searched and found nothing. An issue he hadn’t faced before. But finally, he met a vendor with a single one in stock, a Honda, exactly the kind the kidnappers wanted. The vendor let him have his last one, but warned that they were getting harder and harder to find in the area.

Across northern Nigeria, state governments have introduced strict motorcycle bans and usage restrictions to counter-terrorism and “banditry”. Niger State went so far as to ban motorcycle sales outright, specifically targeting high-capacity models such as Hondas, which are frequently demanded as ransom. Elsewhere, the measures range from outright commercial bans to localised movement restrictions, all intended to disrupt terrorist logistics. Katsina and Zamfara states have also introduced night-time curfews and complete movement bans in forested areas.

Abu does not like to dwell on the last job. He remembers only that the motorcycle cost more than ₦2 million, and that finding it was painfully difficult. At one point, he even asked his brother to persuade the kidnappers to accept cash instead. They refused. In the end, the Honda he bought in Sokoto secured his sister-in-law’s freedom. 

In Kano and Kebbi, the approach moved away from banning sales altogether, focusing instead on restricting how the bikes can be ridden to stop criminals from using them for quick getaways and remote logistics. Many sources we spoke with named Kano, Kebbi (Zuru), and Sokoto as sources for the machines, with Kano and Kebbi most consistently described as the last resort.

The machine they cannot beat 

To replace the motorcycles seized by the troops, terrorist groups tax the very communities near where those seizures take place. In one incident, terrorists taxed a community that had narrowly escaped a planned terror attack, saved only because soldiers happened to be in the village at the time. In another, one kingpin abducted a district head and party chieftain in a village in Zamfara, saying that his confiscated motorcycles were the reason for his actions, and he must be compensated.  

The military, meanwhile, has continued its effort to take this logistics core out of play. Beyond the strangulation strategy and the more than 2,600 confiscated motorcycles, different state security forces have also made a show of their counter-insurgency, such as setting whole sets of captured bikes ablaze to send a message, and recording large-scale successes in neutralising entire gangs and seizing hundreds of machines at a time. The groups have only pushed back harder, embedding motorcycles into ransom negotiations to secure both the financing and the means to replace whatever war machines they lose.

Across much of Nigeria’s North, attacks launched from the back of a motorcycle are becoming more common. The country is still dealing with motorcycle-facilitated crises at both extremes. It is the one insurgent tactic the Nigerian security forces have not been able to beat. Not with trenches on the battle fronts of the northeastern region, nor in the communities across the country where these raids have become a regular part of recent reporting.

The Nigerian Army has itself adopted motorcycles for parts of the same war. Boko Haram deserters recruited to support counterinsurgency operations ride ahead of advancing troops on motorcycles, scouting for ambushes, improvised explosive devices, and landmines. The machine has become indispensable to both sides.

For many survivors, the sound of a motorcycle engine will always bring up the worst of their memories.

The names of the middlemen have been changed to protect their identities.

One of Russia’s commercially flagged vessels in the Baltic has appeared armed with heavy machine guns, and it isn’t just any cargo hauler. The weapons fit is likely intended to provide close-in protection against naval drone attacks but is also evidence of increasingly bold measures taken by Moscow to ensure that military bases in its strategically important Kaliningrad exclave continue to be supported. After all, the ship in question, the Marshal Vasilevskiy, is a highly strategic one — Russia’s only floating storage and regasification vessel — that plays a key role in supporting Kaliningrad.

This comes at the same time that Russia ramps up efforts to protect its notorious ‘shadow fleet,’ used to circumvent Western sanctions on oil exports, despite efforts to interdict it.

Evidence of the armed tanker development was brought to light in an exclusive report from Holger Roonemaa, an investigative journalist working for Delfi Estonia, an Estonia-based news website.

Roonemaa secured the release of imagery from the Estonian Border Guard showing the Marshal Vasilevskiy operating in the Baltic Sea last month, with machine gun positions on either side of the deck above the bridge.

The Marshal Vasilevskiy, a 945-foot liquefied natural gas (LNG) tanker of 118,000 gross tonnage, was spotted by an Estonian Border Guard surveillance aircraft as it was sailing past Estonia’s western islands toward the Russian port of Bolshoi Bor in the Gulf of Finland.

The sandbagged gun positions were armed with 12.7mm Kord heavy machine guns, a belt-fed weapon that is used by infantry, as well as being mounted on vehicles and ships.

KORD Heavy Machine Gun

The Marshal Vasilevskiy is not a part of the shadow fleet, but it has been subject to sanctions. Moreover, this appears to be the first direct evidence of Russia installing weapons on a civilian ship in the Baltic region.

The vessel is owned by the Gazprom company and regularly supplies Kaliningrad with natural gas, with four such voyages identified since last August.

Almost certainly, the guns on the Marshal Vasilevskiy are intended to help defend against Ukrainian drone attacks.

The Kord fires at a rate of 600-650 rounds per minute and has an effective range of around 2,000 yards.

