B00H242ZGY EBOK

by Unknown

  “Mister Jackson, is Mr. Williamson in his office?” asked Kelly.

  “Yes sir, he’s been in there for the past several hours,” Jackson said.

  Kelly winked at him. “Thanks, bud.” The men headed to the door and walked in. After a few minutes, Jackson heard Williamson shout, “I am a former United States Senator!” Scuffling was heard in the office and in another minute, the men came out with Williamson in handcuffs and being held on each arm by very large FBI agents.

  Jackson didn’t really know what to do, but Kelly came over to him after exiting the office. “Is there any way to lock that door?” he asked.

  Jackson nodded and produced a key for the deadbolt. Kelly took it and then locked the door. Then he gave the key to another agent who positioned himself outside the office.

  Jackson looked at Kelly. “Am I supposed to come too?” he asked.

  Kelly laughed. “No, Deshawn. You just need to hang around until we finish up. There will be a team here in a few minutes to go through the place. I need you here to verify we didn’t take campaign secrets. My middle name is not Watergate,” he said with a grin.

  “What about Greg Foster?”

  Kelly placed a hand on the young man’s shoulders. “He’s fine. The information you gave us helped out a lot. When we’re done you need to go get some rest. In the morning, you need to let the staff know that neither Williamson nor Foster will be coming in tomorrow. They got called to some big meeting. Cancel their engagements and reschedule them for later on. I figure in a day or so, your friend will be back. He’s going to need your help more than ever,” Kelly said with a warm smile.

  The Mountains of Venezuela

  The Osprey flared out and eased into position over a small open area in the trees. Several small red lights had been placed in a rectangle at the center of the grassy area, and someone holding two cone shaped lights was helping guide the aircraft into position. Once the wheels touched the ground, dark shadows of men sprang from the rear of the aircraft and dashed to the edge of the tree line not far away. Almost immediately, the whine of the engines increased and the aircraft rose from the ground and dashed away towards the border with Colombia.

  “Help me get these lights out,” said a voice coming from the direction of where the man had been standing. The men quickly turned off each flashlight and brought them back to the person now holding only one small cone. One of the figures came forward.

  “Captain Chapman?” asked the voice.

  Chapman extended his hand. “Thanks for the help,” he said as he took the other man’s hand.

  “Carlos. I’m glad you’re finally here. We’ve been pretty anxious for you and your team to get going,” said Verdes.

  “So have we,” Chapman said.

  “Everything’s set. The plane will be waiting, but if you see the need to get in earlier, we can probably speed things up a bit. The net will come up in one hour. So keep in touch,” said Verdes.

  “I plan on being a mile away before I check in. How bad is the undergrowth?” Chapman asked.

  “You lucked out. There was a big wildfire along this section just a year ago, so a lot of the underbrush was burned down. There is an old trail running from just behind me down along the ridge that will take you within a mile and a half of your destination,” Verde said as he brought out a map and showed Chapman under the red light. “You might not have known it because the satellite images don’t really show it. Just be careful. Sometimes army troops come up this way. They tend to be noisy, so you should have little trouble,” Verde said.

  Chapman studied the map for a moment. It was similar to one they had made their plans with, but with the trail, things were much easier. “Where did you come up with this?” he asked.

  Verde chuckled. “I have a friend who used to be a bigwig in the FARC. He showed me this trail a while back when we took an extended hike together. Unfortunately, you don’t have the time to look at the waterfalls or scenery,” he said.

  “No, time isn’t on our side,” Chapman said. He extended his hand again, “We need to get going.”

  “If you’re lucky, you’ll get to your objective about midafternoon. That should give you time to look the place over before going in. Remember, your transportation won’t really be able to wait long. According to my source, they should be there by 2000. They have to be gone by 2130. That’s not a big window if something goes wrong,” Verde said.

  “Just another reason to get this show on the road. Thanks for the help,” said Chapman. Motioning to his men, they followed him back toward the trees and the trail he had been shown. As one of the men passed, he said “Buenas noches.”

  “Vaya con Dios,” said Verdes, slapping the man on the arm as he passed. He watched in the darkness as the shadows passed and disappeared into the woods. Once they had left, he walked back to where his backpack was and retrieved a box holding the secure satellite radio. He took out a small compass and positioned it so that the antenna was pointing at the proper area of the sky, then turned the unit on. After a moment, a small green LED came on telling him he had a signal. He pressed the transmit key. After hearing the buzz of the encoder, he said, “Capricorn, this is Spotlight. The team is on the way.” There was a response which surprised the man. “When did that get in?” he asked. After receiving a reply, he answered, “This is Spotlight, understood, out.”

  After shutting down the equipment and packing it away, Verdes looked around the area, then looked up into the night sky and swore out loud, angry at the situation. He quickly swept the backpack on his shoulders and rapidly began walking his way back down to his truck. If he hurried, he might just have enough time to warn Rojas.

