Eyes of the Hammer (The Green Berets) (34 page)

Macksey shook his head. "That man is dead. We've received intelligence to that effect."

"From whom? Those assholes up the road at Langley? Why should they give a shit? They left our people to hang in Vietnam and Cambodia and Laos when they had confirmed sightings. Why the hell should they change now?" Pike laughed bitterly. "Shit. We left our own hanging, too. We're not any better than they are, but at least I thought we might have learned."

Macksey leaned slightly forward. "Watch your tone with me, Pike. Remember who you're talking to. I can bust you in a heartbeat."

Pike laughed mirthlessly. "Bust me! Bust me into what? I was busted when I hit those trees twenty-one years ago. I was busted every time I didn't roll over and kiss ass, and spoke what I felt was the truth regardless of who it pissed off."

Pike put his face as close to Macksey's as the desk would allow. "Let me tell you something, General. While you were brown-nosing on a general's staff during your one tour in 'Nam, I was watching buddies of mine get their asses shot off for three years in the bush. I took a round through my gut and busted my back. While you were playing politics here in Washington, kissing politicians' asses, I was traveling around the world going places you pretty play soldiers never go. Doing the job you couldn't and wouldn't do.

"You don't scare me. Let me tell you one last thing. There aren't many things I believed in in the army. But one of them was taking care of my men and I always did that. And when the army has gotten to a point where the head man doesn't do that, then you don't have to bother busting me. I quit!" Pike turned and headed for the door.

Behind him Macksey's tone had changed. "Listen, goddammit. There's nothing I can do. The president doesn't want the incident down there to get any worse. He's specifically—"

Pike slammed the door on Macksey's explanations and his army career.

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

3:00 P.M.

Riley didn't bother standing up as did Westland when Strom walked in the door. There was only so much of the game that he'd play. He eyeballed the deputy director taking his place at the table across from him. Strom dominated the spare briefing room with his air of confidence and control. This was his turf and he wanted Riley to know it. Riley found it interesting that Strom chose to sit as far away from him as possible, leaving Westland at the head of the table, figuratively in the role of mediator.

On the drive over from Belvoir Riley had pumped Westland for more details, but the results had been lean. Strom was the man with the hard information, and just how much of it he would divulge was questionable. Riley knew Strom would give up only enough for Riley to do what they wanted him to, if killing Ring Man was indeed the purpose of the mission.

Strom slid two folders and two large envelopes to Westland, who passed one of each on to Riley. "That's all we've got on Ring Man, plus a listing of some information on our operations down there that you're going to need. In the envelopes you'll also find your cover documentation." Strom sat back in his chair and watched as Riley slowly opened his folder.

The top item was a five-by-eight photo of a man entering a limousine. "That's the latest photo we have of the Ring Man, taken a week ago in Bogota."

Riley examined the picture. The figure labeled as Ring Man would be easy to recognize. Riley scanned the rest of the picture. The limousine was obviously armored. In the background of the photo he caught glimpses of other figures, apparently security. "How big is Ring Man's normal guard detail?"

Strom shrugged. "Anywhere from three to ten. You can be sure he's upped it since he's started this war against the government and the other cartel leaders. In fact he hasn't been seen out and about for the past week, since that photo was taken."

"Where's he holed up?"

Strom gestured at the file folder. "The next picture is a ground shot of his villa outside Bogota. You've also got overhead imagery in there of the grounds and four kilometers around them, plus a one-to-fifteen thousand geo map of the area. We haven't had time to get any blueprints or details on security and alarms, but our man in Bogota is working on that and might have something for you tomorrow after you get there."

Riley examined what he could see of Ring Man's villa. Fortress would probably be a more appropriate term, he figured, as he took in the obvious security details. A ten-foot stone wall completely enclosed the grounds. He could make out guards at the main gate. The overhead imagery showed several more guards scattered around the grounds on the inside. Riley spotted some smaller shadows. "Looks like he's got dogs in there. Do you know what kind?"

"No info on that, old boy."

Riley glanced up in irritation. Strom was sitting there unperturbed with the hint of a smile on his face. Riley decided he was through fooling around. "Why don't you tell me what the hell you do know."

The smile grew slightly larger. "It's all in the folder. You'll know as much as I do after you read that."

"What about a name, or did that yo-yo's mother name him Ring Man?"

"All we have is Ring Man."

Riley glanced over at Westland and back to Strom. All right, he thought, fine. That's the way it's going to be. For the next thirty minutes, Riley carefully read through the rest of the folder, committing the important parts to memory.

There wasn't much there. Obviously someone had done a rush job on parts of the intelligence packet, although that was contradicted by the dating on some of the photos and imagery. That made Riley wonder when this mission had first been authorized.

Getting the high-resolution imagery of the villa required someone with a lot of power in the intelligence community. Riley didn't think there were too many spy satellites with orbits over Colombia, although for all he knew there might be. Besides, he knew they could always run a U-2 overhead for imagery if needed. The dates on the photos indicated an extensive surveillance had been in place as early as two days ago.

Finishing his studying he looked up. "Thursday night's too soon. With this amount of intelligence I can't move that fast. I'm going to need to put some surveillance on that villa, and I won't be able to do that tonight. If I'm able to eyeball it all night tomorrow night, I'll still need some time to plan. Friday night's the earliest I could hope to do anything, and that's only if I spot a weakness I can exploit."

Strom considered this for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Thursday night. We can't go any further than that."

Westland spoke for the first time. "Why not?"

