by Harold Coyle
Good, Blasio thought. At least they had stopped referring to them as
"the Mexican bird" as if it were a strange and foreign creature.
"Cruising at one hundred knots, and flying at an altitude of one hundred feet above ground level, they'll go in using contour flying. That will put them on the LZ, here, west of San Lazaro, at 2210 hours. Once the captain, one pathfinder team, and the colonel are on the ground, those aircraft will move to the rally point, here, and wait."
Using a map behind him, the colonel traced the routes he was discussing as he went, tapping the map at the proper location with a small collapsible silver pointer when he mentioned a point of interest. "The captain, with an RTO, and Colonel Guajardo with a guide, will move along the dismounted approach to recon the route and the bandito base in advance of the main body. The pathfinder team that they dropped off will mark the LZ and provide security, while the second pathfinder team will mark the rally point when they get there. At 2200 hours, the main body, under Lieutenant Kozak, will depart in the three vanilla Blackhawks, followed by the air ambulance. Using the same route, speed, and altitude, they will hit the LZ at 2310. Any questions or problems so far?"
A warrant officer, seated in the front, raised his hand. "Excuse me, sir.
But why, may I ask, are we dumping the grunts that far away from the camps, and in the south? It seems to me that it would make sense to either just go zooming in there and drop everyone in the middle of the camp, or, if they wanted to go in quietly, drop them off north of the camps, using the hills there to cover our approach."
"You're right. Both of those solutions are the most direct and the most obvious. That's why we're doing what we are. It appears, if the information that the Mexicans gave us is correct, that the banditos have already considered both of your approaches and are prepared to meet them." Referring to a small green notebook and pointing to the map, the colonel located known enemy positions for the assembled pilots. "There are three .50-caliber machine guns, here, here, and here. There are at least two surface-to-air missiles at each of those locations. From these positions, the banditos can fire down on any helicopter making a direct approach into either camp. Observation posts, here and here, would give them ample warning of our approach from the north. From those OPs, they can see everything as far north as Santa Teresa. Odds of our being able to sneak up on them, even in the dark, are nil. And since we suspect the hostages are in Bandito Base East, it is pointless to go around the hills to the west and through Bandito Base West first or directly over the hills and through the OPs and machine-gun positions. Both options would require fighting and give the banditos an opportunity to dispose of the hostages. While the approach march will take longer, it gives us the best chance of surprise."
The colonel waited for any more questions, scanning the gathering of pilots as he did so. Though Blasio understood the tactics, he had no idea what the difference between a vanilla Blackhawk and a regular Black hawk was. This, however, was not the time for such a trivial question.
Perhaps, he thought, he could find out after the briefing without making his ignorance too obvious.
"Captain Cerro is leaving five hours for the five-kilometer march over the hill, through the saddle, and down into the valley where the bandito bases are. Though they may not need that much time, the going may prove rough, especially since we will have less than twenty-percent illumination tonight. The actual raid, which should take less than thirty minutes, start to finish, will commence sometime after 0400 hours, just before dawn. Therefore we need to be ready to pull pitch, at a moment's notice, from 0400 on. Right now, the plan is to pick everyone up at the PZ, here. The situation on the ground, and the condition of the hostages, however, may dictate that we go right into the bandito bases in order to extract them. If we do--I say again, if we do--make sure your flares are armed and ready. The banditos have both SA-7 and Redeye surface-to-air missiles here, on the hill to the north overlooking their base."
Blasio took in a deep breath. His helicopter had no flare dispensers with which to spoof the heat-seeking missiles. If he was engaged by one, he would have only speed, radical maneuvers, and luck to protect him.
Nervously, the colonel tapped his small silver pointer against his leg as he added another word of caution. "The only jokers in the deck will be the Apaches. They will be working independently, coming into the area of operation just before 0400 and taking up positions near the LZ. From there, they will respond to requests for fire support from the ground force commander. This may include the supression of enemy ground fire when we go in for the ground force. That means they can be anywhere. So keep your eyes and ears open. You need to pay attention to where the Apaches are and what they are doing because once they start engaging, they won't have time to look out for us." ,
Finished, the American colonel collapsed his pointer by pushing the point into the palm of his left hand. "If all goes well, we'll be back in time for breakfast. Gentlemen, and ladies, what are your questions?"