  Chapman was pleasantly surprised that the path was so clear. He had actually expected to have to hack his way along the mountains, but he and his men were making their way rapidly through the canopy of trees. It was even easier because his men were each wearing a set of the latest night vision goggles, allowing them to proceed as if it were daytime. Each of the men had extra battery packs, but with the latest batch of goggles, a battery would last over six hours. Even with the faint light that occasionally broke through the canopy; they had been able to even see the insects that buzzed constantly around them.

  One hour in, as he had been instructed, he reached up to his ‘super phone’ and began the initiation sequence to open communications. Almost immediately a voice came into his earphone. “Team leader, this is Capricorn. We see you are making excellent progress. You do not have any possibles within five miles. No air traffic. No changes in mission parameters. Eyes on the camp show no real changes. We have eyes on your position and will relay any possibles coming into your area. Do you have questions or requests?”

  Chapman pressed the button on his earphone, “None,” he said.

  “Capricorn out.”

  Chapman triggered his local communications switch. “Mom says we’re alone,” he said. The other men raised their hand in response and continued along the slim path ahead of them. Chapman was proud of his men. Despite the delays, the hard work to get prepared, and now the pitch dark and menacing insects, they were making good progress towards their objective. None complained and none showed any sign of slowing down. It was obvious to him that these men were exactly who were needed to accomplish their mission. He chuckled at himself. He would lead them to a successful conclusion or Ricks would kill him. He had never seen anyone like Ricks. Totally dedicated to his team, he had taught them things Chapman had never thought about. Then he had performed each of the tasks just to show he wasn’t telling them something that wouldn’t work. Not bad for a man with two artificial legs. But the thing that caught Chapman’s attention was that when on mission, Richs was downright frightening. He had a way of getting a job done that commanded 100 percent effort. If not, all Ricks had to do was look at you and you got the message ‘don’t screw this up again.’

  At the same time, Ricks was one of the most patient and helpful men he had met when he was doing his training an
d almost any other non-lethal effort. Just last July 4th, he had been the first to scoop up the little children around him to help them get a better look at the local Independence Day parade. His own sons worshipped him and they were both very smart and polite when meeting others. The dichotomy between the Ricks on mission and the Ricks at home was nothing short of spectacular. Chapman wished he had a hundred more of him in the company.

  Up ahead, he saw Ricks raise a hand, and then he heard, “Richards, point.” Chapman smiled. Anticipating his desires, Ricks was changing the point man every fifteen minutes. This got a fresh set of eyes up front and allowed the other man to relax a bit.

  Chapman glanced at his watch. In another fifteen minutes he would call for a halt and give the men a chance to rest. He figured they had already made three miles. If they kept up this pace, they would be there mid-morning. No use in wearing the men out.

  It felt as if the old Chevy was going to shake itself apart. Throwing caution to the winds, Verdes had floored the engine and was now flying down the dirt roads. Caracas was still over six hours away. Now the old truck bounced over the potholes and flew over the ridges on the road as he pressed it to its limits. The old Chevy didn’t disappoint. The V-6 roared like a lion under the hood. Verdes could tell his old companion would give its all to make sure he got to the city in time.

  Going down the side of one mountain, Verdes could see the sky beginning to lighten. Within a mile or so, he would meet up with one of their ‘highways,’ not more than a two way street back home. But it was pavement and it would mean an even faster speed. Luckily, there were practically no patrols on a highway until you reached a city. There were only two between him and Caracas.

  Suddenly Verdes slammed on the brakes. On the dirt road, it seemed like it was forever before he ground to a halt, right beside the cow that had somehow gotten loose and was standing in the middle of the road. He stared at the bovine through the windshield glass. It stared back, unwilling to move. Cursing under his breath, he got out of the idling truck to shoo it away. Once again the cow ignored him. Only when he slapped it on the rump did it finally ease off the road into some grass on the other side. That was when he found himself illuminated by the lights of a vehicle that was coming from the other direction. The vehicle came to a halt and someone came out of one side.

  “What is going on? Why are you parked in the middle of the road?” asked the man walking up.

  Verdes pointed to the cow, which gave off a long bellow. “He was standing in the middle of the road. It’s a good thing I saw him in the dark or I would have run over him. Stupid animal refused to move,” said Verdes.

  There were calls from the vehicle, which turned out to be an army truck. “Bring it on, we’ll carve it up,” called one man from the back.

  “I love steaks,” cried another.

  The soldier with Verdes told them to keep quiet. “Imagine what would have happened if I had hit it with this truck,” he said to Verdes. He could see a smile on the soldier’s face. “It’s bad enough we have to do some patrols up the way, but to have a wreck with a truck full of men just because a cow refused to move would not make a good day. Thanks for moving it along,” he said.

  The men shook hands and Verdes went back to his truck. As the army vehicle passed, Verdes saw it was filled with men equipped with rifles. I wonder where they’re going, he thought to himself. Getting back in the truck, he started the engine and then moved on at a slower pace. At the same time, he called in to Capricorn that the army was sending troops into the area.

  Chapman stared at the waterfall as the men hiked by. The man Carlos had been right. This was the second waterfall they had passed and it was more breathtaking than he had ever seen. This part of Venezuela was beautiful. The vegetation was lush and the wildlife seemed to have colors all their own. He personally hoped to come back some day and explore this area again at his leisure.