Earlier this month, Ukraine used aerial drones to attack the prestigious Russian Navy base at Kronstadt, near St. Petersburg, in what appears to have been the first strike of its kind against the Baltic Fleet.

By targeting Kronstadt, Ukraine signaled the opening up of a new front in its drone war with Russia, namely against the Baltic Fleet while it is in port.

Previously, Ukraine’s naval campaign had focused overwhelmingly on the Russian Black Sea Fleet. Many successful attacks have been recorded against Black Sea Fleet vessels and facilities, forcing the general evacuation of Russian naval assets from occupied Crimea and to bases in Russia proper. Ukrainian attacks on Russian-linked shipping have also extended, to a more limited extent, into the Mediterranean.

These attacks have also involved a growing and increasingly advanced array of uncrewed surface vessels (USVs, or ‘drone boats’) as well as uncrewed underwater vessels (UUVs).

Ukraine’s proven ability to launch long-range aerial drone attacks, as seen in the video below, as well as to bring kamikaze drones closer to Russian targets, and strike them from short range, underscores the potential vulnerability of Russian tankers working the Baltic, too.

While Ukraine, as far as is known, has not launched any USV or UUV attacks in the Baltic, it would certainly be within its capabilities to do so.

At the same time, Russia has no doubt also considered the possibility of an Operation Spiderweb-type attack in the Baltic, in which short-range drones could be launched covertly, in mass, from locations much closer to their targets.

In the same way that Operation Spiderweb used commercial trucks as covert launch platforms for one-way aerial attack drones, any suitable vessel could be used in the same way by Ukraine in the Baltic, whether to launch aerial drones, USVs, or UUVs.

In this context, the Marshal Vasilevskiy would be a particularly prized tanker. It is currently Russia’s only floating storage and regasification vessel, a ship that takes on board super-cooled LNG and then converts it into gas that is then fed into pipelines, in this case, in Kaliningrad.

As well as countering potential drone attacks, putting guns on the Marshal Vasilevskiy sends a signal to NATO forces not to interfere with it. Warning shots could be fired to send a message to boarding parties or helicopters. Russia’s willingness to use warning shots was demonstrated in the English Channel earlier this month. With the Kord gun, the vessel could bring down a helicopter with ease, forcing a boarding force to kinetically attack the ship before attempting boarding.

Typically, the crew of a vessel such as the Marshal Vasilevskiy would not be trained to operate heavy machine guns. This raises the likelihood that the ship’s crew includes members of the Russian military or, more likely, the Federal Security Service (FSB), Russia’s principal security agency. It is not inconceivable that man-portable air defense systems (MANPADS) could also be stowed below decks to defend against an aerial drone attack.

The development comes as Russia takes increasingly forceful measures to protect the vessels of its shadow fleet. These provide Russia with a critical lifeline, allowing oil to be sold and funds generated to continue the country’s war against Ukraine. Both China and India regularly accept such deliveries.

Over the past year, European authorities have intercepted shadow fleet tankers on several occasions, typically on the grounds of flying a false flag or for being suspected of damaging undersea cables.

There have been previous reports indicating that shadow-fleet oil tankers regularly include former mercenaries and soldiers among their crews.

Holger Roonemaa has helped establish that almost half of the “passengers” listed as going aboard the Marshal Vasilevskiy also have backgrounds in the Russian military, the National Guard, and/or the FSB.

At the same time, Russian Navy warships are increasingly used for escort, monitoring, and security missions for shadow fleet tankers as they transit the Baltic Sea carrying sanctioned Russian oil to markets prepared to bypass Western restrictions. You can read more about this here.

Returning to this vessel, the appearance of heavy machine guns on it is significant because it illustrates Russia’s militarization of civilian shipping supporting critical operations. There are many historical precedents of merchant vessels being armed during wartime, but it remains unusual to see a commercially flagged tanker openly carrying heavy machine guns in this region. In areas with piracy, it is not uncommon for security crews on vessels to be equipped with small arms, but this is a different kind of weapon, and the ship is operating in waters with no piracy risk attached.

In practical terms, a pair of Kord machine guns could be effective against small drones or boats at close range, but would offer little protection against larger, coordinated attacks, let alone modern anti-ship missiles.

With that in mind, it’s possible Russia might further boost the weapons fit of the Marshal Vasilevskiy to provide a more comprehensive defense. After all, this vessel is a critical asset, due to its unique capabilities in the Russian merchant fleet, and its special role supporting Kaliningrad. This makes it a strategic vulnerability that demands protection. If lost, it could have an asymmetric impact, threatening the ability to keep military assets in the exclave operational.

More broadly, this is evidence of Russia’s growing concern that logistics vessels, including civilian ones supporting critical infrastructure, could become targets in the Baltic region, too, as the war increasingly extends beyond traditional battlefields and further from Ukraine.

Contact the author: thomas@thewarzone.com

I FEEL like Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story, not something I thought I’d ever say as a 25-year-old British woman.

No, I’m not wearing a spacesuit and nor am I made of plastic – I’m stood playing the world’s largest claw arcade machine, with toys up for grabs that are the size of your average pre-school kid. 

