Eyes of the Hammer (The Green Berets) (38 page)

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Authors: Bob Mayer

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BOOK: Eyes of the Hammer (The Green Berets)
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Pike had also watched the tap-dancing by the Department of Defense and Department of State on the issue of the bodies on the video, which had still not been released. Pike didn't relish the idea of seeing those young fellows he had commanded being paraded like meat. He'd seen too much death in his time. The fact that there were only four bodies wasn't lost on him either. Powers really might be alive.

Putting all the pieces together told Pike one thing: Riley was in a bad situation and it wasn't likely to get any better. Pike wasn't sure what he could do to help, but he knew he had to try. He took out a notepad and started war-gaming options.

 

RING MAN'S VILLA

3:30 P.M.

 

Ponte took the phone call about Pablo's and his partner's deaths. The news was disturbing, not because two of their men had been killed but because the identity of the killer was unknown. The kid tending the bar had given a poor description of the man Pablo and his sidekick had met. It might or might not be the American who had approached the worker the previous night.

Ponte decided it was time to bring the boss up to speed. He knocked on the door of the office adjacent to his.

"Come in."

Ponte entered and walked over to the Ring Man, who was talking on the phone to the man who was leading their war in Medellin against what remained of Suarez's operation. The Ring Man's latest attraction, a slight girl of fifteen, was sitting on the corner of the desk while the Ring Man's free hand absently fondled her.

Ponte waited nervously until the conversation was over. The Ring Man never liked bad news, and the report about Pablo wasn't exactly the best.

Ring Man hung up and turned to his aide with a small smile on his face. At least it looked like he was in a good mood to start with. "We are doing well in Medellin. Many of Suarez's people are seeing the light and switching over. I think in another week we will have firm control there."

The Ring Man rubbed his hands together, oblivious of Ponte's discomfort. "Soon I will be able to focus on the government and the Ramirezes. Have you heard any word from Ariel in Cartagena? Will he be able to get to the Ramirezes?"

Ponte shook his head. "He has not called back yet. I talked to him this morning, and he said he had some ideas. He was going to see how feasible they were this afternoon. We should hear something tonight."

Ring Man nodded. "Good. Ariel is a good man even though he is a foreigner. What would we do without our Israeli friends, eh? They teach us how to kill so much better." Ring Man laughed and pulled the girl onto his lap.

Ponte agreed that the handful of former Israeli military men who were in Colombia advising the various gangs were a valuable asset. The Israeli government formally denied their presence and privately abhorred the fact that these men were there. But there were always a certain number of military men, no matter what the nationality, who were willing to sell their skills to the highest bidder.

Ariel had been a paratroop commander in the Israeli Army. In coming to Colombia he'd given up his right to go back to Israel, but he had exchanged his citizenship for money and the opportunity to exercise his "talents." The fact that Ring Man trusted him with the war against the Ramirezes spoke volumes about his ability.

Ponte knew that if the Ring Man grew any more fond of the Israeli, Ariel might well end up sitting in Ponte's office next to the Ring Man. That did little to dispel the unease Ponte felt about having to relay the news about Pablo.

"What else is new, my friend? Anything I need to know about?"

Ponte nodded. "There is a strange American here in Bogota. He's been asking questions about Maria."

Ring Man shrugged. "Kill him."

Ponte licked his lips. "I sent Pablo to take care of him this afternoon."

"Good. Then we don't have to worry about the strange American anymore."

"Pablo is dead."

The Ring Man's humor vanished and he abruptly stood up, letting the girl fall off his lap. "The American killed him?"

"I'm not sure."

"What the hell do you mean you're not sure?" the Ring Man yelled.

Ponte backed up slightly. "I mean, I think it was the American. Pablo went to the Embassy Cafe to meet the American. There was a man there. Apparently they fought and Pablo was killed."

"You have no witnesses?"

"The bar-boy saw the man, but his description is not good enough to tell if it was the American. The American who asked about Maria looked like a Latino and was short. That is the same description of the man who killed Pablo. Since the description is the same and the American was supposed to be there at that time and place, I think it must have been him."

The Ring Man sat back down, his anger changing to thoughtfulness. "Was Pablo alone?"

Ponte sighed. He'd hoped he could keep the second man out of it. "No. He took one man with him. He was killed also."

The Ring Man raised an eyebrow. "This American killed Pablo and another man? How were they killed?"

"The backup had a knife shoved into his jaw going up into the brain. Pablo's neck was broken. It looks like Pablo was in a pretty bad fight before he was killed, so maybe he hurt the American."

