by Unknown
“Because they killed a man and offered him to their god,” Donado blurted out.
Several of the mayors gasped, unable to believe what the young man was saying. “One of the natives?” asked Patricia.
He shook his head, “No, it was an older white man with very white hair. I think he was sick. He had to be helped into place.”
Patricia gasped and placed her hand to her mouth. Tears began to form as she translated what he had said for the others.
Now there was an outcry from the others. Everyone knew now that Jim Mitchell had been killed.
“I watched them cut out his heart with a knife. It was horrible,” he said finally, his tears mixing with the blood on his cheeks.
Curtis Walker sat back on his legs. “That means we’re all doomed,” he said. “He has no plan to let us go.”
The revelation fell like a fog on the people in the room. It was interrupted by a very strong female voice. “I don’t think so,” said Patricia as she sat up straight. The determined look on her face got everyone’s attention. “We’re going to get out of this, and when we do, I intend to slam the cell door on that man myself.” She turned back to Donado. “Now tell us everything you know about this place we’re in.”
Aboard a C-17, Bound for Brazil
The C-17 climbed steadily into the evening sky. After turning south, the men unfastened their seatbelts and went over their gear one more time. They had been joined by several technicians explaining new equipment they would be carrying. Ricks was amazed to see all the things they would use which he hadn’t dreamed about just a few days earlier. He looked down at what appeared to be a standard IPhone in his hand.
“Each of you will carry this. If we have any communications to you, it will be in both voice and as a text message. The only difference is you will be getting the signal from a satellite instead of a cell tower. You can also send information to us. But to do so, you will need to plug it into an antenna. Some of you have already noted the piece which has been attached to your helmets. It doubles as a charger and an antenna,” said the technician as he grabbed a helmet. “You plug it in with this wire. There’s also a receptacle mounted here where the unit simply slides in. You keep it here until you need it, then simply pull it out and turn it on.” He pulled the unit out of the holder and simply pressed the button on the front. The unit even looked like a standard IPhone. “Use it like the phones you’re used to, but instead of a list of contacts, it has each of you by a number and ‘home.’ I guess you all know where home is.”
The men chuckled. “Can I call my wife,” asked Sgt. Fred Overman, a sniper on the team.
“I’m afraid not. With all the things we packed into this, there wasn’t any room for a real phone. I guess Mama will just have to wait.” The men laughed again. “But another thing it can do is act like a portable secure radio. Hit the ‘local’ setting right here,” he said pointing toward the symbol, “and simply put it back into your helmet holster. Then it will let you talk to everyone even at a whisper. Just remember something. We will also be able to hear and talk to you at headquarters. The idea is that we will be able to better understand what you are up against. I am told we won’t bother you unless you need us.”
The men on the plane were a little skeptical about that, but kept it to themselves. There were several innovative gadgets they were briefed on, but the best was saved to last. The technician turned and looked toward a section of the aircraft nearby. “Okay, you can come out now,” he said.
Amazingly, where there was nothing but some equipment, suddenly as if peeling himself into being, a man appeared in a white lab coat. Reaching back into the mass, he flipped a switch and there suddenly appeared what seemed to be a large lipstick made out of a piece of canvas.
“Son of a bitch,” exclaimed on of the men.
The technician turned back and smiled at the men. “We decided to send this along,” he said as he was handed the canvas. “This is one of only two we have. Some engineers down in Clemson University developed this. Using the Velcro tabs, you put this over yourself and activate this small computer inside,” he said as he showed the men how it worked. “This thing is fully impregnated with fiber optics that pick up what’s behind you and transmit it instantly to the opposite side. You have to stay still when you use it, because there is just a fraction of a second’s delay, but it might come in handy if you’re trying to get in close. The battery pack weighs just a little over a pound and the whole thing is less than five pounds. Try it on,” he said as he turned to one of the men beside him.
Sgt. Tim Justice slid the cloth over his head and pulled it tight over him, then attached the Velcro fasteners. It only took a few seconds and he seemingly disappeared before the men. If you looked hard, you could tell he was there, but at any distance, this thing would be totally invisible.
“Walk around a little,” the technician said.
As he did, the men could see the delay and it outlined something there, but it was very strange, almost as if looking at something through a fisheye lens on a camera.
“How long will the battery last?” asked Ricks.
“About 20 minutes. That little computer is working hard. You’ll notice it will get a little warm.”
“Yea, and this thing doesn’t breathe at all,” said Justice from under the device. Suddenly the sound of Velcro was heard and the side opened as he reached out with his hand, pointing his finger like a gun. “I can see just well enough through this to get where I’d need to go and the side openings will allow me to shoot someone,” he said as he twisted around under the covering. The hand reached up and pulled apart the Velcro on the top. He slid his head through. “Not too shabby. It’s like a sauna in this thing, but if you guys can’t see me, I guarantee I could sneak up on some guy real easy,” Justice said.