For a few seconds, everyone looked at their notes, their maps, and each other. When he saw that no one was going to ask a question, the colonel wished them luck and dismissed the group. As everyone stood and prepared to leave, Blasio looked around to where the Blackhawks were parked. Determined to find out what a vanilla Blackhawk was, he turned to a young aviator next to him. "Excuse me. But would it be possible to see one of your magnificent machines? I have heard so much about them but have never had the opportunity to see one up close."
The young warrant officer looked at Blasio, and then the colonel who had conducted the briefing. The colonel looked at Blasio, then back to the warrant. "Sure, Tim, go ahead."
Like a child freed to show off his toy, the young warrant smiled. "If you would come this way, Lieutenant, I'll give you the nickel tour."
25.
The onset of bayonets in the hands of the valiant is irresistible.
--Major General John Burgoyne
4 kilometers southeast of ejido de dolores, mexico 0415 hours, 20 September
Their approach march up the hill from the LZ, through the saddle between the two peaks, down the hill, and finally to the easternmost mercenary base camp had been more difficult than Cerro had expected. The time he had allotted for that movement, five hours, had seemed more than sufficient when he had looked at the map back at the division main command post. Now, as Cerro looked at his watch, he realized he wouldn't be able to meet his original schedule. He would be hard pressed to conduct his recon to find out where the hostages were, get back to where Kozak was holding her platoon, and lead the platoon into the base camp before dawn.
Not that it mattered, he thought. He had no pressing engagements back at the division CP. Besides, an attack just after dawn was, given the circumstances, not a bad idea. The idea of attack helicopters zipping all over the place, trying to provide fire support, at night, bothered Cerro.
Though he knew the pilots and gunners were good, and the Apaches had dynamite thermal sights, Cerro also knew that people, in the weird green and black image created by a thermal sight, all look the same. In the daylight the Apache gunners would be able to use their daylight sights and look before they shot. At least, he hoped they would. There was, Cerro knew, no way of predicting what the rotorheads would do.
Ready to leave the cover of the gully they had been crawling in for the past thirty minutes, Cerro looked back at Colonel Guajardo and nodded.
It was time for Guajardo and his "guide" to take the lead.
Pulling the tape from Lefleur's mouth, Guajardo looked at him and whispered his warning again, just in case Lefleur had forgotten. "Cooperate, and you will see the sun. Cross me, and you are a dead man. Do we understand each other?"
Lefleur, wiping his mouth, nodded.
Removing his pistol from its holster, Guajardo pointed toward the base camp. "After you, my friend."
With Lefleur in the lead, followed by Guajardo, then Cerro, and finally, Fast Eddie, the four men rose up out of the gull
y and began to move toward the rear of the building that Lefleur had identified as a cantina. Located on the eastern side of what everyone called Bandito Base East, the cantina was used as a mess hall for the mercenaries. On the south side of the camp, a large storage shed and machine shop served as billets for most of the mercenaries. An administrative building, on the western side of camp, was used by their leader, Delapos, as a headquarters as well as for additional billeting space.
While Guajardo was interested in the administrative building, where Delapos would be asleep, Cerro's attention was riveted on the tool shed and garage on the northern side of the base camp. It was in these buildings, according to Lefleur, that the American hostages had been put.
Cerro's task, during the recon, was to confirm that. If he could, it would make life so much easier when Kozak and her platoon came tearing into the camp. Perhaps, Cerro thought, with a little luck, some of Kozak's people could even secure the hostages before the shooting began. In that case, it would be a simple matter of putting Kozak's platoon in a line abreast and marching them into the bandito base, shooting everyone in front of them as they went.