Butlin’s have built the machine at their Bognor Regis resort, at 6.8m long and 3.9m high, they claim it’s the size of a small house and it’s open all summer.

Having stood inside it, I can safely say it’s about the same size as my London flat – the claw is so big that it could fit around my head.

Shortly after they cut the ribbon this morning, it was officially crowned by the Guinness Book Of World Records as the world’s largest claw machine and incredibly, it only costs £1 to play. 

What can you get for a quid these days? A quick scan of the Sainsbury’s website reveals you can get a bar of Dairy Milk  – but here in Butlin’s Bognor, it could get you a 3-foot plushie. 

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And that’s a genuine possibility. This isn’t your average claw machine designed to send your blood pressure rising with the odds stacked against you. 

It’s super easy to play on with one lever and one button like a usual claw machine just ten times the size. Just bash the button above the toy you want and see if you can get it.

While I tried three times to bag a prize and failed, in the first ten minutes of it opening, I watched a redcoat win a massive Simba from the Lion King and a 4-year-old girl land a huge dog (assisted by her dad). 

Everything is super-sized, from the drop button that’s the size of my hand to the giant orb-like joystick. I practically got a neckache from watching the claw up close. 

The huge machine is full of huge stuffed teddies, ranging from Labubu-style dolls, to Minecraft characters and Winnie The Pooh. 

Plus, many of the toys have Butlin’s lanyards around their necks, with envelopes containing vouchers of varying amounts that can redeemed against anything from food to experiences around the resort. 

For a quid, this must pretty much be a lossmaker for Butlin’s, who could easily charge a fiver upwards for an arcade game of this size. 

But that’s not why they’re doing it. The machine will be onsite for the whole summer as part of their 90th anniversary celebrations and a Butlin’s insider told me it’s just part of the experience they like to offer at their resorts. 

They told me: “This is more of a fun thing for guests, we’re the home of entertainment and everything we do ladders up to that. 

“Whether it’s our pools, shows, the fairground… we just found an opportunity to do something really fun and big. It’s not a money driver, it just goes to that value for money proposition we offer. 

“If you’re a four year old and walk past the machine and see the scale of it, you’re going to want to have a go and parents won’t mind dipping into their pocket for a pound for them to have a go. 

“Because the experience is exciting as well – even if you don’t win, you still have the excitement of doing something of that size and scale.” 

As the first person to play, I was also allowed inside the machine for a sneaky pic and felt like a real-life Buzz Lightyear when he landed among the Little Green Men in the claw machine at Alien Planet during Toy Story 1.

The new experience can be found inside the Skyline Pavilion where you’ll of course find a number of other claw machines – albeit much smaller. 

The machine measures 66.31 cubic metres, and the previous record holder for the world’s largest claw machine was in the Philippines and measured 49.9 cubic metres.

A team of seven people assembled the machine over four days and it weighs around 2.3 tonnes in total. 

Joanne Brent, Official Guinness World Records™ adjudicator, said: “Following a full adjudication loop process, we’re delighted to confirm that Butlin’s has officially claimed a new Guinness World Records™ title for the Largest Claw Machine.

“The machine comfortably surpasses the previous record and demonstrates the scale, ambition and creativity required to achieve a Guinness World Records™ title. As Butlin’s marks its 90th anniversary, we’re pleased to officially recognise this achievement and welcome the company as the new record holder.”

For a pound ago, it’s one of the cheapest experiences at a resort too. 

As a Gen Z adult and can safely say I had as much fun as a four year old winning a giant dog. 

U.S. Special Operations Command (SOCOM) is about to kick off the search for what it is calling a Flyweight Assault Machine Gun (FAMG). This will be a new 5.56x45mm caliber belt-fed machine gun to succeed the Mk 46, a lightweight special operations-specific cousin of the M249 Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW).

Lt. Col. Alan Wood, SOCOM’s Program Manager for Special Operations Forces (SOF) Lethality, touched on the FAMG briefly in an exclusive interview with TWZ‘s Howard Altman during the annual SOF Week conference last week. Readers can find the bulk of the interview here.

There are “three separate machine gun programs within SOCOM: Lightweight Machine Gun-Medium, Light Machine Gun-Assault, and soon to be FAMG, which is the Flyweight Assault Machine Gun,” Wood explained. “The Medium is your .338 [Norma Magnum], the Assault is your 7.62 NATO [7.62x51mm], and then the FAMG is a 5.56[mm]. All belt-fed machine guns.”

We subsequently reached out to SOCOM for more information about the FAMG, an effort that does not appear to have been previously disclosed.

“The Flyweight Assault Machine Gun (FAMG) will be a 5.56mm belt fed weapon that will replace the MK46 Light Machine Gun,” a spokesperson for the command told us. “Details on the requirement will be published on SAM.gov in the near future.”

While we do not know yet what SOCOM is looking for specifically in the FAMG, beyond its caliber, we do know what the command wants to replace. The Mk 46 traces back to the early years of the Global War on Terror. It is based on the M249 SAW, which is itself a version of the Minimi light machine gun from Belgian gunmaker FN (and later its American subsidiaries).

