Flanking Viper One, the other three Apaches were releasing their loads. Through his optics, Straker could see bodies littering the camp, and the buildings in ruin. An explosion sent a tongue of flame curling into the night sky. That explosion initiated a rapid sequence of smaller, secondary detonations. Straker blinked for a second as his night-vision equipment strained to adjust to the light differences.
Death reigned in the camp. Straker knew that the Special Forces team was somewhere off to the east watching this destruction. He heard the radio crackle. "Viper One, this is Eyes Two. Over."
"Viper One. Over."
"You've got everything in the camp as far as we can see. One of the vans made it to the road and is heading south. We think it's carrying some of the cocaine. We're ready to move forward and verify the kill and get picked up. Over."
"Roger that, Eyes Two. Break. Viper Three and Four, go after that van and take it out. Two, move forward with me and cover the pickup zone. Break. Moonbeam, did you copy Eyes Two? Over."
"This is Moonbeam. Roger that." The voice continued. "Stork is two minutes out coming in from the west, to your left front."
Straker edged his aircraft forward as he watched Three and Four break off his right and head for the trail out of the camp. Straker took up a position covering the camp from the northwest, while Two covered it from the northeast. He watched as an infrared strobe light started flashing in his night sight.
"One, you got Eyes Two in sight? Over."
"Roger that. Over."
"Eyes Two, this is Viper One. We have you in sight." Straker could see five men moving through the wreckage of the camp. They appeared to be carrying a sixth man on some sort of stretcher. As Straker watched, one man turned and fired into a body lying on the ground. Straker spotted a seventh figure skulking toward the tree line. Apparently, Martin spotted the target at the same time: The 30mm cannon erupted and the figure was obliterated. A burst of light to the immediate south caught Straker's attention.
"This is Three. Scratch one van full of scum. Over."
Straker reoriented as the HH-53 Pave Low passed between his aircraft and Viper Two, settling into the landing zone. The five men ran on board the ramp with their stretcher. The Pave Low lifted.
Straker pulled in cyclic and keyed his mike. "Let's circle round the wagon, guys."
With the lift helicopter safely in the center, the five aircraft sped northwest just a hundred feet above the terrain at 130 knots.
Stevens put down the headset. The helicopters were long gone out of Colombian airspace, heading north over the Pacific Ocean toward Panama. The night's mission was complete. Stevens rolled his head back and let out a deep breath. He was exhausted. The thought of Maria waiting back at the room failed to excite him for the first time. She had worn him out before he'd come on duty tonight. He'd almost been late coming up on the radio net. Stevens had reluctantly pried himself out of her arms in order to get here to monitor Eyes Two's activities only an hour and forty-five minutes prior to the actual attack.
"I don't like it one bit." Riley shook his head. Eyes Two's debriefing had just finished, and Stevens had called up with the latest information from his informants regarding the events of the early morning. Paulson was still on the Raleigh in the ship's infirmary. The rest of Eyes Two had just left to go upstairs and catch some sleep after their long night. Riley and Pike had gotten together with Westland in Pike's office and were now reviewing the information that had come out in the debrief.
Riley explained his concern. "I don't think Suarez would have tried to move his lab that quickly based on the fact that one of Ramirez's labs had been hit the night before. How the hell did Suarez find out about the first hit? Ramirez has kept it real quiet. Or at least that's what Stevens tells us. And second, why the rush to move it in the middle of the night, almost as if he was expecting to be hit right then?"
Westland shook her head. "I agree it doesn't make sense. If there's a leak, then why didn't Eyes One's target get warned?"
General Pike swung his head around. "Let's look at it logically. Let's also worst case it and assume a leak, although most likely it was just a coincidence.
"The where of Eyes One and Two was known to several people. People here in the Eyes teams, people in the Hammer task forces, those people across the river in Washington whom I had to brief. Also, it was known by the CIA contact who took the information, and, backing up from him, by the person who gave that contact the information in the first place. If there is a leak that's the place I think we should look."
Westland shook her head. "Even if the source told other people what it told our contact, there's no way the source could know on which nights we were going to hit."
Pike considered that. "We're also getting extremely paranoid here. The odds are it was just a coincidence. But I don't like coincidences, so from here on out we're going to be more secure. No one other than the people in this building will know the exact day or time of the hit."
Riley concurred. "Sounds good to me, sir."
They both turned and looked at Westland. The unspoken question was whether she would go against her instructions from the CIA and not report back to her supervisor the timing of the hits. She didn't hesitate. "I agree. The timing stays with us."
Pike glanced at Riley. Riley nodded to his boss. He felt they could trust her.
Pike continued. "I'm going to have the Hammer task forces on alert status starting now, and they go only on the radio call from the team on the ground. That way if the leak came out of the Hammer force, we can prevent them knowing which night the hit actually goes down until they're on their way to the target. I'm sure they'll bitch about that at the Pentagon, but I'll brief the chairman personally on why we're doing it. I'm sure he'll agree and support us."
Riley nodded. "That'll help, sir, but I think the leak, if there is one, is elsewhere." He turned to Westland. "You need to do some hard checking on the contact agent down there and the source. From the beginning I thought it was screwed up getting intelligence from an unknown source. You need to find out as much as you can about the source."
If Westland resented being told what to do by Riley, she didn't show it. "I'll see what I can find out."
Alegre watched as the chief of his presidential bodyguard sat down across from him. Pasquel Montez was his closest adviser and friend. They had grown up in the same suburb of Bogota and attended the university together. Montez was the only man in Bogota that Alegre would trust totally. He was also the only man in Bogota who knew the complete extent of the plan Alegre had implemented. "What is the report from Medellin?"
Montez smiled. "Most interesting. The raid, of course, was a success. There is nothing left up there. The interesting part, my President, is that Suarez was killed in the raid."
Alegre looked up in surprise. "What was Suarez doing at his laboratory in the middle of the night?"
"I don't know yet. I have some people making discreet inquiries."
Alegre digested this new information. "Certainly I am not going to cry over the death of that pig. With Suarez out of the way, the Medellin gang will be out of circulation for a while. I imagine the Ring Man and Ramirez will fight like wolves over what's left."
Montez seemed noncommittal. "Certainly Suarez's death furthers your cause, but I am worried about why he was there in the middle of the night. Could he have been set up? And if he was set up, by whom? The answer to the last question would seem to be quite obvious. There is only one other man in the country besides you and I who knows about the attacks."