Strom swung his imperious gaze over to her. "My dear girl, there are more things going on than this simple operation." He turned back to Riley. "However, the main reason is that Alegre is under intense pressure from Ring Man. We're afraid there may be a counterplot by Ring Man to assassinate President Alegre. We can't afford to have that happen. The sooner Ring Man is out of the picture, the better."

That's all fine and good, thought Riley, except for the fact that a half-assed attempt to hit Ring Man was more likely to end with himself dead rather than Ring Man. "What about backup or equipment? Can I get some more bodies if I need them?"

Strom showed his sly smile again. "We've decided to go along with your request and send Westland with you as your liaison and to help with your cover. If you need equipment or information, she'll be your contact with our local agent down there. She's already been briefed on how to make that contact."

Riley pressed. "What about extra people?"

"My dear boy, she is your extra people."

Which meant, Riley knew, that the CIA had a cover story in the event she was exposed. By keeping the in-country team to Riley and her, the CIA could cut its losses if the whole thing blew up.

He looked through the folder one more time. There wasn't much there, and he realized he wasn't going to get anything worthwhile out of this smiling bureaucrat. He was also getting real tired of the "dear boy" crap. Riley scooped up the envelope with his new identity and opened it.

His new name was Roberto Gonzalo. He was a cabdriver from New York City. His union card was there along with a driver's license, social security card, credit card, and photos of his wife. Riley looked over at his new wife. "Who are you?"

"Catherine Gonzalo. I'm a secretary at Misericordia Hospital in New York and we live in the Bronx."

Riley nodded. He wasn't sure how much Kate knew about her background, but he was very familiar with it. "Yeah. We live at 1846 Arnow Avenue. I know that neighborhood. Not too bad. Hopefully, we won't run into anyone who knows New York better than me. I'll tell you about it on the way to the airport." He gathered his documents and stood up. "Let's get going."

Kate halted. "Wait a second. What's our cover for being there? I mean, why are two New Yorkers going down to Bogota?"

Strom shrugged. "Up to you, dear girl. Tourists is the easiest."

Riley shook his head. "No. We're going there for a baby."

Westland stared in surprise. "A baby?"

"Yeah, a baby. Cocaine's not the only thing you can buy on the black market down there. And since my beautiful wife is unable to have a baby, we're going shopping for one."

KENNEDY AIRPORT, NEW YORK

6:37 P.M.

Riley found himself sinking lower into the hard plastic box that masqueraded as a seat in the foreign departures waiting area. Five hours' sleep just wasn't enough after the recent events. Just twenty-four hours ago he'd been bouncing around on the Gulf of Mexico with the rest of his team. Now four were dead and Powers was missing.

Riley felt only a shadow of the pain he had felt this morning when he thought of that. There was no time for it now. The grieving could come later. Right now he had a job to do. He glanced over at Westland. She looked exhausted also. Her eyes were half closed and her head was playing the bobbing game.

Riley sat up and tapped her. "We'll miss our flight if both of us fall asleep. We'll have five hours to sleep on the plane."

Westland yawned and got up. "Want some coffee? We've got probably fifteen minutes before they call our flight." Riley nodded and followed her toward the concourse.

They'd added forty minutes to their flight time by catching the shuttle up to New York from D.C., but it made sense for them to arrive in Colombia on a flight from New York. It fit their cover.

Riley was impressed with the thought and energy that had gone into their covers. Someone had actually taken the time to review both his and Westland's backgrounds to find a location in which they had both spent some time. It turned out that Westland had gone to college at New York University in Greenwich Village and thus was familiar with the city. Riley hoped all that information wouldn't be needed.

After grabbing a cup of coffee, they headed back to the waiting area. As they passed the bar Riley halted and peered in at the television. The logo for CNN had just flashed across the screen. He glanced at his watch. It was almost the half hour. "Let's see if there's anything more in the news on Colombia or the accident."

They stood outside the entrance, sipping their coffee, waiting through a few commercials. Riley edged closer when the announcer came on with an outline of Colombia highlighted behind him. Riley strained to catch the words.

"Late today a videotape was delivered to El Tiempo, a Colombian newspaper, showing the bodies of four men wearing scuba diving dry suits. A letter delivered with the video claims that the four men were members of the U.S. military and had been killed attacking Colombian nationals near the city of Barranquilla. The video is in the possession of the Colombian government and has not yet been released. We have a report from Bogota that the U.S. ambassador is meeting with Colombian officials to discuss the matter.

"There are rumors that the tape and letter were made by members of the Colombian drug cartel and delivered to the newspaper as a warning against a recent crackdown by the government.

"We switch you now to Henry Lowell, our correspondent at the Pentagon, for more on this story."

The picture now showed a reporter standing with the Pentagon in the background.

"Jim, the Pentagon has declined to comment on the report. However, earlier today, the Pentagon issued a news bulletin indicating that five U.S. servicemen had been killed in a helicopter crash in the Gulf of Mexico near the coast of Colombia during what the Pentagon described as routine training. Whether these men are the same as the ones in the video remains unclear. The names of the men involved are still being held pending notification of next of kin; however, I have been informed by an undisclosed source that the men were from Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

"Fort Bragg is the home of the elite antiterrorist Delta Force. The possibility exists that these men may indeed have been from this unit and may have been involved in some sort of antidrug operation near Colombia. Even if it was just an accident during training, as the Pentagon claims, how their bodies ended up in the hands of the drug cartel is unknown at this time."

The scene shifted back to the studio.

"Thank you, Henry. CNN will keep you updated on this story as more information becomes available.