FN had initially developed what it called the Special Purpose Weapon (SPW), a significantly lightened version of the Minimi with a shortened barrel that also had a thinner profile. The gun, which was marketed heavily toward special operations forces, featured the collapsing stock that had already been used on short-barreled ‘paratrooper’ versions of the Minimi and the M249, as well.

The standard Minimi design also has a secondary magazine well that allows it to fire ammunition from NATO-standard box magazines like the ones used with AR-15/M16-series rifles, as well as belts. This feature was carried over to the M249. It was omitted on the SPW to further cut weight.

The baseline Mk 46 Mod 0 was a direct evolution of the SPW concept. It most notably used the polymer buttstock found on standard Minimi and M249 light machine guns, which is fixed in length, but also lighter than the collapsing paratrooper type. It also came with a new handguard with rails on four sides for optics, laser aiming devices, lights, and other accessories. The handguard design is very tall on the top side to bring it in line with an additional rail on the gun’s top cover.

An improved Mk 46 Mod 1 variant was subsequently developed, which “incorporates improved receiver pins, a feed tray with retention pawls and a vented hand guard with improved heat shield and three MIL-STD-1913 rails,” according to the entry on FN America’s website at the time of writing. “The MK 46 MOD 1’s cold hammer-forged MIL-SPEC barrel has a hard-chromed bore for longer life and improved accuracy, and serves as the mounting point for the carry handle.”

To make a more direct comparison, the Mk 46 Mod 1, with its 16.3-inch barrel, weighs just under 15-and-a-half pounds empty with no accessories, per FN America. The version it shows on its website currently does also has a more traditional handguard configuration. A current-generation M249 with a full-length 20-and-a-half-inch barrel tips the scales at 17 pounds without any ammunition, optics, or other attachments.

After years of the U.S. military, including SOCOM, increasingly moving away from 5.56x45mm in favor of calibers that offer longer reach, for rifles and machine guns, there is something of a question as to why the command is now pursuing the FAMG. It had already been relatively rare to see variants of the Mk 46 in actual operational use. For decades now, U.S. special operators have also been using a succession of lightweight 7.62x51mm machine guns, as well, including compact versions of the M60 and a derivative of the Minimi/M249 designated the Mk 48. The aforementioned Light Machine Gun-Assault is a replacement for the Mk 48.

The U.S. Army is also moving to replace at least a substantial portion of its standard M249s with new 6.8x51mm caliber M250 machine guns, which might also make their way into service elsewhere across the U.S. military. The 5.56x45mm M27 Infantry Automatic Rifle (IAR) has also largely supplanted the M249 in the U.S. Marine Corps.

All this being said, U.S. special operators routinely conduct missions in close-quarters environments where the added firepower of a belt-fed machine gun can be beneficial, but the added range offered by a heavier design is not necessary. A design that cuts as much weight as possible is very attractive to fast-moving special operations teams that typically use belt-fed machine guns for brief periods of suppressing fire, as well.

SOCOM is now separately pursuing new hypervelocity 5.56x45mm ammunition that could significantly extend the reach of weapons chambered in that caliber as part of an effort called the Hypervelocity Improved Carbine (HICAR).

In addition, there is value in having commonality in ammunition with other existing rifles and machine guns, as well as those in use with allies and partners. The latter point is especially relevant for special operations forces, which are often forward-deployed alongside their foreign counterparts in locales where access to traditional supply chains is not guaranteed. There are training benefits to being able to use more readily available, less specialized, and often less expensive ammunition, as well.

SOCOM’s Lt. Col. Wood highlighted all of this while speaking more generally during his interview with us last week:

“So, HICAR’s got me excited. Back in the late teens, the Army went down this higher velocity [route], and I’m intentionally using the word velocity and not pressure in what they’ve done with the M7 and M8 rifles. They’ve been able to increase the velocity and therefore create a flatter shooting rifle as well as a rifle that has greater energy on target, and that does incredible things for barrier defeat in a lot of situations. Now we’ve had 10 years, almost, for that technology to mature, people have learned things, and the question then becomes, what could we do for special operators in calibers that are not new?”

“The advantage for SOF [special operations forces] operators is I’ve got, say, the Green Berets who do a lot of partnering with foreign SOF operators, but there’s no [6.8mm] ammo running around central Africa, or you know, pick your favorite spot where we like to do partnering operations around the world. But there’s a lot of 5.56mm and other common cartridges of that nature, and so what we want to…achieve is maybe not the same effect as what the Army’s done with the M7 and the M8 and that high-velocity ammunition that they have, but where could we get close to that in 5.56 and potentially other calibers in the future.”

5.56x45mm could turn out to be just the baseline caliber for FAMG, too. SOCOM has long had a fondness for guns with interchangeable calibers, allowing for different cartridges to be used as appropriate for specific missions. As a tangential example, the command just recently confirmed to TWZ‘s sister site Task & Purpose that its new Mid-Range Gas Gun-Assault (MRGG-A) rifles, now also designated the Mk 24, will be able to be configured to fire either 6.5mm Creedmoor or 7.62x51mm.

