Blasio took in a deep breath. His helicopter had no flare dispensers with which to spoof the heat-seeking missiles. If he was engaged by one, he would have only speed, radical maneuvers, and luck to protect him.
Nervously, the colonel tapped his small silver pointer against his leg as he added another word of caution. "The only jokers in the deck will be the Apaches. They will be working independently, coming into the area of operation just before 0400 and taking up positions near the LZ. From there, they will respond to requests for fire support from the ground force commander. This may include the supression of enemy ground fire when we go in for the ground force. That means they can be anywhere. So keep your eyes and ears open. You need to pay attention to where the Apaches are and what they are doing because once they start engaging, they won't have time to look out for us.",
Finished, the American colonel collapsed his pointer by pushing the point into the palm of his left hand. "If all goes well, we'll be back in time for breakfast. Gentlemen, and ladies, what are your questions?"
For a few seconds, everyone looked at their notes, their maps, and each other. When he saw that no one was going to ask a question, the colonel wished them luck and dismissed the group. As everyone stood and prepared to leave, Blasio looked around to where the Blackhawks were parked. Determined to find out what a vanilla Blackhawk was, he turned to a young aviator next to him. "Excuse me. But would it be possible to see one of your magnificent machines? I have heard so much about them but have never had the opportunity to see one up close."
The young warrant officer looked at Blasio, and then the colonel who had conducted the briefing. The colonel looked at Blasio, then back to the warrant. "Sure, Tim, go ahead."
Like a child freed to show off his toy, the young warrant smiled. "If you would come this way, Lieutenant, I'll give you the nickel tour."
25
The onset of bayonets in the hands of the valiant is irresistible.
Their approach march up the hill from the LZ, through the saddle between the two peaks, down the hill, and finally to the easternmost mercenary base camp had been more difficult than Cerro had expected. The time he had allotted for that movement, five hours, had seemed more than sufficient when he had looked at the map back at the division main command post. Now, as Cerro looked at his watch, he realized he wouldn't be able to meet his original schedule. He would be hard pressed to conduct his recon to find out where the hostages were, get back to where Kozak was holding her platoon, and lead the platoon into the base camp before dawn.
Not that it mattered, he thought. He had no pressing engagements back at the division CP. Besides, an attack just after dawn was, given the circumstances, not a bad idea. The idea of attack helicopters zipping all over the place, trying to provide fire support, at night, bothered Cerro.
Though he knew the pilots and gunners were good, and the Apaches had dynamite thermal sights, Cerro also knew that people, in the weird green and black image created by a thermal sight, all look the same. In the daylight the Apache gunners would be able to use their daylight sights and look before they shot. At least, he hoped they would. There was, Cerro knew, no way of predicting what the rotorheads would do.
Ready to leave the cover of the gully they had been crawling in for the past thirty minutes, Cerro looked back at Colonel Guajardo and nodded.
It was time for Guajardo and his "guide" to take the lead.
Pulling the tape from Lefleur's mouth, Guajardo looked at him and whispered his warning again, just in case Lefleur had forgotten. "Cooperate, and you will see the sun. Cross me, and you are a dead man. Do we understand each other?"
Lefleur, wiping his mouth, nodded.
Removing his pistol from its holster, Guajardo pointed toward the base camp. "After you, my friend."
With Lefleur in the lead, followed by Guajardo, then Cerro, and finally, Fast Eddie, the four men rose up out of the gully and began to move toward the rear of the building that Lefleur had identified as a cantina. Located on the eastern side of what everyone called Bandito Base East, the cantina was used as a mess hall for the mercenaries. On the south side of the camp, a large storage shed and machine shop served as billets for most of the mercenaries. An administrative building, on the western side of camp, was used by their leader, Delapos, as a headquarters as well as for additional billeting space.
While Guajardo was interested in the administrative building, where Delapos would be asleep, Cerro's attention was riveted on the tool shed and garage on the northern side of the base camp. It was in these buildings, according to Lefleur, that the American hostages had been put.
Cerro's task, during the recon, was to confirm that. If he could, it would make life so much easier when Kozak and her platoon came tearing into the camp. Perhaps, Cerro thought, with a little luck, some of Kozak's people could even secure the hostages before the shooting began. In that case, it would be a simple matter of putting Kozak's platoon in a line abreast and marching them into the bandito base, shooting everyone in front of them as they went.
Upon reaching the rear of the cantina, the four men flattened themselves against the wall and crouched to catch their breath and listen for the movement of any guards. After waiting a minute, Guajardo turned to Cerro. "Well, my young companion, this is where we must part."
Even in the dark shadow of the cantina, Guajardo could see the shocked expression on Cerro's face. It was only with the greatest effort that Cerro kept his voice down. '"What do you mean?"
"I am, my young friend, after their leader. I cannot take the chance that we will be able to find him and keep him alive once your lovely lieutenant and her men begin shooting. So, I am taking our guide and leaving to find and secure Senior Delapos, for safekeeping. You understand, of course."
Cerro couldn't believe it. The colonel, he realized, had been planning this the entire time. The bastard. The fucking bastard. Well, Cerro thought, two can play hardball. "No, I do not. That was not the plan.
You, Colonel, must understand that if you go jerking around in the dark, on your own, I cannot be responsible for your safety. When the shooting starts, I cannot guarantee that you, your guide, and your hostage won't be hit by friendly fire."
Guajardo nodded. "I understand. But I am sure you will do your best. Vaya con Dios."
Without another word, Guajardo grabbed Lefleur by the collar and pushed him ahead of him out into the open and toward the rear of the storage building. Fast Eddie, who hadn't heard the conversation between Cerro and Guajardo, leaned forward and whispered in Cerro's ear,
"Where they goin', sir?"
Disgusted, tired, and momentarily flustered, Cerro mumbled a curse Fast Eddie didn't hear, then over his shoulder, he whispered, "They're off playing,cowboys."
When Cerro turned his attention back to his front, Fast Eddie thought about Cerro's response. He had no idea what the captain meant. He didn't remember anyone mentioning anything about the Mexican doing his own recon. Not that it mattered. Fast Eddie reminded himself that he was, after all, only a grunt. Nobody ever told him anything. All he was expected to do was carry the radio and follow the captain.