AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Colonel," Leverette added, "you didn't really expect me to wave a tearful bye-bye while you and Jack Davidson flew off to do battle with the forces of evil, did you?"
Castillo was silent. Then he shook his head in an exaggerated fashion.
"I give up," he said.
"Colonel, what's the worst scenario?" Ward asked.
Castillo inhaled deeply, exhaled audibly, and said, "These people took out two of Comandante Duffy's gendarmes. He wants to leave bodies all over to make the point they shouldn't have done this. I can't stop him-frankly, I'm not sure I blame him-but I can't afford to get us involved in anything like that.
"So, worst scenario is that we get in a firefight on the ground. That would take time. I think Duffy's men are going to be in the compound where Timmons is within five minutes of the time we get there. I want to be gone by then, long before there's any chance of us taking fire-or casualties."
There came the sound of the Huey's engine starting.
"Well, Bob, I think you'd better take this old Air Force type to the house," Castillo said. "He's had enough excitement for one day."
"What I think we need, Colin, is a kinder, gentler commander," Colonel Torine said.
Almost exactly two hours later, at 0620, Castillo and Leverette looked out the side door of Red Riding Hood Four-around the Gatling gun-as the aircraft lifted off. They waved good-bye to Ambassador Lorimer, who was standing by the table in the field with the two next best available shooters from the stockade at his side.
XV
[ONE]
Estancia San Patricio
Near Clorinda
Formosa Province, Argentina 0355 21 September 2005 Castillo had an uneasy feeling that things were going too well, too smoothly.
Even the damn TVs came through.
All four of them. And in working order.
They were the sixty-four-inch flat-screen LCD television monitors from the quincho at Nuestra Pequena Casa. He had mentioned idly to Comandante Duffy that it was a pity they wouldn't have one of them at what Edgar Delchamps had dubbed the Cathedral-"as in Saint Patrick's Cathedral"-meaning the huge warehouse buildings at Estancia San Patricio.
"They'd sure make the final briefing a lot easier," Castillo had said.
"Not a problem," Duffy said. "I'll have one of them there in the morning. Maybe we should send two, to be sure."
"Hell, take all of them. They're not going to do us any good here in the quincho."
And if we're really lucky, he'd thought, maybe more than one will survive getting trucked over a thousand clicks of bumpy provincial roads.
Thirty minutes later, one of the seized trucks from Duffy's combination headquarters-garage-warehouse had arrived at Nuestra Pequena Casa. The cargo area of the truck was half filled with mattresses.
And the next day-yesterday, at lunchtime-when Castillo arrived at the Cathedral with Delchamps, Lester, Leverette, and Max in a confiscated Mercedes SUV, Sergeant Major Jack Davidson had all four of the screens up and running, displaying the latest satellite updates.
"This is great, Jack, but now everybody knows more than they should," Castillo said.
"Well, surprising me not a little, Duffy didn't argue with me when I told him that we were in the lockdown stage of the operation and that nobody leaves the Cathedral once they come in."
"You're a good man, Jack. Don't pay any attention to what people are always saying about you."
Comandante Liam Duffy, now wearing what was apparently the Gendarmeria Nacional uniform for going to war-camouflage shirt and trousers, sort of jump boots, and web equipment that seemed designed primarily to support many ammunition magazines-walked up to Castillo, pointed at his wristwatch, and raised his eyebrows in question.
"Yeah, Liam," Castillo said. "It's about time."
Duffy bellowed a name.
