He spotted one man about his size at the back of the group, and moved up to him casually. They were all speaking Filipino. Juan cleared his throat and the man looked around.
“Hey, could I borrow a smoke? I just ran out.”
The man nodded. “Got to have another one myself.” He shook out a cigarette from a pack and took one himself, lit Juan’s and then his own.
“Thought something was going to happen today,” the rebel said. “I guess not.”
“Way it goes. Can I buy you a drink?”
The rebel looked up quickly. “We’re not supposed to drink.”
Juan chuckled. “New here, huh? Hell, we do lots of things we’re not supposed to do. I’ve got a bottle stashed down the alley here. How about a quick snort?”
The rebel looked around and nodded. “Why not. Nothing else to do.”
They wandered down the alley, then Juan pulled the man into an alcove in the alley where nobody could see them from either end. Juan didn’t waste time. He had his knife in his hand, and as soon as they were in the alcove, he pushed the sharp blade through the rebel’s right belly just under his rib cage, and slanted it upward into his heart. The man’s eyes went wide, he tried to scream, but nothing came out as he collapsed into Juan’s arms.
Two minutes later, Juan had the man’s shirt off and his own discarded. He took the man’s soft hat as well, and now he looked as much like the other rebels as was possible. He began his tour of the town. The rebel headquarters was easy to find. He followed green shirts to the spot where most of them were headed. It was a two-story wooden frame building with no windows on the sides and two on the front. It sat alone at the end of a block, with an open market just beyond it.
Juan realized he had no money with him. He couldn’t buy anything to eat. He saw some commotion around the headquarters, and he faded against a building and watched. Four men came out and began shouting orders. Two rebels with red tabs on their shoulders appeared and everything stopped. The men walked around looking at the other rebels, who had all come to attention. Juan did as well. Then the two red tabs and three others walked away from the building, and the men around it relaxed. The group came toward Juan. He and two other rebels there came to attention. The four men stopped, and one of the red-tabbed men shouted.
“You three men, follow us.” He pointed to Juan and the other two. The first two hurried to the group, and Juan knew he was trapped; he walked up and got in step beside them.
“Where are we going?” Juan whispered to the man beside him.
The rebel shrugged. “Don’t matter. Nothing happening.”
They went down two blocks, then the four in front went into a building through a door. Juan held to the back and when the rest were inside, he turned and sprinted down the block and around a corner, and ran another block before he stopped. No one chased him.
He decided to be less obvious, and kept to alleys and less traveled streets as he checked out the buildings and places where the rebels were concentrated. He soon had the barracks pegged, and the mess hall. There was a line there, so he stood in it and went through the early lunch line. They had cooked brown rice, a thin noodle soup, and bread. At least it was real food. He wandered the town for another two hours, and decided he had everything he could remember. There had been no sign of any hostages, or any guards around any buildings that might have contained them.
Juan moved to the farthest part of the town, then walked across the road and into the brush and trees and jungle on the far side. Ten minutes later he was back at the “home” tree, and found Lam aiming his MP-5 at the spot where Juan finished his silent approach and stepped out of the last brush.
“Got you,” Lam said.
Juan shook his head. “Thought I was sneaking up on you. Where’s your sketch of the town? I can fill in some blanks. You talk to your commander yet?”
Lam gave him a report on the radio talk. “We’re due for another call in a half hour. We have enough info for a strike on this place, if the commander can get any choppers. His last word was it would be better not to ask for any just yet.”
They worked for twenty minutes over the sketches of the town, and put in the approximate locations of the rebel facilities.
“Spread all over the place,” Juan said. “Not sure if that was on purpose, or just wherever they could find a building that would fit their needs.”
He told Lam about the men with red tabs on their shoulders. “Maybe they do have officers designated that way. Everyone snapped to attention when they came by.”
Lam set up the SATCOM antenna, training it on the section of the sky where he had found the satellite before, and adjusted it until he heard the beep from the set.
He raised Murdock on the first call. It was just after 1400.
“Home Plate, we have scored here. Have all the info we need to make a social call. Anytime you get transport. We estimate about three hundred guests, and the rest are locals. Pinpoint work is required. Some eggs may be broken. Over.”
“Understand, Scout One. We still have nothing from our friend with the Company. He promised results today. He’s burning up phone lines to Manila. Sit tight. Hope to have an action plan for tomorrow. Out.”
“Now what?” Juan asked.
“Did anyone follow you?” Lam asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“There are some troops in the woods here. We better scat back a ways and discourage them. I’d guess about six, maybe eight. Let’s work directly away from the road.”
They moved silently, with all of their gear, and stopped on a gentle slope up the side of the hill. They wedged in behind trees and watched below. On one small clearing they saw eight men moving through the jungle area, with rifles at the ready and bayonets attached.
“Hunting us or just on a training mission?”
Lam checked them with his 6×30 binoculars and shook his head. “Could be a little of both. Must not be permitted for one of the rebels to wander into the jungle away from the camp. You must have made some guard curious.”
“We take them?” Juan asked. “Be a piece of cake.”
“Not our mission, Juan. We go for a full-blown hit on the various targets inside the town with the whole platoon. That’s what we’re here for. If we find something about the hostages, we’ll be a step ahead.”
They moved twice again, working higher on the slope of the mountain that formed one side of the narrow valley that led upstream. At last the hunters turned and hiked back down the slopes to the road and into their camp.
Lam and Juan stayed at their spot far up the slope and watched the camp below. Lam looked at his watch and waited for the time to make another radio call, at 1800.
Murdock had Bradford turn on the SATCOM to receive at 1745. Promptly at 1800 the speaker came on.
“Home Plate, this is Scout One. Calling Home Plate.”
“Yes, we have you, Scout. What’s happening?”
“Juan’s targeted and identified a dozen spots where some courtesy calls could be made at your convenience.”
“Roger that, Scout. We’re still having communication problems here. The old man hasn’t noticed that Juan isn’t around here. That’s good. Don Stroh hasn’t come through yet. You suggest a day or night visit?”
“Night would be safest. Lots of weapons around here. No sign of the hostages.”