Stevens signed her in at the embassy guard shack, as required, ignoring the curious glances of the two marines on duty there. He took her around to the back of the embassy compound where all the living quarters were and led her to his one-bedroom apartment. He was slightly embarrassed as she took in the normal state of disarray. Even having a maid come in every other day did little to dent the mess he managed to generate in between.
He closed the door and looked at Maria. Somehow she seemed older and more experienced now. She came up to him and looked into his eyes. "Maybe we can look at the books later. There are other things we can do now." He couldn't believe it when she put her arms around his neck and tilted her face up to his.
Stevens managed to survive the rest of the evening without having a heart attack, although a doctor monitoring his pulse rate surely would have compared it to that of a runner battling for the lead in the Olympic marathon.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Riley picked at his breakfast as he surveyed the main isolation room. The gear was packed and Eyes One was almost ready to go. At 1300 they would ride over to the airfield. They had done their initial coordination with the aircrew the previous evening. All that was needed was to rig the aircraft prior to takeoff at 1400.
The schedule today called for a few items to be accomplished prior to departure, the major ones being weapons firing and zeroing and a final sterilization check.
Riley had had a hard time falling asleep last night. He'd run the mission through in his mind innumerable times, looking at it from different angles, trying to find a mistake or some possibility they had overlooked. While tossing and turning, he'd also spent some time evaluating himself. He knew his strengths. He was an expert shot with both the pistol and submachine gun. He was proficient in the martial arts and in excellent shape. He was experienced in Special Forces operations. He felt he was a good leader who utilized the strengths of his men effectively and worked around their weaknesses.
Absently rubbing the two pockmarks that adorned his lower right stomach, Riley continued his self-analysis as he sipped his coffee. He considered another advantage that only Powers and he shared: both had been in the heat of combat. Although Riley's combat experience had lasted less than a week, it had impressed upon him the difference between training and the real thing. He hoped the other four members of Eyes One would react well when it occurred.
Riley put away his worries for now. He'd find out soon enough.
Having finished what he could eat of his breakfast, Riley sought out Powers. "Let's do another equipment check. This time you look at the rucks, and I'll do weapons and personal gear."
Powers nodded. They lined up the men and rucksacks in the hallway, leaving the isolation area to Eyes Two. Riley checked the people while Powers went through the rucksacks.
Each man was dressed in unmarked green jungle fatigues, a common enough outfit for paramilitary people throughout Central America. They wore jungle boots — leather boots with canvas sides. For headgear they would wear the radio helmets. This wasn't something they were used to but it shouldn't be a problem. Most carried gloves of one sort or another. Riley used flight gloves, of thin leather and Nomex. Although it would be warm where they were going, the gloves were useful in negotiating the vegetation and handling hot weapons if it came down to that.
Over his fatigues, each man wore a nylon mesh combat vest that fastened in the front with Velcro. Hanging on the vest were two one-quart canteens, ammunition pouches for extra magazines, a strobe light, a knife, a pistol, and a small butt pack that held critical supplies.
Every man carried a knife of his own choosing. Riley had managed to break most of the men of the habit of carrying a big, Rambo-type knife. Such a weapon might be useful if the bearer got into a sword fight with a Roman gladiator but was next to worthless for what most combat knives are used for — silent killing. Riley himself carried a slender, double-edged, six-inch-long commando knife. He maintained the edges in razor-sharp condition. The thinness of the blade allowed it to penetrate between bones — whether in the back, chest, or neck. The double edges meant he could slash in either direction without having to fumble around in the dark.
For a personal side arm each man carried the Beretta 9mm semiautomatic pistol on his combat vest. The Berettas were the same as those being issued in the army but were not engraved with serial numbers, since they had been supplied by the CIA.
Riley, Frank Partusi, and Hosea Marzan each carried the MP5SD3 9mm submachine gun as their primary weapon. The collapsing-stock weapon was equipped with an integral silencer and would be effective at close quarters. Powers carried his favorite weapon — the Soviet-made AK-47 with a folding metal stock. He had carried an AK ever since Vietnam and swore by its reliability under adverse conditions. Holder carried the SAW machine gun. Firing 5.56mm rounds from a hundred-round drum, the weapon was a fine piece of machinery with a range of nine hundred meters. Riley hoped the SAW would keep any bad guys out of arms' reach if they made contact.
Lane carried the heaviest and most unique weapon. The Haskins .50-caliber sniper rifle looked like an overgrown elephant gun. The bolt-action rifle held a five-round magazine and broke into two pieces for jumping and transporting. A ten-power night-vision scope could be mounted on top. The massive bullet, a half inch in diameter, could reach out over two thousand meters and was guaranteed to put its hapless victim down. A .50-caliber round could tear off a man's arm or leg. They were carrying the Haskins for insurance. If Spectre didn't take care of the whole target, or some people escaped, Lane would use the sniper rifle to reach out and touch someone. Trained at the Special Operations Target Interdiction Course, Lane could hit a five-inch circle at one and a half kilometers with the Haskins.
The rucksacks Powers was checking were regular army-issue Alice mediums with external frames. They were in use by various government and guerrilla forces throughout Central and South America. Although the team would be on the ground for less than twelve hours, the rucks were needed to carry the technical equipment.
Riley and Marzan each carried a complete PSC-3 radio along with a Vinson crypto device. This added up to almost thirty pounds of weight per system. Holder was packing some spare batteries for the radios along with extra drum magazines for his SAW machine gun. Powers and Lane each carried a laser designator. Partusi carried an M-5 medical kit along with several different types of IVs in his ruck. Each man also carried a substantial survival kit in his ruck, supplementing the smaller one in the butt pack. Additionally, each ruck contained two Claymore mines and spare ammunition for their weapons.
Having checked the men and their weapons, Riley had Powers look him over. First, Powers checked Riley's weapon. Then he went through Riley's pockets and equipment to ensure that nothing indicated a point of origin — no rings, ID tags, pieces of paper, wallet, and so on. When Powers was done, Riley glanced at his watch — two hours before they were due at the range to test-fire their weapons. Riley sat the team members down and started quizzing them on the mission.
Stevens lay in bed and stared aimlessly at the ceiling. His eyes couldn't quite focus. Maria was gone physically but she was conspicuously present in his mind. Stevens knew he should be getting up and going to work but he couldn't yet. He wanted to rewind and replay one more time his mental video of the events of the previous night.
Some of the pictures on his mental screen portrayed acts he hadn't known were physically possible. Stevens laughed to himself. Hell, his wife had never even come close to coaxing that kind of reaction out of him.