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The driver roared out of the parking lot and turned toward the Northway.

Riley held up a hand. "Whoa! Slow down, man. We don't want to get stopped by cops."

As if that was the cue, the flashing lights of a state police patrol car came on a hundred meters behind the van. The big man turned to Riley. "What do I do now?"

"We stop."

1:53 A.M.

The two-and-a-half-ton truck pulled off the flight line and onto the road heading toward the main gate. Powers allowed himself a brief smile, but it was wiped off his face as the driver slammed on his brakes and Powers's head barely missed the dashboard.

"Shit!" Powers looked up. Two air police cars with lights flashing were straddling the road in front of the truck. With drawn pistols, the drivers stood behind the vehicles, aiming at the truck's windshield.

1:54 A.M.

Riley watched the state trooper approach the van warily. The driver rolled down his window. Riley slouched in his seat trying to appear inconspicuous — a hard task considering his darkened face and dirty camouflage fatigues. He crammed his AK-47 under the seat and tried wiping some of the burned cork off his face with his shirt sleeve.

"Would you step out, please?"

The driver obliged. Riley slid lower in his seat.

"You, too, over there on the right."

Riley sighed. He opened his door, got out, and walked around the van. The policeman stared hard at his appearance. The trooper's right hand unclipped the tie-down on his pistol. His fingers rested warily on the butt. "Open the back."

The driver shot a pleading look at Riley. Riley shrugged and nodded. Shaking his head, the big man led the state trooper around to the back. He unlocked the door and swung it wide open.

CHAPTER FIVE

FRIDAY, 23 AUGUST
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
8:00 A.M.

Hanks didn't say a word as Strom entered and took a seat across from him. He simply leaned forward, putting his chin in his hand, and waited for his deputy director to speak.

Strom flipped open his ever-present file folder and studied his notes for a second before beginning. Hanks felt it was all part of an established little performance. He wanted to see how good this one was.

"The secretary of state met with the Colombian ambassador this morning for approximately forty-five minutes. The ambassador again denied any knowledge of who the people might be behind the assassination of Judge Santia. Nothing new there." Strom flipped a page. "The FBI's investigation is—"

"Hold your horses for a second." Hanks sat back in his chair. He was going to enjoy putting Strom in his place. "That's all you got out of that meeting?"

Strom sensed something was amiss and used the time-honored defense of removing himself one step from the information. "That's all my source relayed."

Hanks smiled. "There was quite a bit more to that meeting than protestations of innocence by the Colombian ambassador. In fact, a deal was offered. A deal that we are probably going to be very involved in if the president buys off on it."

Strom frowned, obviously wondering how Hanks could be privy to information that he wasn't aware of. "What kind of deal, sir?"

"President Alegre is offering a way for our two countries to meet mutual goals. We get to strike back at the drug cartel and reduce their production. Alegre has a dangerous internal problem in the form of a powerful criminal element attacked."

"Strike back how, sir?"

Hanks decided he would play with Strom a little longer before dropping the bombshell. He liked watching Strom dangle in ignorance. "That hasn't exactly been spelled out yet. Some of it has to do with a matter before the United Nations that comes up for preliminary vote at the beginning of next week."

Hanks watched as Strom processed that. "The sea-bottom rights issue?"

The director was impressed. "That's part of it."

"What are they offering?"

Hanks couldn't resist the barb. "I thought you could tell me that."

Strom had to admit defeat. "I haven't heard anything, sir."

Hanks was satisfied. "That's good, because this whole thing has got to be kept in real tight. Even if the offer isn't accepted, the very fact that Alegre has made it puts him in a precarious position. If word of this deal leaked, the government down there wouldn't last a week. The cartel would go to war.

"We can't afford to have Alegre fall. He's not the greatest, but at least he's loyal and we can count on him in the crunch. We don't need any loose cannons in power down there."

Hanks could tell he had Strom totally mystified and also extremely interested. Alegre's offer was presently known by only four people in the United States: the president, the secretary of state, the secretary of defense, and Hanks, who had been informed of the proposed deal just twenty minutes earlier over the secure phone line by the secretary of state himself.

Hanks leaned back in his chair. Enough games. "All right. Here's the deal that Alegre presented through the ambassador this morning. Basically the Colombians are offering to allow the United States to conduct covert, unilateral military raids into their country to destroy cocaine processing laboratories."

Strom sat quiet for a few seconds digesting that. "What are the president's feelings on that, sir?"

"The president bought off on it. As you can imagine, Defense wasn't too happy about it, since they're the ones stuck with the dirty work, but the president's so upset over this Springfield thing that he's lost a lot of his patience. The fact that Alegre was the one to offer this deal made the president very inclined to take it up. There still is no solid evidence on who was behind the Springfield attack, but everything points to the drug cartel."

Strom's mind was obviously leaping to some of the implications for the CIA. "How are they going to know where to target?"

"As part of this deal, the Colombian government will provide, through a contact to one of our agents already in country, locations for processing labs they know about."

Hanks looked up. "You know Jameson in Bogota?" Strom vaguely nodded. "Well, he's going to be the one getting the intelligence. Once we get a location, we verify it using satellite imagery. That way we can be sure they aren't leading us on a wild goose chase."

Strom shook his head. "We already did something like that several years ago and it didn't work. In 1986 the army sent some helicopters with pilots down to Colombia on a mission they called Operation Blast Furnace. Basically it involved using our helicopters with their troops. It was pretty much a failure." Strom obviously decided to temper the comparison. "However, this proposal does sound somewhat different."

"It is," Hanks noted dryly. "They're offering to allow our people to hit the processing labs without any Colombian involvement. We have carte blanche. As far as Alegre is concerned we can use anything we want against the designated targets. The president's exact words were that we could wipe them off the face of the earth.' They're not talking about arrests here. They're talking direct military action."

Hanks continued. "Our forces are authorized to violate Colombian air, water, and land space whenever and however they need to, to conduct these missions. All that Alegre asks is that we do it covertly. If word leaked that the government down there was allowing us to do this, he wouldn't last twelve hours before being toppled — both by the drug dealers and by the people. We all know how sensitive Latin American countries are to the presence of American forces."

Hanks decided to let Strom know where he stood on the concept. "It's a good idea. It helps them out by reducing the power of the drug cartel. It helps us out by allowing us to strike right at the source."