“Guys, that’s about it for the bells and whistles. I suggest you take some time for each of you to get familiar with this stuff. If you have questions, we’re here for you,” the technician concluded.
“Hang on a sec,” said Captain Chapman. “I want to make sure you all know what we’re up against. We have been training for the last few days to get this done without any mockups of where we’re going, but that just means we have to take our time and do it right. We have a fourteen hour flight head of us and we’re going to use a lot of that time making sure our plans are set. I need you to take the next hour to get familiar with this new equipment. These techs are here so let’s use them. I want you to know everything, including where to get the porn,” he said with a grin. The men chuckled at the joke. “Once you’re ready, everyone meet back up at the forward hatch and we will go over the plans we made one more time before we sack out. I know this isn’t your bed at home, but at least try to get some sleep. Now get at it.” Chapman pointed toward Ricks and Lieutenant Mason. “Let’s talk for a minute,” he said. The three men walked up to the kitchen unit and they got a cup of coffee and sat down.
“Guys, this is going a little faster than I might have wished. I’m relying on you to make sure it all works. Bill, keep checking with the guys up top,” he said to Mason. “If any more information comes in, I want to know about it. Ricks, you have the most experience in evasion tactics. What are we missing? What ways do you see for us to fall on our swords during this?”
Ricks shrugged his shoulders. “Boss, we’ve trained the hell out of these guys. They know what to look for and the things to do, but there are still a lot of unknowns. I was able to familiarize myself with the drop zone and all points in between, but there’s a lot that can’t be seen from a satellite photo. You know that. The one thing we have on our side is that our guys will be watching from the big bird upstairs. They can let us know if something is coming our way. But that adds time to the mix – something we don’t have a lot of. Luckily, this is a tight group. We’re thinking alike. That’s what makes the difference in this situation. The rest we’ll have to deal with as we get there.”
“You’re not making me feel better
,” said Chapman.
“Sorry about that, but that’s how it is. I’m hoping we’ll get more info on the way and maybe some more images. The more we can see, the better off we are. Then we just have to rely on these guys to get the job done. Aren’t you glad you brought me along,” said Ricks with a grin.
“I’ll let you know,” said Chapman. “Now let’s get around the guys. Look for problems and let’s fix them now. Besides, I want to try on that suit,” he said. “Let’s get going.”
The men headed back to the group intent on learning the new gear. Ricks reflected on how good he felt about the team. On second thought, he didn’t have any reservations at all.
Caracas
Angela Harrison was the true Soccer Mom, except in this case it was Lacrosse. When her son had expressed an interest, she went out of her way to learn the game, talk to parents with sons in the game, and in general, immerse herself into what her son wanted to do. Brian had gotten interested almost as soon as he could pick up one of his father’s sticks. By five, he could sling a ball into the air and then catch it. His father, Edward, had played in college. It turned out Brian was a natural player. His hand-eye coordination was astounding almost from the first and the stick was an extension of his arm. When Edward had been transferred by his engineering firm to Venezuela, the family was pleased that there was a rudimentary league in the capital where several teams played each other.
Angela looked forward to the games and scrimmages just to watch her son play and to meet the other families. It was a great way to meet other people. Tonight’s scrimmage wasn’t too bad. The boys were playing well for being so inexperienced. Brian was the stand out. But one of the new players was the one she was watching. Emilio Messina had been a walk on just a few weeks before. Up till a few days ago, he played with borrowed equipment. Then his father got him a worn, but usable set of pads, helmet, and a stick. Starting as a defender, it soon became obvious that he was nearly as skilled as Brian and eventually became an attacker on the team. Already he had scored two of the goals and had worked with Brian to maneuver the ball around the field to help with four more. Emilio and Brian were becoming close friends.
At the end of one of the time periods, she noticed Emilio join up with a very tall, nice looking man. Within a few minutes she noticed Emilio point her out and the two made their way over.
“Hi, Emilio. Is this your father?” she asked.
Emilio had a large grin on his face. The man extended his hand. “Carl Messina. It is good to meet you. I’ve been watching your son. He is very good on the team,” he said in English.
Angela beamed. “Emilio is the one to watch. I can’t believe he started playing only recently. Did you play?”
Messina shook his head. “No, we only played fútbol when I was young. But when Emilio saw what these boys were doing, he liked the game from the start. I am glad he has become interested in any sport. It keeps him busy,” he chuckled.
Angela laughed. “At this age they need it,” she said. She found Carl Messina a pleasant man, but after a few minutes of talking she noticed a slight uneasiness in him. He kept looking around as if he were looking for someone. As the game continued, both parents cheered the teams on. They continued to talk about the game and things to watch for. After about half an hour, a man in uniform came walking up. Messina smiled and waved to the man, who quickly joined them.
“Señora Harrison, this is my friend Colonel Juan Rojas,” he said introducing the two.
Rojas smiled and shook her hand. “It is good to meet you,” he said with a smile. “I hope I haven’t missed too much.”
“Almost,” Angela said. “We just have ten minutes left in the game.”
