Turning away from the window, Delapos resumed his pacing but abruptly stopped when he was struck by a sudden inspiration. What if, he thought, he sent that first team out before dawn with the dead Americans to Saltillo, where his men could leave their fresh bodies at the doorstep of the military garrison wrapped in the morning paper. Such an act would be a worthy beginning to their war of terror. Besides, it would pass on to the Mexican government a problem that not even the cleverest member of the Council of 13 could explain to the Americans. Yes, he would do that.
Sucking in his breath, Lieutenant Blasio looked at the gathering of American pilots, then marched over to join them. It would be difficult, he thought, to work with these men. After all, only a few hours ago they had been the enemy and would be, perhaps, again tomorrow. Still, if his colonel felt comfortable with the Americans and could work with them, so could he. The men he would work with were, after all, aviators, no different from himself.
When he was within a few feet of the American pilots, their conversation began to die out as one of them noticed him and then, attempting to be discreet, warned the others that "he" was coming. By the time Blasio joined the circle of aviators waiting for their final briefing, the silence was total. The American Army colonel, the aviation officer for the 16th Armored Division, who would be giving the briefing, glanced at his watch before he looked about, first at his people, then at Blasio. Satisfied that everyone who needed to be there was present, he began.
, "Okay, since everyone is here and eager to start, we'll begin early. By now, you've all had an opportunity to look over the route and the order.
The key to this operation, as if you haven't heard it enough today, is simplicity and synchronization. Although there are only, relatively speaking, a few aircraft involved, and we're going to be playing follow the leader, everyone needs to be on his, or her, toes and ready to take the lead at any time. Should you find yourself in the lead, remember the lowest common denominator."
When the American colonel mentioned lowest common denominator, he was looking at Blasio. Though he could feel the anger in him welling up, Blasio did not show it. Instead, he returned the colonel's stare without so much as a blink. Why, Blasio thought, did the Americans think themselves so superior simply because they had better machines? Without having to ask, he knew that he had more flying hours, under worse conditions, than most of the American pilots sitting there. It was only natural, since Mexico had so few helicopters and so many demands.
With, perhaps, the exception of the colonel doing the briefing and one or two of the older aviation warrant officers, Blasio knew in his heart that he would have little difficulty matching or besting the skills of any pilot there, given a machine of equal ability. And yet the gringos assumed, just because they had newer, faster, more complex, and more expensive aircraft, that they were somehow better than he. While he would never be able to change their minds, he was determined to give the gringos a reason for doubting their groundless preeminence. Blasio knew that he not only had to defend his own pride — he was, that night, representing the honor of all Mexican military pilots. He would not let them down.
As the American colonel continued, Blasio had to push those thoughts from his head. The briefing was being given in English. Though he spoke and understood English, he had to give all of his attention to that effort.
"Right, from the top, one more time. At 2100 hours, three hours from now, the lead Blackhawk, the CG's command and control bird, will lift off carrying Captain Cerro, his RTO, and two two-man pathfinder teams.
Colonel Guajardo of the Mexican Army and a guide will follow the CG's bird in his own helicopter."
Good, Blasio thought. At least they had stopped referring to them as "the Mexican bird" as if it were a strange and foreign creature.
"Cruising at one hundred knots, and flying at an altitude of one hundred feet above ground level, they'll go in using contour flying. That will put them on the LZ, here, west of San Lazaro, at 2210 hours. Once the captain, one pathfinder team, and the colonel are on the ground, those aircraft will move to the rally point, here, and wait."
Using a map behind him, the colonel traced the routes he was discussing as he went, tapping the map at the proper location with a small collapsible silver pointer when he mentioned a point of interest. "The captain, with an RTO, and Colonel Guajardo with a guide, will move along the dismounted approach to recon the route and the bandito base in advance of the main body. The pathfinder team that they dropped off will mark the LZ and provide security, while the second pathfinder team will mark the rally point when they get there. At 2200 hours, the main body, under Lieutenant Kozak, will depart in the three vanilla Blackhawks, followed by the air ambulance. Using the same route, speed, and altitude, they will hit the LZ at 2310. Any questions or problems so far?"
A warrant officer, seated in the front, raised his hand. "Excuse me, sir.
But why, may I ask, are we dumping the grunts that far away from the camps, and in the south? It seems to me that it would make sense to either just go zooming in there and drop everyone in the middle of the camp, or, if they wanted to go in quietly, drop them off north of the camps, using the hills there to cover our approach."
"You're right. Both of those solutions are the most direct and the most obvious. That's why we're doing what we are. It appears, if the information that the Mexicans gave us is correct, that the banditos have already considered both of your approaches and are prepared to meet them." Referring to a small green notebook and pointing to the map, the colonel located known enemy positions for the assembled pilots. "There are three .50-caliber machine guns, here, here, and here. There are at least two surface-to-air missiles at each of those locations. From these positions, the banditos can fire down on any helicopter making a direct approach into either camp. Observation posts, here and here, would give them ample warning of our approach from the north. From those OPs, they can see everything as far north as Santa Teresa. Odds of our being able to sneak up on them, even in the dark, are nil. And since we suspect the hostages are in Bandito Base East, it is pointless to go around the hills to the west and through Bandito Base West first or directly over the hills and through the OPs and machine-gun positions. Both options would require fighting and give the banditos an opportunity to dispose of the hostages. While the approach march will take longer, it gives us the best chance of surprise."
The colonel waited for any more questions, scanning the gathering of pilots as he did so. Though Blasio understood the tactics, he had no idea what the difference between a vanilla Blackhawk and a regular Black hawk was. This, however, was not the time for such a trivial question.
Perhaps, he thought, he could find out after the briefing without making his ignorance too obvious.
"Captain Cerro is leaving five hours for the five-kilometer march over the hill, through the saddle, and down into the valley where the bandito bases are. Though they may not need that much time, the going may prove rough, especially since we will have less than twenty-percent illumination tonight. The actual raid, which should take less than thirty minutes, start to finish, will commence sometime after 0400 hours, just before dawn. Therefore we need to be ready to pull pitch, at a moment's notice, from 0400 on. Right now, the plan is to pick everyone up at the PZ, here. The situation on the ground, and the condition of the hostages, however, may dictate that we go right into the bandito bases in order to extract them. If we do — I say again, if we do — make sure your flares are armed and ready. The banditos have both SA-7 and Redeye surface-to-air missiles here, on the hill to the north overlooking their base."