  He forced himself back to the reality of the mission. There was too much to do beside sightsee. You never knew what might come up. At one time in the night, Capricorn had warned them of something up ahead that seemed to be waiting for them. Spreading his men out, they had encircled the area. It turned out the object was not on the ground, but up in the trees. It didn’t have the shape of a human. Only after a growl did they realize it was a panther. The big cat had been watching their approach. Sgt. Miller was called up and took careful aim with his silenced rifle. His shot chipped the branch behind the big cat, startling it, and causing it to move down the tree and away from the group. It could have been a close call.

  Chapman glanced at his ‘super phone.’ The GPS had them already within three miles of his objective and he was starting to think it would all be smooth sailing when a voice came into his earphone. “Team Leader, this is Capricorn. We have been appraised that there are troops heading into the area. We do not see them nearby, but we will be on the lookout. Do you copy?”

  Chapman keyed the switch. “Roger, thank you, out.” He called out to his men, “Stop ahead and take ten.”

  The men raised a hand and in just a minute, all of them had stopped in a small open area. Several of the men sat down and took a draw from their canteens. Chapman got their attention. “I guess you guys heard it. We may have company. Ricks, I want two men on point. Spread out along either side of this trail and keep your eyes open. I don’t know why anybody would be coming in our direction, but let’s not take chances. If we see anybody, we move away from the trail and conceal ourselves as best we can. The idea is to not be seen. We get seen, and the whole thing goes to shit. Time to paint up.”

  The men reached back into their packs and pulled out the camouflaged paint. Taking their time, they covered their face and hands so that they blended with the surrounding vegetation. Several of the men moved back into the brush and pulled up some ferns and other vegetation to place along parts of their uniform and their helmets. Within a few minutes, someone would have a difficult time seeing them just ten feet off the trail.

  In the satellite observation room at the CIA, the team was watching several trucks move up the road toward the objective. They noticed several pull off the road before coming to the compound and several moving further along. One truck actually moved up to the small air strip before disgorging its contents.

  “What the hell are they doing?” one of the analysts asked.

  “Beats me,” said another. “At least we were able to give the guys a warning.”

  Soon they got their answer. They watched as the trucks seemed to spread out around the compound and the men began moving around the area both towards the compound and away from it. “Looks like they’re making a sweep of the area. Are we sure the leak was stopped?” asked the first man.

  “As far as we know,” said a man sitting behind them all. It was evident, he was the supervisor.

  “Well, it looks like they are looking for somebody,” said a third analyst. “Look at this,” he said, pointing to the trail that had been provided by Verdes. There was a small group of three men moving up the trail toward the team. They were just two miles away.

  The supervisor grabbed the microphone, “Team Leader, Capricorn. We have three soldiers making their way along the trail ahead. They are two miles ahead of you moving in your direction. Evade, over.”

  Chapman keyed the mike, “Acknowledged.” He lifted his hand and called for a stop. The men were in a clearing but all around them was thick undergrowth. “Ricks, move the men about fifty yards into the woods on either side. Be ready, but no one engage unless I specifically order it. Move’em out.”

  Ricks sectioned the men and moved them deeper into the undergrowth of the forest. Within minutes, they were all well concealed. Each man unshouldered his weapon and waited. A little over thirty minutes later the three soldiers ambled up the pathway as if there wasn’t a care in the world. They were talking loudly and joking about their predicament. As they came into the clearing, the men stopped and sat back against some trees. Each broke out some food and began eati
ng while they talked.

  “Won’t they be mad that we didn’t go out all the way?” said the youngest man.

  The oldest threw his hands up. “I’ve done this many times. First, we never find anyone along this way. Second, nobody checks to see if we go the entire five miles. Third, just because our leader wants to have these little rituals, does not mean we have to suffer for it. So just sit back and enjoy the morning. We show back up at the truck around two and no one will be the wiser,” he said as he broke off some more bread and popped it into his mouth.

  “What do we do after we get back?” asked the young man.

  The older man shrugged. “We’ll be stationed along the road to make sure no one gets up to the ceremonial ground where El Presidente will be having his little fun. Once it’s over, we all get back on the trucks and go back to base. It’s not hard, just a pain in the ass,” said the older man.

  The younger man stood and shouldered his weapon. “I want to walk around some,” he said.

  The third man chuckled. “Just don’t get eaten. There are the snakes, then the panthers, a few eagles and a few dozen other animals that might want you for a snack,” he laughed.

  The younger man got a slightly frightened look on his face, but still moved away down the trail. After 100 yards or so, he turned back and started heading into the brush.

  “Where are you going?” one called out.

  “Just looking around,” the young man said as he moved cautiously through the brush.

  Ricks watched the young man as he walked along, fanning the ferns and grasses in front of him. Slowly he was making his way to his position. Ricks slowly reached along his leg and retrieved a long knife. He detested using the thing ever since he had been forced to use the one early in the war with Korea. But like that time, he didn’t seem to have any choice.