Houghland was climbing in afterburner when Dash Two keyed his radio. "Message sent — message received."
"Say again," Houghland said. "They're coming about, heading home."
Hollywood turned his head to look at the ships. "Good decision." The two F-14S closed on Houghland's Tomcat. "It's time for a lunch break," Two radioed.
"You have the lead," Houghland calmly radioed back. "Take us home to Mother."
After a fairly short conversation, Cord Macklin placed the phone receiver in its cradle and turned to Hartwell Prost and Brad Austin. "President Cardenas is fully supportive of our grounding his air force. He seemed relieved that only eight people were killed. He understands the gravity of the situation and the urgency of our conference. He'll meet with us early tomorrow afternoon in Corpus Christi."
"Did he balk about restructuring his military?" Prost asked. "He knew what I was alluding to, but he glossed over it." Austin looked up. "I have a sense he will give the idea serious consideration. He left me with the impression that he would truly like to reform his country, but he can only tinker at the edges as long as the corrupt generals are calling the shots. The military star chamber has to be toppled. The culture in the military and in law enforcement has to be changed before anything meaningful can happen."
Macklin glanced at his watch. "We'll deal with that after we have the border problem completely under control. I know this is a spur-of-the-moment trip, but I want to keep a lid on it. We'll use a smaller aircraft and a skeleton crew — no press and no leaks."
"We'll take care of it," Austin said.
The USS Nimitz battle group was close enough to the North Arabian Sea to launch long-range strikes on a number of targets. Terrorist facilities were being pounded in five countries, and more targets were being added to the list.
The sailors and marines aboard the ships in the Nimitz, Washington, and Stennis battle groups had little time for recreation or breaking news stories. When they were not working eighteen-hour shifts or eating three or four meals a day they were sleeping.
The relatively few who had time to pay attention to world events knew about the howls and shrieks emanating from the United Nations headquarters in New York, the International Criminal Court, European capitals, Human Rights Watch, and U. S. "allies" and diplomats from every nook and cranny on the planet. The U. S.-led war on terrorism was being characterized as "unilateral imperialism."
Predictably, after the bombing of the Mexican Air Force bases, the die-hard media had gone into hollow-eyed shock before responding in unity. There was a massive eruption of name-calling and derisive attacks directed squarely at President Macklin and his administration.
The primary units of the Mexican Army consisted of a handful of brigades based around the Federal District that encompasses the Mexico City area. Along with independent regiments and infantry battalions, the brigades were preparing to move north to the U. S. Mexico border.
The destruction of the air bases had set off a frenzy of anger within the military. Chaos reigned for the first few hours until senior officers began arriving in the Federal District.
A majority of Mexican generals and admirals had a sense of trepidation about hostilities with the United States. Many viewed the call to arms as patently stupid and suicidal. Others, political aspirants in generals uniforms, argued that personal and national pride should carry the day.
The debate mattered not. The secretary of national defense, a corrupt active-duty army general appointed by the previous president, had made his decision. The only way the general could protect his power would be to confront the Americans. President Juan Cardenas had not been consulted, a deliberate insult that was intended to convey a message.
The Mexican military would confront the United States, the country that had stolen the southwestern U. S. from Mexico. The Mexican armed forces would defend the country's honor and protect her borders. The senior general would accomplish two goals: protect his future fortunes in drug trafficking and render Cardenas impotent.
Chapter 29
Scott parked his rare Ferrari 275 GTB Spider, stepped out, and walked around to open Jackie's door. They were two minutes early when he rang the doorbell. Each was surprised when Hartwell Prost personally opened the massive door.
"Come in," Hartwell said, as he shook hands with Scott and Jackie. "I trust youve had dinner."
"Actually," Scott said, "were planning a late dinner in Georgetown."
"Thats good, because I had to dine on leftovers this evening."
"Where are Zachary and Molly?" Jackie asked.
"Zachary is on holiday, and Molly had to take a few days off to tend to her mother. Let's go out to the veranda."
Jackie and Scott followed Hartwell and took a seat on the lounge. Their host poured each of them a glass of wine.
"The president and I want to thank you — congratulate you — for your efforts in capturing Khaliq Farkas and finding the nukes." Hartwell raised his glass. "We re grateful."
"Glad we could help," Scott said.
Jackie placed her glass on the table. "Did he survive?"
"Barely. He's in critical condition. We hope to begin questioning him in a few days — at least by next week."
Prost paused to light a cigar.
"It was coincidental that President Macklin and I were discussing a new course of action when we received your message about Farkas. As you may know, the CIA has created a new super-secret hit team to target terrorists abroad. It's a paramilitary unit that conducts covert operations directly under the command of the Agency's counterterrorism center. The number of people on the team, their weaponry, and the location of their base are highly classified."
Scott had a question. "No congressional oversight?"
"Very little. The president's signed intelligence order, including the authority to use lethal force, expands a previous presidential finding. If Congress knew, it would be leaked, no question about it, and the lives of many brave people would unnecessarily be placed in jeopardy. Therefore, briefings are limited to the two ranking Democrats and Republicans from the intelligence committee of each chamber."
"Will the unit be able to operate anywhere in the world?" Jackie asked.
"For the most part. They will be free to disrupt, capture, or destroy terrorists in over eighty countries."
Scott had a question. "Does this have anything to do with the new assignment you mentioned?"
"Yes, one I hope you 11 consider." Prost smiled reassuringly. "We believe you could bring another dimension to the covert operation: the ability to gather the ground truth from human sources. We dont want different factions competing on the same mission."
"Fm not sure I understand," Jackie said.
Prost looked her in the eye. "We want you to track Saeed Shayhidi, find him, capture him, or kill him."
Jackie and Scott were quiet for a moment before Scott spoke. "You want us to assassinate Shayhidi?"
Prost shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Well, let's say we want you to find him and give us his coordinates to allow precision air strikes."
Jackie looked up, her eyes quizzing Prost. "Do we have any idea where Shayhidi is, the last known contact?"
"We've traced his charter flight from Siem Reap, Cambodia, to Geneva. A chartered jet left Cambodia a short time after our people went to the hotel where Shayhidi had been staying. He left so fast he didn't check out or take his clothes." His tone of voice hardened. "Shayhidi has been making a fool out of us. I'm embarrassed for the CIA, and President Macklin is beyond being upset, to put it mildly."
Prost paused and gazed across the grounds. "Geneva, his business headquarters, is where we would like you to begin. We, the president and I, need you to find him, whatever you have to do."