It is also worth noting that the U.S. Army’s elite 75th Ranger Regiment has already begun using the 5.56x45mm Light Assault Machine Gun (LAMG) from Knights Armament Company (KAC), at least on a limited level in recent years, alongside current-generation versions of the M249. KAC’s website presents a typical LAMG configuration featuring a 15-inch barrel and weighing 11.4 pounds empty, which is more compact and lightweight than the Mk 46.

The LAMG also has what is known as a “constant recoil system,” which is designed to significantly reduce felt recoil and, by extension, improve accuracy during sustained autonomous fire. KAC says this makes the gun “more controllable than other similar machine guns that weigh nearly twice as much.”

There are other 5.56x45mm machine guns on the market today, which could be adaptable to meet the FAMG requirements, as well. This includes FN’s own newer EVOLYS design, which is available in 5.56x45mm, as well as a variety of other calibers.

As SOCOM has said, more details about its requirements and plans for the FAMG are set to come soon.

Contact the author: joe@twz.com

One by one, the visitors descend through a tight tunnel cut through volcanic rock into the damp foundations of the Teatro Romano buried beneath Herculaneum, with the weight of 2,000 years of city above them. “This is a time machine,” the guide says, “and we are going back.” It is pitch black as film-maker Gianfranco Rosi’s camera finds torchlight catching the tourists’ transparent waterproof capes, making them appear like ghosts.

Released on the streaming platform Mubi this March, Rosi’s documentary Pompei: Below the Clouds threads a needle from classical antiquity to the present day. Presented in ashen black and white, without narration or interviews, it places the viewer inside the region surrounding Naples and leaves us there, each scene presenting a place and a moment in the area’s long history.

Naples is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world, and most visitors see only a fraction of it before boarding the Circumvesuviana at Porta Nolana and riding the narrow-gauge railway east to Pompei or Herculaneum. In Below the Clouds, Rosi does not alight there. He stays on the train, camera in hand, and traverses this seismic landscape – from the Sorrentine peninsula, crowned by Vesuvius in the east, to the lesser-known craters of the Phlegraean Fields in the west. The train, Rosi says, is “my time machine”. His lens draws us into the Naples most visitors never see.

As a film-maker myself, who has lived and worked in Naples for the past 15 years, I was inspired by Below the Clouds to make my own pilgrimage, and boarded the overcrowded, noisy trains I usually avoid.

Before the Circumvesuviana reaches the archaeological site of Pompei, it skirts the Bay of Naples, passing through a number of overlooked towns characterised by a stratification of history visible in the architecture. Drawing into the station of Torre Annunziata, Rosi holds the camera on the visible layers of the town’s history: diamond-patterned Roman brickwork cut from nearby volcanic quarries, Doric columns from an excavated Roman villa, and the still-lived-in mid-century housing blocks rising above them. That Roman villa is worth stopping for. Believed to have been built for Poppaea Sabina, the second wife of Emperor Nero, Villa Oplontis feels like a secret discovery. Its frescoes are almost untouched, its colonnade pristine, and on this day, as always, there was scarcely another soul in sight.

Back on the Circumvesuviana, I head east to Somma Vesuviana. A team from the University of Tokyo has been excavating here for decades, slowly uncovering the Villa Augustea, the imperial estate where the Emperor Augustus is believed to have died in AD14. It was not the great eruption of AD79 that buried the villa, but a later one in AD472. The archaeological treasures still buried across the region are so numerous that tomb raiders have long burrowed into the soft volcanic stone looking for loot to sell on.

A second train line, the Cumana, runs in the opposite direction. It departs from Montesanto station in central Naples and heads west, reaching Pozzuoli in 25 minutes. At the end of the line lies a working port city of 75,000 people living in the basin of one of the world’s most geologically active calderas (volcanic craters). The lore surrounding Vesuvius has long overshadowed the dangers posed by the Phlegraean Fields, which rumble daily beneath the city’s foundations.

Stepping off the train at Pozzuoli, I was hit by the pungent sulphuric smoke drifting over the port. I had timed my arrival for a simple lunch at Abbascio ù Mare (a local favourite serving fish landed from the boats that morning) before visiting the Macellum of Pozzuoli, a 2nd-century Roman market near the harbour. Here, I found the clearest record of what is known as bradyseism, the movement of magmatic fluid and gas beneath the surface of the Earth that lifts and lowers the land, sinking entire towns and raising them again centuries later. Halfway up the ancient columns, I spotted bands of small holes in the stone. These were bored by molluscs when the columns once stood metres below the bay. Rosi’s camera follows the phenomenon underwater, descending into the submerged ruins of nearby Baia, where robed marble figures stand upright on the seabed as shoals of fish drift over mosaics and between their feet.