Two of the boys collided on the field and the entire crowd let out a gasp. They were relieved when both got up and continued the game as if nothing happened.
“Who is that one?” asked Rojas. “He is very good,” he said, pointing out Brian.
“That’s my son, Brian,” Angela said not taking her eyes off the game.
“Not bad at all,” Rojas exclaimed. “And young Emilio is doing very well.”
Suddenly Rojas dropped the English and shouted some things in Spanish, urging directions for the boys on the field.
Angela looked over at him. “You must have played before.”
Rojas nodded as he watched. “I was on the first team ever formed here in Caracas. I played through the time I was in the University.” He called out some more, obviously getting excited about the game.
The coach was standing nearby and heard the instructions Rojas was shouting and came over as well. After a few minutes, he and Rojas walked a short distance away to talk about the team. When they left, Angela and Messina were standing alone and apart from the rest of the parents who had moved down the field a short distance.
Suddenly Messina came slightly closer and asked in a lower tone, “Do you ever work in your embassy?”
Angela glanced at him and noticed he had not taken his eyes off the game. “I sometimes help out with events. Why?” she asked.
Glancing around the field again, Messina appeared to watch the game, but got very serious. “I need help getting information to someone there and I don’t want anyone to know about it.”
Angela resumed her gaze toward the field, but was no longer watching the game. When they had arrived, a person at the embassy had talked to them about what might happen if someone wanted to pass information through them to the embassy. Until now, she thought it was some foolish notion. But there he was and he obviously was concerned that someone might find out.
“What is it about?” she asked between shouts to the field.
“We know where your American hostages are,” he said quietly above the shouts around them. “I need to meet with someone to give them the exact location.”
Angela began to understand why he was so uneasy. “You think you are being watched?”
Messina broke into a grin. “I don’t see anyone here, but I am certain of it,” he said.
The whistle blew calling an end to the game. The boys made their way back to where the coach and Rojas were standing.
“Time for the pep talk,” she said. “You coming to the game tomorrow?”
He looked at her. “I will.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said.
After the talk by the coach, everyone began making their way back to their cars and home. Messina said his good byes and joined Rojas. “Looks like you made a friend,” he said.
Rojas smiled. “Yes, I’ve been recruited to become an assistant coach and help out when I can. It means I’ll be at almost every game. What about you?”
Messina nodded. “It’s a good way to meet people. I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s game,” he said. Both understood the meaning. Now came the dangerous part.
Chapter 10
Betrayal
The CIA
“What the hell is this?” exclaimed the analyst as she was pouring over the latest satellite image of southern Venezuela. The images clearly showed large concentrations of troops appearing along the hilltops of the border with Brazil. As she looked further, two radar sites and a missile battery had also appeared along the border. Closer look at the missile battery concluded that it was a 9K33 Osa / SA-8 Gecko Surface to Air Missile system. The six wheeled vehicle held both the missiles and a phased array type radar system. This was bad news. After summoning her supervisor, she shifted to some other mountain tops along the border. There were spots along several where such systems could be deployed, and indeed, one had a vehicle making its way along a dirt road leading to the site. She began highlighting the areas electronically. After an hour of close work, more than thirty areas showed an increase in personnel, armor, and other systems. It all added up to one thing – someone was expected.
“Print four copies and send it to the Director,” the supervisor said as he picked up the phone. He dialed a number he rarely used. “This is Thompson in satellite analysis. I need to speak to the
director, right now.”
One hour later the President stood with his fists balled. “Okay, who has leaked this out!” he demanded. The men in the room stood and looked around at each other. “Damn it, I told you people I wanted a tight lid on this thing. By the look of these images, the cat’s out of the bag. Who has been let in on this?” he demanded.
Admiral Perry looked almost defeated. “I don’t know, sir. I know the Commandant and I only went over this with the team and General Richardson. Everything was listed top secret, and everything, except for the orders themselves which were hand delivered, was scrubbed so that nothing was said about the actual mission. I have no idea where the leak could be,” he said.
General Foote nodded. “He’s right. Even the aircraft commander and crew were not informed of the mission until the plane was in the air. There have been no communications with the aircraft except to update the team over the secure link.”
“The Special Operations Division is the only one in the loop,” said General Gray. “Claire Richardson is doing this by the book and only people with the security clearance and a need to know are being brought aboard. We even made sure the technicians with all the gadgets rode with the team so they couldn’t accidently spill the beans. Could it have been from another agency?” he asked.
“Don’t look at me,” said the FBI Director. We’ve been monitoring as many sources as we can. I probably won’t get any confirmation until we reconstruct this.”
Jim Butler held up his hand. “Gentlemen, the bottom line is we have been compromised. Our team is nearly at their destination and we may as well just call them back home. Our best effort is to decide where we go from here. I think between the FBI, CIA and NSA, we should get the answer as to who did this. Now, what do we do with the team?” he asked as the door at the end of the room opened. Both Claire Richardson and Roger Hammond entered the room. They didn’t look happy.