Upon reaching the rear of the cantina, the four men flattened themselves against the wall and crouched to catch their breath and listen for the movement of any guards. After waiting a minute, Guajardo turned to Cerro. "Well, my young companion, this is where we must part."
Even in the dark shadow of the cantina, Guajardo could see the shocked expression on Cerro's face. It was only with the greatest effort that Cerro kept his voice down. '"What do you mean?"
"I am, my young friend, after their leader. I cannot take the chance that we will be able to find him and keep him alive once your lovely lieutenant and her men begin shooting. So, I am taking our guide and leaving to find and secure Senior Delapos, for safekeeping. You understand, of course."
Cerro couldn't believe it. The colonel, he realized, had been planning this the entire time. The bastard. The fucking bastard. Well, Cerro thought, two can play hardball. "No, I do not. That was not the plan.
You, Colonel, must understand that if you go jerking around in the dark, on your own, I cannot be responsible for your safety. When the shooting starts, I cannot guarantee that you, your guide, and your hostage won't be hit by friendly fire."
Guajardo nodded. "I understand. But I am sure you will do your best. Vaya con Dios."
Without another word, Guajardo grabbed Lefleur by the collar and pushed him ahead of him out into the open and toward the rear of the storage building. Fast Eddie, who hadn't heard the conversation between Cerro and Guajardo, leaned forward and whispered in Cerro's ear,
"Where they goin', sir?"
Disgusted, tired, and momentarily flustered, Cerro mumbled a curse Fast Eddie didn't hear, then over his shoulder, he whispered, "They're off playing,cowboys."
When Cerro turned his attention back to his front, Fast Eddie thought about Cerro's response. He had no idea what the captain meant. He didn't remember anyone mentioning anything about the Mexican doing his own recon. Not that it mattered. Fast Eddie reminded himself that he was, after all, only a grunt. Nobody ever told him anything. All he was expected to do was carry the radio and follow the captain.
2 kilometers southeast of bandito base east, mexico 0420 hours, 20 September
They were late. As Kozak looked at her watch, she realized that they still had two kilometers to go. If everything had gone well with Captain Cerro's recon, and she had no reason to suspect that it hadn't, he would be waiting for her and her platoon, at that moment, at the designated jumpoff point just east of the enemy base camp. Unless they did something soon, there was no way that they could make it to the jumpoff point, get Cerro's briefing on the layout of the camp, and attack before dawn.
A decision had to be made. Another one of those one-time-only, guesswrong-and-die decisions.
Throwing her right hand up over her shoulder, palm out, she signaled her platoon to halt. Like a ripple, starting with the man behind her, every man repeated the motion, then squatted, watching to either the left or right as he waited for further instructions. Only Staff Sergeant Maupin, the platoon sergeant, kept going. Turning to the man following him and telling him to stay, Maupin worked his way up the file of men to where Kozak, at the head of the column, stood looking to the north and west.
When he reached her, he looked around in the same directions, then leaned over and whispered, "What's up, LT?"
Looking toward the base camp, its buildings barely visible in the distance, she sighed. "We're late."
Maupin looked at his watch. "Took longer than the captain thought.
He's probably late too."
Kozak shook her head. "Can't count on that. If we don't get moving fast, we'll never be in place and ready to attack before dawn."
Maupin was about to ask what she intended to do, but he realized that she was already considering her options. So he stood next to her and waited.
He thought about offering her his advice, but decided not to. Ever since their deployment from Fort Hood south to the Mexican border, she had called everything right. Even Rivera had been surprised how well she had done, commenting to Maupin after the incident in Nuevo Laredo that second lieutenants just didn't come any better. So Maupin simply watched her and waited.
Seeing no signs of anything that looked like an outpost between them and the base camp, and remembering the French mercenary's comment that most of their attention was oriented to the north and west, Kozak decided to take a chance, a big one. She turned to Maupin. "Okay, Sergeant Maupin. We're getting out of this ditch and double-time down to the jump-off point. Wedge formation once we're in the open. First Squad in the center, 2nd Squad on the left, 3rd to the right. Place one machine gun each with both 2nd and 3rd squads. I'll lead, you take up drag. Pass the word."