Between east and west, at the intersection of the Circumvesuviana and the Cumana, lies Naples – known to the Greco-Romans as Neapolis (the new town) because it was new compared with Pompei and Baia. In the centre of the city, at the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli, Rosi films Maria, the museum’s archaeologist, deep in the storage vaults. This is what he calls the casaforte (the safe of memory) – shelf upon shelf of fragmented marble torsos, legs and busts, the overflow of 2,000 years of excavation. These artefacts are down here, Maria says, until it is their turn to return to the museum floor above – a mirror, Rosi suggests to me when we speak, of society’s own hierarchies. Like Rosi, I am obsessed with these perfectly formed marble figures, the survivors of catastrophe, that live in the galleries of the museum upstairs among the frescoes and bronzes, pulled from the same volcanic earth that buried thousands of people under Vesuvius.

Rosi juxtaposes the marble torsos with shots of dismembered ex-voto, small metal plates shaped like individual body parts. These are offerings, often left in churches or street shrines along with prayers to saints in exchange for bodily cures.

At the small church of Santa Maria Francesca delle Cinque Piaghe in the Quartieri Spagnoli, one of my favourite corners of the city, hundreds of ex-votos in the shape of pregnant women have been left for the saint of fertility. These practices, still very much alive today, speak to the Neapolitan impulse to marry the sacred and the profane.

Rosi’s film ends in an abandoned cinema somewhere along the train line, its seats destroyed, its screen partly intact. Into this ruin, Rosi projects clips from Roberto Rossellini’s Journey to Italy, a film about the past, playing in a ruin, in a city built on ruins, above a city that was itself once buried. Like a Chronovisor (a mythical 1950s invention that supposedly broadcast actual historical events), the cinema is where the present tense becomes the past even as you watch it. Just like Naples. Just like Below the Clouds.

By the end of the film’s nearly two-hour runtime, the viewer has made the same journey as those visitors descending into the foundations of the Teatro Romano in Herculaneum to behold and reflect on a civilisation buried mid-sentence. Below the Clouds insists, however, that this confrontation does not require a museum ticket. “We are already living inside the catastrophe,” says Rosi.

Pompei: Below the Clouds is available on Mubi. Herculaneum, Pompei, Villa Oplontis, Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli are open to visitors. The Circumvesuviana runs from Napoli Porta Nolana east to Pompei and Herculaneum. The Cumana line runs from Montesanto station west to Pozzuoli. Sophia Seymour offers bespoke city walks and itineraries through Looking for Lila

When it comes to machine guns and rifles, U.S. Special Operations Command (SOCOM) wants its operators to have deadlier weapons that shoot further with greater accuracy, are lighter to carry. The command also wants some to be able to chamber hypervelocity ammunition that is under development. To get more insights about what firearms commandos will be packing in the future, we spoke with Lt. Col. Alan Wood, SOCOM’s Program Manager for Special Operations Forces (SOF) Lethality. In an exclusive interview during the annual SOF Week conference in Tampa, Florida, Wood told us what’s working, what isn’t and what gets him, in his words, “pretty excited.”

Some of the questions and answers have been edited for clarity.

Q: SOCOM just put out an Area of Interest (AOI) request for what is being called the Hypervelocity Improved Carbine (HICAR) program, designed to “develop an improved carbine capable of operating with currently issued 5.56 NATO ammunition, while also incorporating design features to ensure reliability, durability, and longevity with the use of future hypervelocity 5.56x45mm ammunition.” What can you tell me about that?

A: So, HICAR’s got me excited. Back in the late teens, the Army went down this higher velocity [route], and I’m intentionally using the word velocity and not pressure in what they’ve done with the M7 and M8 rifles. They’ve been able to increase the velocity and therefore create a flatter shooting rifle as well as a rifle that has greater energy on target, and that does incredible things for barrier defeat in a lot of situations. Now we’ve had 10 years, almost, for that technology to mature, people have learned things, and the question then becomes, what could we do for special operators in calibers that are not new?

The advantage for SOF operators is I’ve got, say, the Green Berets who do a lot of partnering with foreign SOF operators, but there’s no [6.8mm] ammo running around central Africa, or you know, pick your favorite spot where we like to do partnering operations around the world. But there’s a lot of 5.56mm and other common cartridges of that nature, and so what we want to…achieve is maybe not the same effect as what the Army’s done with the M7 and the M8 and that high-velocity ammunition that they have, but where could we get close to that in 5.56 and potentially other calibers in the future.

It really goes back to the evolution in steel case ammo that Federal started several years ago, and there’s been more iterations of that coming out – new alloys for cases that far exceed performance of the standard brass that we’ve been using for the last 100 years. And the really amazing part is they can actually be cheaper than brass as well, so we get more performance at a lower cost. It’s a win-win.

Q: Can you provide any information about the hypervelocity rounds themselves?

A: At this point, it’s still a significant science project, and so there are no specific high velocity rounds that are fielded at this point. It’s an R&D project, and we’re trying to see where we can take that technology.

Q: Can you give me a sense of what you’re looking for in those rounds, and any timelines?

