General Foote nodded. “He’s right. Even the aircraft commander and crew were not informed of the mission until the plane was in the air. There have been no communications with the aircraft except to update the team over the secure link.”
“The Special Operations Division is the only one in the loop,” said General Gray. “Claire Richardson is doing this by the book and only people with the security clearance and a need to know are being brought aboard. We even made sure the technicians with all the gadgets rode with the team so they couldn’t accidently spill the beans. Could it have been from another agency?” he asked.
“Don’t look at me,” said the FBI Director. We’ve been monitoring as many sources as we can. I probably won’t get any confirmation until we reconstruct this.”
Jim Butler held up his hand. “Gentlemen, the bottom line is we have been compromised. Our team is nearly at their destination and we may as well just call them back home. Our best effort is to decide where we go from here. I think between the FBI, CIA and NSA, we should get the answer as to who did this. Now, what do we do with the team?” he asked as the door at the end of the room opened. Both Claire Richardson and Roger Hammond entered the room. They didn’t look happy.
“We leave them where they are,” Hammond said as they reached the table.
“What good is that?” the President asked. His temper had gone and he was now simply angry and annoyed.
“Sir, I recommend we call the President of Brazil and get them to announce the arrival of a special training team to work with their military on special operations. If he has a press conference welcoming them there, it sends a message that they were invited and takes a little of the heat off. Then that allows us to keep the team close by. We might not be able to launch the strike from there, but it gives me some room to maneuver,” Hammond said.
Richardson was nodding her head. “It makes good sense. At the same time, I need an aircraft we can use to get these guys in.” She turned to Foote. “How about cutting loose a couple of CV-22 Ospreys and send them down to USS Wasp. She’s been detached to be a part of Roger’s group. The whole task force will be joining up in a couple hours. Mister President, the CV–22 was designed to fly low and weave in and out of canyons so that we could deposit troops in tight places without being seen. We propose eventually picking that team up, taking them to one of the ships and then make a dash toward our target from the sea. Roger’s going to get their attention elsewhere and hold it while we get these guys in. Once the team is deposited, the aircraft makes a dash into Colombia, then back to the Wasp,” she said. “The big thing is to keep these guys guessing. That gives our team the best chance of getting those people out.”
“I had another idea that might go right along with this,” said Hammond. He spent the next ten minutes outlining his idea.
The President was now sitting in his chair. Once again, Hammond and Richardson had a plan. Better yet, the plan sounded good. He reached over and picked up a phone. “Bev, get me in touch with the Brazilian President.”
“We welcome our American friends to Brazil and thank them for sharing their training and experience with us,” said President Dilma Rousseff as she concluded her welcoming remarks. She reached over and shook the hands of the American Ambassador and a stunned looking Army Captain. The message diverting the plane to Brasilia had come in just 30 minutes before the plane had been scheduled to land. Their orders were to be greeted and then wait for instructions. There was applause all around as the American Ambassador finished his remarks, then the party left the platform set out on the tarmac for a cooler room in the terminal. All the members of the team followed them in. Once inside, the President shook the men’s hands. “Gentlemen, I know you are surprised at what just happened, but as you may have heard, somehow your trip here got leaked. We are making it look like you were expected and welcomed. We hope this will give you some…” she thought a moment, “cover, is what I believe you call it. I don’t know any plans, but we hope to make your stay pleasant. I am turning you over to our local air force command and we will make it appear you are training our people. I assure you, no one you will meet has any idea why you are here, but they may guess. I’m sorry it turned out this way. Now I will go about my business and wish you the best of luck in yours,” she said.
“Thank you, Madam President,” said the Ambassador, shaking her hand. When she had left, he turned to Chapman. “Captain, your plane will remain here and you should be able to operate from there for now. Try and make it look like you are just doing a training mission. If I can help you with anything, contact me,” he said again, shaking Chapman’s hand.
After he left, the men seemed to collapse into the seats. They didn’t say a word. They didn’t need to. Everyone was angry. The old saying, ‘Loose lips sink ships,’ could easily have been them. For an organization like Special Operations, security was everything. To have anyone decide to give out such information was, to them, treason at its highest level. To a man, they wanted to personally find out who had done it and pay them a covert visit. Chapman stood. Using hand signals, he got several of the men to scan the area for what might be TV cameras or listening devices. Looking around the area, nothing was obvious that there might be surveillance, but they would take no chances. “Ricks, take your men back to the aircraft and secure our gear. We place our own guard on the plane along with theirs. Once we find out more about this cluster fuck we will start getting things set straight. I’ll see about our quarters for the night,” Chapman said.
“Alright, listen up people,” said Ricks as he got up out of his chair. “Head back to the plane and make sure everything is locked up. Velto, you have the first watch. Keep your weapon loaded and ready and your radio on. Everyone remain with the aircraft until the Captain gets back with our orders. I guess I don’t need to tell you not to talk to anyone. We will be friendly but shy. Now move out,” he ordered. The already tired troops made their way back into the tropical heat and to the plane, which would be towed to a remote hanger.
After the plane was hooked up to the tractor, Ricks caught a ride by sitting on the edge of the rear ramp as the plane made its way along the tarmac. He had already forced himself to calm down. Sitting there pissed off would do nothing. After a minute, his friend, Sgt. Ben Miller, sat down beside him.
“Got anybody you want me to shoot?” he asked. Miller and Ricks had met during the last war and had become good friends. He was one of the snipers on the team.
Ricks grunted. “This is one I would do with my bare hands. Sometimes I wonder what people think. It’s like this was a game for their benefit.” He threw up his hands. “Probably never know anyway,” he said.
“True. Here we are, trying to save lives and somebody, for some reason, doesn’t like that. At least we found out. If this had happened when we got to the target, it might have been all she wrote,” Miller said.
Ricks smiled and slapped Miller on the shoulder. “And I thought all you wanted to do was shoot people,” he kidded.
Miller grinned. “Only the right ones,” he said. “Besides, I promised Su Lynn I would take care of you. That’s an easier job considering a good quarter of you is made out of metal,” he said with a grin. Both men laughed. Kidding helped a lot. The stress of the near miss was draining off now. It wouldn’t be long before they started thinking like a team again — on mission.
Pete Wilson had been out of the city at a nearby military facility when he got the call. It took until early the next afternoon to get back. After checking the usual protocols in his office, he went to the basement and entered the secure communications equipment room to check the numbers of calls that had been made in the previous 24 hours. He was surprised to find three calls that had taken place on the private phone line leading to Jonas’ desk. The first had been an incoming call from an area code 202 number just before 11 pm Washington time. He pressed the switch to play back the call.