In tones that were dispassionate and cold, Guajardo explained. "The mercenaries are holding an important member of your Congress and a noted television reporter hostage. Even if you believe this report, how would your government and your people react if, during a raid by my people, your congressman and reporter were killed?"
Dixon stood up. Jan had told him, on several occasions, that Colonel Guajardo was a cold, calculating bastard. While what he proposed made sense, it didn't make it any more palatable. If the Mexican Army tried to save Lewis and Jan but failed, they would get the blame. By letting the Americans go in, the Mexicans got rid of the mercenaries and, as a bonus, washed their hands of all responsibility for whatever happened to Lewis and Jan. It was, for Guajardo, a true win-win situation.
JBig Al, coming to the same conclusion as Dixon had, thought about Guajardo's offer. "What, Colonel, do you expect in return?"
"First, I will accompany the assault. I will bring Lefleur with me. He should prove useful in helping us find our way about. Second, I will use my own helicopter. Although I realize that my Bell 212 will be slower than your Blackhawks, it is important that I go into battle in one of our own aircraft, not an American aircraft."
Dixon shot a glance at Big Al. Big Al could tell by Dixon's expression that he didn't like the idea of including a Mexican helicopter in any operation they would be running. But Big Al, who had worked with other military forces, understood exactly what Guajardo was doing. As the minister of defense, the leader of the Mexican armed forces, and a member of the Council of 13, Guajardo was an important man in Mexico. As such, he had an image which he had to maintain. Even though the operation would be an all-American effort, it would be politically suicidal for Guajardo to be carried into battle in an American helicopter. For him to do so would make it look as if he didn't trust his own pilots and equipment and, more importantly, that he had to depend on the Americans for everything. That would never do in a nation where appearances were often more important than fact. Although it was pure tokenism, Big Al knew the Mexican helicopter had to go and, more importantly, it had to make it.
"Finally," Guajardo continued, "I must be given the one named Delapos, who is the leader of these mercenaries, alive, at the end of the raid."
For a moment, Big Al waited for more demands. But there were none.
"Is that all? What about after the raid?"
Guajardo smiled. "We, General, are soldiers. What happens after the raid is best handled by the politicians and diplomats. It would be foolish for us to become involved with anything other than the immediate problem."
Both Big Al and Dixon agreed. By keeping it at that level, they would be able to justify their action. Although the rules of engagement that they currently were operating under forbade U.S. forces from crossing over the front line held by Mexican forces, they did allow commanders to take whatever actions they deemed necessary to protect American lives. As Big Al saw it, he had the authority and the responsibility to do what Guajardo proposed. Without any further thought, Big Al decided to do it.
When he stood up, Guajardo did likewise.
"When, Colonel Guajardo, do we go?"
"Tomorrow."
Big Al and Dixon started planning while they were en route back to the division main command post. Poring over data concerning the area of operations and disposition of Mexican forces as well as information provided by Lefleur that Guajardo's aide had given them, they developed several options and discussed them. By the time the general's command and control helicopter landed at the CP, they had already come up with a basic concept and some rules of engagement that would govern the operation. One thing that both men agreed on was that the fewer people that knew and were involved, the better.
Once they were on the ground, they called in the division G2. Together, in a van that served as the commanding general's office, Dixon and the intelligence officer drafted a plan that Big Al approved. Next came the question as to what forces would be used and who would command them. Dixon recommended that Captain Cerro, an officer who had conducted numerous air-assault operations, be designated as the ground force commander. Big Al concurred and sent his aide to roust Cerro out of bed.
Next, the question of troops came up. It was decided that only a single infantry platoon, supported by attack helicopters, would be necessary.
Fewer people on the ground and fewer aircraft in the air meant less confusion. With so little time to prepare, it was mandatory that everything be done to keep the plan simple. Besides, the division had to stay within its limited resources. The division did not have a lot of UH-60
Blackhawks available for troop transport. So one platoon, possibly reinforced, was the limit. The division aviation officer concurred. Since he would plan and coordinate the air movement, he had been added to the growing conference. There would be no time, he pointed out, for the air crews making the raid to do a rehearsal before the actual event. If for no other reason than that, it was critical that the number of aircraft involved be as few as possible.
When Cerro arrived, Dixon quickly briefed him on the mission, his role, and what had been discussed up to that point. When he was asked if he had any recommendations as to where the platoon should come from, Cerro didn't hesitate. He told Dixon that the 2nd Platoon, Company A, 2nd of the 13th Infantry should go. They were, after alii right there at the division CP, they had been tested in combat and had done well, and they were rested. When Big Al asked who the platoon leader was and Cerro informed him, there was silence in the van.
In the silence that followed Cerro's recommendation, he watched Dixon look at Big Al, and Big Al, in turn, look back at Dixon. Cerro knew what the problem was, a problem no one, apparently, was going to be the first to mention. Looking at Big Al, Cerro stated, without any flourishes, without undue emotion, that Nancy Kozak was as good as they came and if he was going to go in, he wanted her and her platoon to go with him. Big Al smiled as he looked about the room. "Well, that's good enough for me. Scotty, would you have my aide go get Lieutenant Kozak?"
Shaken out of a sound sleep, Kozak took a minute to understand that the man who was shaking her was the general's aide. It took her even longer to understand what he wanted. Crawling out of her sleeping bag, she rummaged about for her gear for several minutes, slowly pulling herself together as the aide waited impatiently. Finally ready, Kozak followed the aide to the general's van.
Though she had seen the vans that made up the division main command post, she had never been in them. It was, to her, like entering another world. The radios, telephones, computers, and other electrical equipment that did things she had no idea about made her platoon's radios look puny. As they went through vans, along ramps, past staff officers, and around desks piled high with stacks of paper, Kozak didn't notice a single officer below the rank of captain. She was, she realized, walking through the rarefied air of a higher headquarters. She hardly noticed the stares of both staff officers and NCOs who wondered, just as she did, what she was doing there.
Finally, they arrived at the commanding general's van. The aide knocked, then opened the door without waiting for a response. He, however, did not go in. Instead, he motioned for her to enter. As she walked into the van, her helmet on and rifle slung over her right shoulder, she felt like a Christian entering the arena. The stare of the faces that turned toward the door as she entered only served to reinforce that feeling.