A:  You can see the round and what we’re going to do based on the HICAR document on Sam.gov, so that’s as much information as there is out there. What we’re really looking for is what does it [do] for the rifle? Because as you start getting into rifle development – there are a lot of things to consider, other than how much pressure can you put in the chamber. You’ve got to worry about the failure modes, and you know what happens if you get a projectile stuck in the chamber, things along those lines. There are a lot of other things that you have to worry about, because you want to make sure not only is the gun effective, but it’s got to be safe, and it’s also got to be suitable for the particular mission, and so that’s that broad spectrum that we’re trying to balance and trade off with everything that’s out there in between both the ammunition and the rifle that’s firing it.

Q: Can you provide an update on fielding of the Mid-Range Gas Gun, both assault and sniper configurations?

A: There is some sensitivity to that… We have been fielding the Mid-Range Gas Gun-Sniper variant since 2023, and we just recently started procurement of the assault variant, so we are pretty excited about getting kicked off of the assault variant from [Lewis Machine & Tool] LMT.

Q: When was the assault variant fielded?

A: We’re currently under a production contract with that. We have not begun to field it.

Q: Any timeline on that?

A: Actually, we are still having those discussions with the vendors. I don’t have an answer for that one.

Q: Why are you excited about the new Mid-Range Gas Gun-Assault (MRGG-A) variant?

A: That one kind of solves the extended range for those mid-range calibers, both 7.62 NATO and the 6.5mm Creedmoor round. That weapon exceeds a 1,200-meter point target in 6.5mm Creedmoor. It’s just a phenomenal, accurate weapon system for our SOF operators. All the components are super excited about this one.

Piston driven AR15 VS gas impingement

Q: Can you provide an update on the Light Machine Gun-Medium (LMG-M) that is supposed to be chambered in .338 Norma Magnum?

A: SOCOM has paused that program at this time as far as a significant fielding. However, we are fielding a small portion to one unit, not to be mentioned, and we’re going to see how that works out in that unit. We’re doing a small fielding combat evaluation with a unit to see how it’s functioning.

Q: What about SOCOM’s other lightweight machine gun programs?

A: We just got into an OTA [Other Transaction Authority contract] for the Lightweight Machine Gun- Assault (LMG-A), the 7.62 variant, and have a couple competitors there working designs there and expect to have that out to replace the MK 48 in the Fiscal Year 2028-2029 timeframe.

Q: Is the LMG-M being provided by Sig Sauer?

A: Yes.

SIG SAUER MG 338 Machine Gun

Q: Walk me through the advantages of a Norma .338 round.

A: So .338 has some significant range. The .338 has greater range than traditional .50 cal, and the particular round that we have is more effective on target than the .50 caliber at those greater ranges. However, if you compare it to 7.62 or some other lighter cartridges, it is still a heavier round. There are tradeoffs in the .338 machine gun world.

Q: What does the .338 bring to the table for operators?

A: You can replace a .50 caliber’s weighted system with a lighter system that is also dismountable. So, for instance, if you had a light vehicle that had trouble carrying a .50 cal plus a significant amount of ammunition, if you switch over to .338 you can save hundreds of pounds and keep that vehicle under its [gross vehicle weight rating] GVWR. Or especially if you’re doing things like jumping a vehicle that has to be able to hit the ground pretty hard – things along those lines. It allows you to reduce some of that weight, but be able to maintain the range and effectiveness.

GDOTS – LightWeight Medium Machine Gun (LWMMG) [1080p]

Q: One last question, what can you tell me about any counter drone rounds that you are either fielding or looking to field across all platforms?

A: We have definitely been looking at counter-drone rounds specifically in the current calibers and so what can I do to augment operators with the rifle that they’re currently carrying. We’ve also been experimenting with various other things, from shotguns to 40 millimeters [40mm grenade], and we’re still trying to sort through there. There’s a lot of things you have to think about when you’re looking at the effectiveness of a round like that. Unfortunately, I can’t go any deeper than that, because I’m really getting into more of an [operational security] OPSEC type of thing, I don’t want to go there.

Contact the author: howard@twz.com

PLUCKED from obscurity and then dropped when fans lose interest, men in reality TV shows often fare worse than their female counterparts.

While women regularly earn a fortune from brand endorsements, the guys can find themselves struggling after they are no longer on our TV screens.

Now the untimely deaths of The Only Way Is Essex cast members Jake Hall and Jordan Wright within a few months of each other has raised fears that ITV is failing in its duty of care for former reality TV stars.

Jake, 35, died last week in a Spanish villa following a night of partying while Jordan, 33 was found dead in a ditch in Thailand in March.

A TV insider told The Sun: “The tragic deaths of Jake and Jordan have raised some serious red flags.

“No one is blaming ITV but there is definitely a pattern which emerges time and time again on all reality shows.

“Measures were put in place a number of years ago but it doesn’t seem to be enough.”

Artist and designer Jake, who joined Towie in 2015, had been living in Spain.

He was found dead in a pool of blood in a villa in Majorca last Wednesday morning after he seemingly crashed through a window.

A police source said witnesses described Jake as “agitated”, possibly from “alcohol and other substances he may have consumed”.

He had a number of struggles in recent years, from losing his fashion brand Prevu to being hit with a restraining order by ex-girlfriend Misse Beqiri, a model and the mother of his eight-year-old daughter River.