Without hesitation, Maupin turned and prepared to move back down the column to relay Kozak's order to the squad leaders, when Kozak reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "And Sergeant Maupin, pass the word. Fix bayonets."
Bandito Base East, Mexico
0422 hours, 20 September
When they finally reached the rear of the administrative building, both Guajardo and Lefleur paused to catch their breath. After he had done so, Lefleur, twisting his head around, whispered over his shoulder to Gua jardo, "This is the rear door. Inside, a corridor runs through the building to the front. Two rooms on each side of the corridor. Delapos uses the second one to the right as an office. He also sleeps in there." Lefleur turned his head back and waited. He had, he knew, fulfilled his end of their bargain. He had led Guajardo to where Delapos was. Now, he waited for the Mexican to let him go, as he had said he would.
What he would do, once .freed and a safe distance from the Mexican, was a good question, one that Lefleur had been pondering all night. The Mexican, with an HK-53 submachine gun, which he carried slung across his back, as well as the 9mm pistol he had held at Lefleur's back as they moved to the admin building, was too well armed to take on. At least, right away. No, Lefleur thought, it would be pointless to risk his life right there, in such an uneven fight. He would wait. And, he thought, if a chance to take out the Mexican didn't come, it was no loss. He had, after all, been paid in advance.
The gleam of a blade flashing in front of his face caught Lefleur's attention just as Guajardo's left hand came around and clamped down on his
mouth. In a single, smooth motion, Guajardo jerked Lefleur's head back and onto his left shoulder as he brought the bayonet in his right hand across in front of Lefleur's face. Pressing the bayonet against the skin just under Lefleur's left ear, Guajardo jerked to the right, using all of his strength to rip Lefleur's throat open, just above the wind pipe, from ear to ear. The only sound Lefleur made was a gurgling sound as blood from his severed artery mixed with the air escaping his lungs through the slit in his neck. For an instant, Lefleur's body jerked, then stiffened in shock and surprise. When he finally went limp, Guajardo removed his hand from Lefleur's mout
h, allowing the body to fall in a heap at his" feet.
After looking around to see if his action had attracted any unwanted attention, Guajardo bent over Lefleur's body. Pulling Lefleur's shirttail out of his pants, Guajardo first used it to wipe the blood from his bayonet before returning the.bayonet to its scabbard. Then he wiped Lefleur's blood off his hands as best he could. He looked around again as he unslung his submachine gun and pulled the bolt of his weapon back.
Ready, he stepped over Lefleur's body and entered the administrative building.
Once inside, Guajardo paused, flattening himself against the wall to his left while he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the building's interior. Within seconds, he could make out the four doors Lefleur had spoken of. At the end of the corridor, under the door of the room that Lefleur had indicated Delapos used for his office, there was light coming out. Guajardo could see something blocking the light under the door every now and then. Someone was up and moving around in the room.
Keeping his back against the wall and his submachine gun trained on Delapos's door, Guajardo began to move down the corridor. As he passed a door behind him, he glanced back for a split second, then returned his attention to the door where the light was coming from. When he was finally standing across from it, he steadied his submachine gun in his right hand while he slowly reached across the corridor for the doorknob with his left. Once he had a firm grip on it, he slowly began to turn the doorknob, listening for any sound and watching the light under the door.
When it would turn no more, he froze and listened a little longer. Taking several deep breaths, he prepared to go in.
Delapos was bent over, reaching down to pull up his trousers, when the door to his room flew open. Looking up, he was startled to see a tall soldier, dressed in tiger-striped camouflage fatigues and training a submachine gun on him, standing in the doorway. Like a statue, Delapos froze, watching the man with the submachine gun as he took a quick step into the room, then a step to the right, closing the door with his left hand and holding the submachine gun in his right. Easing himself back so that he was leaning against the wall, the man with the submachine gun brought his left hand up to the front hand guard of the weapon before he motioned for Delapos to stand up by wiggling the barrel of the gun up and down.
