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Chase was placed on a US Air Force V-22 for his next trip. As the aircraft lifted off, flying low over the airport, he marveled at the sheer number of American military aircraft and personnel below. Mexico City International Airport was now home to thousands upon thousands of American soldiers. Tanks and Stryker vehicles formed caravans, then headed south on the highways. Skies were filled with dark green helicopters, like flocks of geese heading south for winter.

But the helicopters were heading south for war.

Chase’s V-22 trip lasted several hours. Eventually the aircraft began circling a small military camp tucked within Costa Rica’s jungle-covered mountains. The small fort was only a football-field-sized cutout in the tree line. US military vehicles parked along a paved road running one mile to the west, providing security while another convoy of military vehicles transited south.

The V-22 touched down in the landing zone, the rotors kicking up swirls of brush. Chase exited, heading to the command tent. The camp was home to several SOF teams. Chase met up with the DEVRU commanding officer shortly after arrival, who introduced him to a few other members of the team.

“Most of the guys are in the rack right now.” He nodded toward the tent city on the outskirts of the rainforest. “We’ll be training tonight and then heading further south tomorrow.”

“Where to?”

“Looking like Panama. Chinese airborne troops have arrived in the southern sectors there. Intel says they’ll be defending SAM sites and supply depots for the larger contingent of regulars. SOUTHCOM is prepping a list of targets and future targets. I’m sure the Chinese are doing the same. Go get settled in. Brief’s at eighteen hundred. Make sure to get chow beforehand.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chase headed over to the DEVGRU tent and threw his green nylon sea bag on top of an empty cot. The room was dark, hot, and humid. About a dozen men were inside, most sleeping, some reading or listening to music. He could hear the loud call of jungle insects and birds outside.

By eighteen hundred Chase was fed, geared up, and ready to go. A CIA man wearing a T-shirt and cargo pants was leading the intel brief. He was speaking with the CO as everyone took their seats.

“Gentlemen, we have a change of plans. We’ve just received new intelligence. An NSA listening station just received a Morse code transmission. It stated the names of several American prisoners and added two words. Hypersonic testing. We think we may have found our missing scientist.”

Chase said, “Who sent the signal?”

“We don’t know yet. Could be a CIA asset in the country who’s gone underground. Or a foreign national sympathetic to our cause.”

“Could it be a trap?”

“That’s unlikely. The transmission was sent in an unusual way. It was automatically relayed by multiple Venezuelan military beacons. Our guess is that this wasn’t intentional. The operator might not have known what they were doing. The result was both good and bad. If the radio transmission hadn’t been sent that way, we might not have detected it.”

“And the bad?”

“We can’t be sure of the point of origin. But we were able to narrow it down to about a dozen sites.”

One of the SEALs said, “What’s the mission?”

“We’re going to have to search each one of the possible broadcast points. You’ll hit one tonight. From the sound of it, we’ll uncover American POWs and the scientists at the same site.”

“Any ISR support?”

“Negative. Not tonight. So be careful when you’re shooting. By next week, we’ll have better aerial coverage.”

The brief lasted another forty-five minutes, until the sun had fully set. The team had a fifteen-minute break before the heavy beat of rotors began reverberating throughout the mountains. The helicopters — three MH-60Ms — arrived and landed with their lights off in the dark grassy landing zone. Chase stood at the rear of the team, waiting.

On a silent signal, the team began jogging toward the birds. Each man wore a set of four-tubed night vision goggles clipped to his helmet, fixed in the up position. Chase carried a modified M4. The weapon’s upper receiver was shorter than normal, his preference in urban combat situations. The rifle also had a PEQ-15 infrared laser mounted at the end of the rail, just above the suppressor.

Their helicopter flight time was a little over an hour. The time was spent jostling in darkness, mentally walking through the mission. Eventually the guy sitting next to him tapped Chase on the shoulder, motioning for him to snap his goggles into place. Chase flipped the NVGs down and reached back to make sure the switch was on. The helicopter cabin glowed green.

“One minute out,” yelled one of the Army aircrewmen. He aimed a GAU-21 minigun out the cabin window as another aircrewman slid open one of the cabin doors and began prepping the rappelling rope. Through his goggles, Chase saw the other two Blackhawk helicopters pitching up to slow. He felt a flutter in his stomach as their aircraft did the same and they all began descending at a steep angle.

Soon the helicopters were hovering over a field. Chase stood crouched and began moving toward the cabin door, following the men disappearing into the blackness as grass and nearby tree leaves were being whipped by the rotor wash below. Now it was his turn.

Swinging his legs around once to use his boots as a brake, he gripped the rope with his gloved hands and then slid down to the earth.

He landed with a thud, doing his best to cushion with his knees, and then sprinted to keep up with the rest of the team, already fanning out among the long grass as they moved toward the huts to their east.

Through his NVGs, Chase could see over a dozen PEQ-15 lasers bouncing around in the night, aiming toward the huts.

His visual scan caught rapid movement in the shadows. Men with rifles. PLA soldiers, taking cover near the buildings.

The gunfire began.

Quiet spurts of suppressed fire from either side of him. The PLA soldiers dropped.

The team of special forces operatives continued pumping their legs, moving closer. Movement. Laser on target. Fire multiple rounds until the target was down. Repeat.

Within minutes, the SOF team killed five PLA soldiers, searched the three small buildings, and recovered a hostage before hustling back toward the landing zone. The circling Blackhawks timed their landing for a simultaneous arrival, and the DEVGRU team jumped aboard with minimal time on deck.

The aircraft took off at max power, nosing over and gaining speed, but keeping their altitude low over the trees as they flew back to the north. In the aircraft, Chase could see one of the SEALs using an eye and fingerprint scanner to identify the hostage, taking pictures of his face before putting a cover back over his head. The hostage remained blindfolded, hands bound.

After landing, the hostage was taken to the CIA tent, and Chase joined the unit commanding officer for the debrief.

“It wasn’t him,” the CIA man said.

Chase cursed.

* * *

The next day, Chase and the CIA officer were called to Panama to brief the general in charge of US Southern Command, or SOUTHCOM. Chase was interested to hear that General Schwartz had been promoted and assigned to the position.

The general and his staff had taken up camp at a makeshift Army airfield resting on a stretch of hill country half a dozen miles north of Panama City. From their vantage point, they could see the canal and a great deal of military movement.

“That’s 25th Infantry over there. Stryker Brigade.”

Chase looked out at the road. Several dozen M1126 Infantry Carrier Vehicles rolled along the road. A jet rumbled in the distance.

One of the nearby staff officers held one side of a headset to his ear. He said, “General Schwartz, sir, I think it’s about time to move you north. Multiple PLA ground units have been spotted by our scouts, sir. It’s about to begin.”