Yet right from the start of his telly career, Jake was open about being uncomfortable with fame.

Shortly after his debut on Towie, Jake said on This Morning: “The privacy part has been quite difficult because everyone knows your life within days of being on the show.”

Jordan, from Basildon, Essex, also admitted he struggled with life in the spotlight.

The former firefighter said: “I had an enjoyable career for six years before I resigned to pursue a life in the limelight of reality TV — a choice that left me hugely unfulfilled, stagnant and lost.

“People think it’s glitz and glamour but the truth is very far from public perception.

“I really struggled.

“When I left I lost a huge part of myself and my sense of purpose.”

Jordan returned to firefighting in 2023 but he struggled to settle and in December moved to Thailand where he was looking forward to a “very exciting year ahead”.

He shared his new life with his 21,500 Instagram followers, but in March was found dead face down in a drainage canal on the island of Phuket.

CCTV footage appeared to show Jordan pacing erratically outside a hotel before bolting out of the complex shortly before his body was found.

Unfortunately, the two deaths were not Towie’s first.

In January 2021, Mick Norcross took his own life, aged 57.

The Sugar Hut owner and businessman had joined the show with his son Kirk, who now runs a waste removal business.

Addiction has also taken hold of a number of cast members, including James Argent, who suffered two near-fatal overdoses at home.

Arg’s drug binges cost him his relationship with co-star Lydia Bright, his job on Towie and other high- profile TV work.

Last year he was in trouble after pushing his former Miss Sweden partner Nicoline Artursson down some steps on holiday in Spain.

He admitted an offence of gender violence and was given a six-month prison sentence, suspended for two years.

Jake and Jordan’s deaths sent shockwaves through fans of Towie and its stars.

Charlie King, who was on the show in 2012 and 2013, has faced his own demons since he left the programme but believes his fellow cast members must “take responsibility”.

He told The Sun: “Reality stars in general are seeking something — whether it’s fame, attention or validation.

“It’s a two-way street — stars want to appear on the shows for that lifestyle and experience, and shows need the participants.

“I can’t say Towie gave me the best support when I finished on the show.

“I remember feeling lost and redundant, trying to navigate a life post the show and still having eyes on me.

“It was hard.

“I missed the show deeply and all that came with it.

“I think access to a counsellor or therapy in those first months or years after appearing is always a good idea.

“But I also don’t think it’s fair to point the finger at these shows for how individuals live their lives after — we have to take responsibility.”

Charlie added that producers offer much better support for their on-screen talent these days and that ITV “isn’t afraid to pull out cast members if they think it’s getting too much or they need a breather, which is great to see”.

Following his stint on Towie, Charlie was diagnosed with body dysmorphia and had a botched nose job.

Other lads from the show have also gone under the knife in a quest for perfection.

Bobby Norris is now almost unrecognisable after having a full deep plane facelift, neck lift and lower eyelid surgery.

James Lock has also battled body dysmorphia and says he has spent around £100,000 on getting work done.

On rival ITV show Love Island, telly bosses brought in a revised set of welfare measures in 2021, including “comprehensive” psychological support, after former stars Sophie Gradon and Mike Thalassitis took their own lives.

Their relatives blamed a lack of support from the show for contributing to their mental anguish.

Love Islanders are offered a minimum of eight therapy sessions when they return home.

They also get advice on coping with their finances.

But unlike Love Island, Towie cast members often appear on the show for years at a time.

A number of its former stars, including Yazmin Oukhellou and Tommy Mallet, have praised the support they have received while on the show — but what happens when the cameras stop rolling?

A telly insider revealed: “When women finish on a reality show, brand deals, an influencing career and other avenues are open to them — but it’s very different for men.

“They can get club PAs but that involves late nights and lots of booze.

“Some people like Jake or Tommy launch a career in fashion, but many struggle to achieve the dizzy heights they once enjoyed.”

Women, meanwhile, have made millions off the back of Towie, thanks to very successful business models.

Former glamour model Sam Faiers owns global collagen brand Revive and is worth £9million, and Gemma Collins is now a huge TV star with £7million in the bank.

Lucy Mecklenburgh — famed for throwing drinks on cheating Mario Falcone — now owns a thriving fitness brand and shows off her happy life on social media.

But there have also been a number of male Towie successes too.

Mark Wright landed I’m A Celebrity and Strictly at a time when Z-listers were reportedly banned, as well as enjoying a stint on US TV.

Now a radio DJ, he is married to actress Michelle Keegan, and the couple live in a £3.5million Essex mansion with one-year-old daughter Palma.

Joey Essex also became a huge breakout star.

These days he is worth at least £10millon thanks to a lucrative reality TV career, savvy personal branding and business ventures.

Another success story is Tommy Mallet, who launched luxury footwear and apparel brand Mallet London and more recently Ctrne trainers.

Tommy, Joey and Mark are living up to Towie’s theme tune The Only Way Is Up — and fans will hope there will be more men from the show who enjoy similar success.

ITV was approached for comment but declined.