He circled behind each team member's chair as he introduced them, starting with the captain. "This is Captain Vaughn, the detachment commander. He's responsible for everything the detachment does and fails to do." Vaughn stood up briefly as he was introduced, as did each succeeding team member. The captain, standing only five foot five, was the only person on the team Riley could look down upon. The captain's clipped red hair and pug nose made him look even younger than his twenty-seven years.
"Master Sergeant Powers is the team sergeant. He's the senior noncommissioned officer on the team and also the operations sergeant. He is responsible for the detachment's training and is the primary tactical planner for the team."
Powers was the only true combat veteran on 055, although Riley had been on several classified missions involving live fire. Powers was physically the strongest member of the team, but he was also slightly overweight. Nevertheless, Riley knew that the senior NCO could hold his own in the field. Riley had never seen his team sergeant falter because of his weight. Powers was a calming influence on some of the younger members, and his hard-earned combat experience from Vietnam made him invaluable. Riley circled behind the bulk of the team sergeant standing easily in front of his chair.
"Sergeant Lane is a weapons sergeant." Gus Lane, the weapons man, was young and inexperienced. But he made up for that with an intense dedication to his job. Lane had light skin and a head topped with short, crew-cut blond hair. He boasted a compact, muscular body and stood three inches taller than Riley at five foot ten inches.
"Staff Sergeant Marzan is a communications sergeant." Hosea Marzan could easily pass for a native in most South and Central American countries. His dark skin and Spanish looks had hooked him more than enough girls out in Fayetteville, the local town off Fort Bragg. Riley appreciated Marzan's steadiness and maturity. On top of that, he was an experienced communications man and could be relied on to do the job.
"Sergeant Holder is an engineer." Bern Holder, the engineer/demolitions man, was relatively inexperienced. He'd joined Special Forces two years ago, coming over from the engineer battalion in the 82d Airborne. Riley liked the young man because he was so earnest. He always tried hard, even though he often failed — not out of any lack of trying but because, as Riley reluctantly had to admit to himself, the man was a few slices short of a full loaf upstairs. Holder had made it through the qualification course on sheer guts and fortitude. Riley figured a man could break his way through any wall with his head if he hit the wall enough times and didn't mind the pain. That's what he thought of when he considered Holder. Not too bright but willing to try hard.
"Staff Sergeant Partusi is the medic." The last member of the old team present, Frank Partusi had been on 055 longer than Riley. Partusi was as swift as Holder was slow. The man was a damn genius as a medic. Riley had watched him perform minor surgery and been extremely impressed. Partusi had spent two years in medical school before coming to Special Forces and had joined up because he enjoyed the challenge of being a Special Forces medic. He was planning on getting out when his present hitch was up next year and going back to medical school.
Riley introduced the first enlisted member attachment to the team. "This is Sergeant First Class Alexander. He is the detachment's intelligence sergeant and works with me on intelligence matters." Alexander came to the team with a relatively good reputation after a stint as an instructor with the Operations and Intelligence School staff at the Special Warfare Center. Or at least that was what Powers had told Riley. Riley would reserve judgment until he had some evidence.
"This is Sergeant First Class Paulson. He's another weapons man. The weapons men are responsible for all individual and crew-served weapons the detachment may use or train indigenous forces on." Paulson was a thickset man who looked as though he had some SF experience. But all the new men were unknown quantities as far as Riley was concerned. The only way to really tell how good they were was to do something for real and see how they reacted.
"This is Sergeant Atwaters, the detachment's junior communications sergeant. He and Sergeant Marzan are responsible for maintaining a secure communication link between the detachment and our support base and for all aspects of communications planning." Atwaters had rubbed Riley the wrong way at their first meeting the previous day. The young E-5 was the caricature of the southern redneck. He was of medium height, sported stringy black hair just shy of being too long for regulations, and had a loud, obnoxious manner.
"This is Sergeant Hale, the senior engineer. The engineers are responsible for target assessment and demolitions planning." Hale seemed competent. He was a skinny, black six-footer. He had talked little in the last twenty-four hours but Riley sensed he was observing everything. Riley liked that in a man.
"Staff Sergeant Colden, the junior medic. The medics are responsible for the health of the detachment." Colden seemed to be Atwaters's running buddy. The two had graduated from the same Q-course. Colden was a lean man, given to chewing tobacco, a habit Riley hated.
Riley turned to the two guests. "Both of you are probably unfamiliar with working with army, never mind Special Forces troops. In Special Forces we tend to be a bit more relaxed about rank and all that than the rest of the army is. We also try to use everyone's brainpower to the utmost. That's why all twelve of us are sitting in on this meeting and not just the commander and executive officer."
Or at least that's the way it's supposed to be, Riley thought to himself. With a new detachment commander things might change. However, Riley didn't think Pike would let anything too outrageous happen. Pike had been around Special Operations even longer than Powers and had forgotten more things about running missions than Riley had ever known.
"From what we've been told so far, we'll be operating in a split team mode for this operation. That means we split each pair of specialists and make two teams out of the one you see before you." Riley returned to his seat.
"Thanks, Dave." Pike turned to the other two people attending. "Why don't you introduce yourselves."
The CIA led off. "I'm Agent Westland. I'm from the Latin American section. My area of specialty is Colombia and Panama and I have traveled to both countries several times. I speak Spanish and Portuguese fluently.
"Basically, until now I've been an intelligence analyst collating and summarizing raw information about those two countries into intelligence." In other words, Riley thought to himself, she was a desk jockey and not a field agent. In his opinion that was probably an asset. They sure didn't need one of the field heroes with an ego the size of a 747 whom he had met on other missions.
Westland continued. "I'm here to provide you targeting intelligence and logistics support. I'll be working with you for the duration of this project. I've brought with me as much information on Colombia as I could track down in the short amount of time I had. I also have the first two potential target locations along with supporting imagery." She sat back down.
Stevens got up. "I'm Rich Stevens. I am… was… the Drug Enforcement Agency's embassy liaison in Colombia. I've been brought up here to assist you in any way you desire. I've been in Colombia seven months on this tour. Four years ago, I did a two-year stint there. I can give you some background on the drug situation down there whenever you want. Also, I've brought pictures of drug labs that were raided during Operation Blast Furnace, to give you an idea of what you'll be looking for." Stevens returned to his chair.
Pike nodded. "All right. Now that we know each other, let's get to work." He turned to Vaughn. "Captain, I'll let you work out a schedule for the isolation. I will need at least a brief concept of operations from you by tomorrow night. The key things I'll need are infiltration and exfiltration means and how you propose the target be destroyed. I'll be able to give you some potential weapons systems and means of target destruction when I get back from the Pentagon early this afternoon, but for now basically consider every system in the armed forces at your disposal." Pike collected his briefcase and left the room.