"Go ahead and illuminate."
Partusi looked through the sight and zeroed in on the main building. He turned on the designator and the invisible laser beam touched the building. Riley cocked his head to listen. The gunship was so far up he couldn't hear the drone of its engine. He smiled grimly. They'd be hearing it loud and clear soon enough.
Riley grabbed the handset. "Hammer this is Eyes One. Over."
"This is Hammer. Over."
"Have you got the target? Over."
"Roger. We've got it. Give me the dimensions of the target area, since I can't make it all out under the trees. Over."
Riley scanned the target through his goggles as he calculated. "From the point we're designating you've got approximately a hundred meters north, sixty meters south, sixty meters east, and the airstrip as your left limit. The designated point is your main target building. Over."
"We'll put the big one on the designated point. We'll use our other stuff all around the target in a grid pattern, working from the perimeter in, so no bad guys get away. I've got your location on the thermals, so don't be worried if some of the stuff seems kind of close. Over."
"Roger. We're ready when you are. Over."
"We'll commence firing on my count of five. One. Two. Three. Four…"
Hearing the five, Riley squeezed Lane's ankle with his free hand. The crack of Lane's .50-caliber sniper rifle and Powers's AK-47 were lost in the roar as four lines of light extended from the sky above and ended in the compound. Each line represented a rope of bullets that tore through the sky and slashed into the earth. Intermingled was the crump of the howitzer pumping out a 105mm artillery shell every two seconds.
During previous training with the air force's 1st Special Operations Wing, Riley had heard the Spectre gunship crews boast they could put a round into every two square inches of a football field in twenty seconds. Now he believed them. The buildings were disintegrating before his eyes as 40mm cannon shells tore through them. The 20mm rounds were puffing up clods of dirt every few inches as they quartered the ground, thirsting for targets. Both walking guards had already gone down. The 105mm shells were blasting the main factory building. Riley winced as the chemicals ignited and a secondary explosion tore the night sky.
After only thirty seconds, Riley found it hard to imagine that anything could still be alive. All four guards were down for sure. It was difficult to make out where the buildings had stood only moments before. Small fires burned and secondary explosions still ripped through the area. Riley leaned over and put his head next to Lane's. "You have any movement?"
"Hell, no. There isn't anything left alive over there. Nobody made it out of the buildings."
Riley nodded. He keyed the handset. "Hammer, we don't have any movement down here. Over."
The calm voice came back. "Roger. We're going to give it another twenty seconds to make sure and then we'll shut down. Your route to your exfiltration pickup zone looks clear. Unless we get some air reaction from the natives, we'll stay up here and cover you until pickup. Moonbeam is tracking your exfil bird inbound only an hour out. Over."
"Roger. Thanks. We're leaving here as soon as you finish. We're breaking down the radio now. Out."
The sudden silence was deafening as the Spectre gunship stopped firing.
The pickup zone was an open field only a little over a kilometer away from the target site. They made it there in under thirty minutes and settled in to wait.
Marzan had the radio turned on, with the transmitter and scrambler still in his backpack and the small dish antenna on the ground in front of him. Riley held the handset and peered out into the dark field. Powers was out there in the middle with an infrared strobe light. At exactly 0537 Powers turned on the strobe light and Riley keyed the mike. "Stork, this is Eyes One. Over."
Even through the hiss of the scrambler Riley could hear the muted roar of rotor blades in the background as the immediate reply came back. "Eyes One, this is Stork. Authenticate one seven. Over."
"This is Eyes One. I authenticate one one. Over."
"Roger authentication. We're one minute out. Over."
"Roger. One minute out. Papa Zulu is cold. I say again, Papa Zulu is cold. We've got the IR strobe on. Over."
Riley waited tensely. They could hear the helicopter now, coming in from the north. The beat of the blades sounded louder in the early morning air. Then, suddenly there it was, flaring over the field and settling down. Powers had extinguished the strobe light and was waiting. Marzan gathered up the antenna in his arms and ran with it toward the helicopter along with the rest of the team.
They threw themselves into the cargo compartment through the open right door. Gunners in the crew chief window on each side scanned the tree lines, looking over the barrels of their M60 machine guns with night-vision goggles. As the helicopter lifted, Riley caught the silhouettes of two more helicopters hovering at opposite edges of the field. As the modified Blackhawk picked up speed and headed toward the ocean, Riley pressed his face against the window in the cargo door and looked at their escort. Two Apache helicopter gunships were riding shotgun, one on either side, as they streaked just above the terrain at 130 knots. In a minute they were over ocean and clear of Colombian territory. Riley liked the escort: They were traveling in style for once.
Riley caught Powers's eye across the dimly lit cargo bay. Powers gave him the thumbs-up. First mission a go.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
General Pike let out a sigh of relief and turned away from the radio. "They're on their way back. The mission was successful."
He looked at Westland. "That means Eyes Two goes as planned. We'll give it until this afternoon and then re-contact Stevens and see if he has any sort of reaction from the people down there."
Westland smiled as she rubbed her eyes wearily. She was glad things had turned out well. She needed to go over to Langley this morning and update Strom. She looked at the clock on the wall and calculated. She ought to be able to get there and back before the team flew in for the debrief.
Riley climbed slowly out of the van. He was exhausted. Pike had been waiting at the airfield to welcome them back as they got off the C-130. Riley had immediately noticed that Westland was not there and for some reason that had bothered him. He wasn't quite sure why he had expected her to be there.
Returning to the isolation area, Riley and his team were greeted by the members of Eyes Two as they entered the operations room. Pike indicated the hot food and drink laid out on a table. "Why don't you all grab some chow. Westland should be back with the debriefer in a couple of minutes and we can start then. I want the other team to listen in, too, so they can know what to expect."
Riley nodded and walked over to grab himself a cup of coffee. Westland should have already been here, he thought to himself. What did she have that was more important than this debriefing? Her not being at the airfield had bothered him personally, he finally admitted to himself, but her not being here on time for the debriefing bothered him professionally. A debriefing needed to start immediately, before any important information was forgotten.