Kate wasn't buying it. "I think they did mean something. You might not understand but I've faced crap like that my entire career."
Riley looked her in the eyes. "Let me tell you something about not understanding. You're right. I don't understand what you've had to face as a woman trying to make it. But I do understand what it's like to have people look at you and judge you on what you look like rather than who you are. I don't know which is worse or harder: being a woman or being half Puerto Rican from the South Bronx. Probably neither. They're just different. But I've had my share of the bullshit, too."
Kate backed off. She didn't need to antagonize the one person who seemed to care. "I'm sorry. It's just that it caught me off guard."
Riley seemed to relax and laughed. "If you're going to deal with these people you can't let your guard down and you can't back off. They respect strength and competence. They're like vultures, though, if they sense any weakness. I don't think you're going to have any problem."
She nodded. She knew she could hold her own. She'd done it for seven years in the male-dominated corridors at Langley. It was just that having to be constantly on guard was draining. She couldn't concentrate on just the job. "Thanks. I appreciate it." She felt slightly uncomfortable talking about herself and decided to change the subject. "All the equipment satisfactory?"
Riley led her back into the planning room. "Yeah. Everything looks good to go. We'll run some more rehearsals and do a couple of internal briefbacks to make sure everybody knows what they need to do, then we'll be ready to go." He looked at his watch. "We're going to do a practice briefback tonight at 1900 after we meet with Pike. You're welcome to sit in on it. Probably learn something."
"I'll do that. See you then."
Kate turned and walked out into the hallway. She wanted to head over to the imagery people at Langley and get the latest satellite photos before the evening meeting with General Pike.
Before going out of the building, she stopped in the lone bathroom on the first floor. Someone had hung a cardboard sign on the door. She flipped it over to occupied and went in. The first sight that greeted her was a centerfold from some men's magazine hanging on the wall. Her immediate reaction was to tear it down, or go back and tell Riley to have them take it down. Then she reconsidered. That would be just what they wanted. There were better ways to handle things.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Attention!"
Riley popped to his feet as Powers's voice boomed through the isolation area. Riley stood in front of a folding metal chair, with the other members of Eyes One stretched off to his left along the cinder block wall that made up one side of the room. Across from Riley, the windows facing the parking lot were covered with butcher block paper to prevent anyone from seeing in. Seated in front of the windows, facing him, were the members of Eyes Two.
Separating and perpendicular to the two teams, a dozen chairs were set up. It was to these chairs that General Pike was leading the two people to whom the upcoming briefing was to be given. The "briefback" was a tenet of Special Forces operations that was unique in the army. Most army units issued operations orders for missions and even briefed the plan, but few took the time, or had the expertise at such a low unit level, to prepare a briefback comparable to what Special Forces A-Teams put together.
Riley studied the newcomers out of the corners of his eyes as he stood at a rigid position of attention. The chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Macksey, led the way and took the center chair facing the front of the room, where the maps for both missions were displayed, tacked onto pieces of plywood. Flanking the chairman, on his left, was a three-star air force general. Westland was seated in the center of the second row right behind General Macksey.
Riley was surprised that there were only three people present for the briefback. He had expected a hoard of aides and self-appointed important people. The small number was another fact, added to the events of the last several days, to convince him that somebody was very serious about security for this mission.
Pike went to the wood podium set up in front of the maps. He waited while Macksey ran his eyes over both teams, still standing. Finally, General Macksey introduced his companion. "Gentlemen, this is General Linders. He's the man on my staff who is responsible for Special Operations."
Macksey took his seat and growled at the team members, "Take your seats, gentlemen." He turned to Pike. "Let's get this show on the road."
Pike nodded. "Sir, you'll be receiving an operational briefback from both teams, Eyes One and Eyes Two. Mister Riley is the commander of Eyes One and he'll start."
Riley walked to the front of the room. He had been nervous before the briefing, knowing that the people he was addressing were, as Powers put it, echelons above God from an army perspective. But now that he was about to start, his nervousness abated and he felt confident. They had a good plan and, more importantly, each member of the team had committed the plan to memory. It was just a question of letting Macksey and Linders know that.
"Good morning, General Macksey, General Linders." Riley nodded to the two officers. "I'm Chief Warrant Officer Riley, commander of Eyes One. This briefing is classified top secret. Eyes One's mission is to infiltrate operational area Harkon, located here in the vicinity of Cartagena, Colombia, at 0230 Zulu time, 29 August, and destroy target Nail One, at 0930 Zulu. The purpose of this mission is to verify and designate for destruction a suspected cocaine laboratory located there. We will be exfiltrated at 1038 Zulu time, 29 August."
Riley halted at Macksey's raised finger. "Yes, sir."
"The time zone down there is the same as here, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir. Sierra time zone."
"So we're talking minus five hours from Zulu to convert to local."
"Yes, sir."
"So you're talking in at 2130 and out by 0538 local. All in darkness. Good. All right, continue."
Riley gestured toward his split team. "Sir, I'd like to introduce the members of Eyes One and give you a brief operational overview. I'll then be followed by the members of the team, each briefing their own specialized areas.
"Master Sergeant Powers is the team sergeant." Powers rose to attention as he was introduced, as did each succeeding team member. Riley watched the general inspect each man as his name was called.
Riley then stepped out from behind the podium and began his description of the operation. He spoke from memory, without referring to notes, and used a pointer in conjunction with the map to highlight a location or route he described. "The concept of the operation for this mission is as follows: Eyes One will depart Fort Belvoir army airfield tomorrow at 1900 Zulu. The flight…"
Riley paused as the air force general, Linders, whispered something to Macksey, who nodded and addressed Riley. "I appreciate your using Zulu time, since that's the proper way to do it, but since everything is in the same time zone, for the purposes of this briefing, let's keep it local. All right, Mister Riley?"
"Yes, sir." Zulu time was used because Special Forces operations usually cut across several time zones, and to prevent confusion and aid coordination, all parties worked off of Greenwich mean time, commonly referred to as Zulu time. But if the general wanted local, the general got local.
"We depart the airfield here at 1400 local. The flight will take approximately seven and a half hours to reach the infiltration point. There will be one in-flight refuel of our C-130 aircraft by a KC-10 tanker en route.
"Our high-altitude release point, or HARP, is here, approximately fifteen kilometers from our primary drop zone, DZ Hatter, which is here. The release point may have to be adjusted depending on weather, most particularly winds aloft. We will coordinate that with the crew before takeoff and en route.