Richardson was pouring over the maps and the terrain. Several times she pulled out a ruler and measured places on the map. She wasn’t too happy. “Looking at these maps and images, I can see where we could get a plane in, but it would be obvious as hell. The best place to insert looks to be right down here,” she said pointing toward a grassy meadow nearly eight miles from the compound opposite from the airstrip. “It’s clear enough to make a drop, but not any place for a pickup. If we dropped them all in here, it would take at least a day to make their way to that compound.”
“Why so long? It’s only a few miles,” said the Secretary of State.
Richardson looked over at the man. She knew he had never had any military experience. “Because, Mister Secretary, they will have to make their own path there through this thick forest. More than likely, it is full of undergrowth. In addition, they will be moving very carefully and stealthily. That makes very slow progress. If it’s too dense, it might take them two days. I’m sure Parente has heightened security all through the area, so there is no way they could move by road. Even so,” she said motioning to the map, “there aren’t any. And take a look at the topography. There are mountains and valleys they have to cross. Those guys will be bone tired by the time they get there.”
“Does that mean we give them another day?” asked the President.
Richardson grinned. “Hell no. That’s what these guys train for. Besides, from what I hear, Master Sergeant Ricks may just sprint the whole way. He’s a little peeved that someone has hurt a friend of his.”
The people around the table chuckled. All of them knew Ricks by reputation and some from personal experience. Richardson pointed at the airfield. “But this thing is perfect for getting the people out. The idea is to sneak in, rescue the hostages, kill all the captors and get out without creating an alarm. Roger Hammond had a great idea of doing this and has stopped down at Davis Monthan to check it out.” She glanced up at the people in the room. “You know, I think the man is psychic,” she grinned. “Somehow he seemed to sense there might be an airfield somewhere close, and be damned if he didn’t peg it. We’ll get the plane ready and get it there to pick the team and the hostages up. It’s fast enough to get them across the Colombian border in no time. The trick is not setting off any alarms. One stray fighter and the game is over.”
“How will you get them in?” asked Dunning.
“I can answer that,” said the Secretary of State. “I personally talked to the Brazilian Foreign Minister and General Foote, here, talked to the head of their Air Force. We will be flying the team down in a regular jet and then transferring to a Brazilian C-130. It will conveniently be making a training flight between Brasilia and Mexico and will traverse over this area,” he said.
“There’s no radar in this remote part of the country, so a plane dropping low to disgorge our troops won’t be noticed,” said Richardson. “Then it will continue on it training flight and no one will be the wiser.”
“I take it, they are unaware of where they will be going or what this is about,” said the President, a little upset that people had brought others into the secret.
State sheepishly raised his hand. “Actually, Mister President, I know the Foreign Minister personally. Have known him for years. When all this happened, he gave me a call and even suggested that Parente might be to blame. They hate him with a passion. He volunteered the services of his military in case we needed them. When he called me a couple days ago, I asked if they might be willing to provide some services. He immediately set up a direct line and then brought in only one other person, the General, besides their President. No one will have the faintest until after it is all done.”
“He also checked with us,” said Dunning. “Our people are with them and it looks iron clad. We waited until we were sure it might work before bringing it to you tonight,” he said.
O’Bannon nodded. “Okay, it makes sense. I doubt the Venezuelans would shoot down the aircraft of a neighboring country in the middle of a training flight. Should I call their President?”
“Plausible deniability,” said State. “Neither of you have spoken to the other about this.”
The President nodded and raised his hands. “I concede. Now what else is going on?”
Admiral Johnson grinned. “Hammond is giving them fits. The Iowa is underway with a small task group and today the North Carolina got underway. Hammond has mapped out several port visits and visual displays which should keep them occupied. We also ordered and LHD and an LSD to join up with them. There are only about one hundred Marines aboard, but that should be enough to scare people to death if they are expecting a landing. We have noticed that the Venezuelans have already begun building up their coastal defenses. As long as it draws them off, it should help our team get the job done. At the same time, we have Ospreys on the ships and LCACs inside. If there were an emergency, we might be able to go in and do a rescue. I already have the aircraft carrier Gerald Ford training in the Gulf of Mexico. They could respond on short notice. We’ll keep them back unless we need them. No use getting people too scared. Until you say go, they remain well to the north. But the rest of the group and the amphibs will begin operating much farther south. The port visit in Aruba alone should shake things up,” Johnson said.
The President was grinning now. “Looks like you have thought of a lot these past few days. What about the Air Force?”
General Foote smiled. “I have enough surveillance in the area to tell us if the Venezuelans take to the air, but we don’t have any fighters or bombers in the area. If we started putting them in Colombia, everyone would know about it. We’ll sit this one out and let the boys in crackerjacks handle it.”
“Okay, what’s the next step?” asked the President.
“A lot, sir,” said Richardson. “If we can find out which building the hostages are in, and where the opposing forces all are, we should be able to shove off tomorrow night. That will give us time to get the final planning and equipping done. Keep in mind; this is a quick and dirty. There’s a lot left to chance. We will have done what we can, but you never know what might happen. Despite that, I am very confident in our team and what we have set out. The rest is up to luck,” she said.
The President nodded. “What about you General?” he said to Gray.
General Gray had been sitting back watching the team work. It was amazing how well they still worked together even three years after they had first met. He shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing to say. You have before you the means to get our people back and put a real hurt on that son of a bitch who killed one of our people. It’s a good thing I’m not going, or I might ride into Caracas and personally shoot that maniac.”
The people around the table laughed. “Remember what I said a few years ago. It’s still true. Spur us on and we’ll get the job done. It looks like our team is ready. We have excellent ingress and egress. There are backups and contingencies if all hell breaks loose. The worst thing someone could say if everything goes sour is that we tried, and tried damn hard. But now we know who did this. Now we know where he has them. And now we know what we’re going to do to get them back. The blame has shifted from you to him, even though the media types don’t know it yet. Let them wait,” he said.
“The let’s meet just after noon tomorrow and you can brief me on the final plans. “Get the team ready to leave by no later than 6 pm tomorrow. The quicker this happens, the quicker we can all rest soundly. Thank you all for getting the job done,” he said as he stood up from his seat.