The Ring Man looked even more impressed. He'd expected his men had been shot. But whoever this stranger was, he used his hands well, taking out two armed men.

The Ring Man pulled the girl back onto his lap and pondered the information. The whole thing was strange. The Americans had always been reluctant to use force. In fact, the Ring Man despised the American people as a whole for their failure to use the power they had. The DEA had always been a joke in Colombia. Any aggressive agent was usually transferred back to the United States. They were more concerned with image than with results.

Ring Man stared straight ahead. His eyes grew vacant and Ponte stirred uncomfortably. That meant the Ring Man was plotting. Ponte waited for almost five minutes while the Ring Man's internal computer worked. Finally his boss's eyes refocused.

"I don't think this American was DEA. This isn't their style. What about CIA?"

Ponte shook his head. "I have had no reports on any new actions by the CIA. It's possible, though."

"Whoever this man is, he wants Maria. That means he probably knows about the connection between Maria and Stevens. Is he trying to find Stevens?" Ring Man didn't wait for an answer as a new thought struck him. "He might be after the American we captured. They must know by now that there were only four bodies on the video. So maybe they figure there is one left alive."

Ponte shook his head. "But just one man? Wouldn't they be sending more down here if that's what they are after?"

Ring Man didn't know. "The Americans are funny people. They do strange things. Maybe this man is just here to get information. Whatever the case, I want the American prisoner moved. Bring him here. They will never be able to get at him here."

"What about Maria?"

"She knows nothing about the American prisoner. She's all right where she is. Warn her, though, to be careful."

"What should I do about the American in the city?"

"Find him and kill him."

 

PENTAGON

3:50 P.M.

 

Pike had done as much as he could over the phone. It was time now to do some face-to-face talking and get the wheels moving. He took the elevator to the first floor and strode to the outer corridor. The offices here had become familiar to him over the past week during his mission coordination. Right now Pike was going to find out how far down the chairman had passed word of the termination of the Hammer missions and Pike's own loss of stature.

He turned in under a sign that read DCSOP-SO and pulled up in front of the secretary who guarded the inner sanctum. "Is your boss busy, Jean?"

The secretary smiled at Pike. "Let me buzz him, Mike."

Pike licked his lips as he waited. Throughout the Hammer missions he'd been the one coordinating all the various parts. The DCSOP-SO, Lieutenant General Linders, had been one of his key points of contact, in charge of all support from the Special Operations Forces of the different services. The only time, as far as Pike knew, that Linders had had direct contact with Macksey was the initiating phone call and his attendance at the first briefback. All other contact had been through Pike.

"The general says go in, Mike." Pike nodded his thanks and entered.

Linders stood up to greet him. "Hey, Mike, I'm sorry about those guys you lost. It's a hell of a mess. I've had a bunch of calls from 1st SOW and SOCOM about it. I did what you asked and referred them to the Public Affairs Office but I'm not sure they're buying it. Slaight down at Bragg is being a particular pain in the butt trying to find out what the hell happened."

Pike shook his head as he sat in the offered seat. "Yes, sir. It's a problem all around. The video those assholes are releasing is screwing up the cover story. The chairman's doing a lot of tap-dancing on it. I guess he's under pressure from State and the White House to keep everything under wraps, trying to protect President Alegre's involvement."

Linders cursed. "I don't know why they don't just come out and put everything aboveboard. Let us go down and kick some ass and not have to do all this sneaky stuff. Plus it's a disgrace to those men who died not to have their accomplishments noted."

Pike was relaxing. It was obvious from his comments that Linders didn't know Pike had been fired. He decided to go for broke. "Well, that's kind of what I'm here to talk to you about."

Linders looked interested. "You going to run Hammer Four on that same target?"

Pike shook his head. "No, that target has been compromised. We're moving on to Hammer Five."

 

BOGOTA

6:00 P.M.

 

Riley and Westland sat on the edge of the bed watching the Spanish broadcast of the Colombian news on the small TV in their room. The video of the American bodies made the lead story.

Riley watched the screen fill with a slow pan of the bodies of Partusi, Marzan, Holder, and Lane. The camera was obviously handheld and the video was of poor quality, yet there was no denying the identity of the dead. Nor would there be any denying that the four men had been shot up pretty badly. The back half of Lane's head was missing where a round had torn through. The video was about twenty seconds long and showed only the bodies. No sign of Powers, dead or alive.

Riley listened to the comments of the newscaster:

"This video was delivered to El Tiempo yesterday evening. It was accompanied by a letter signed 'Protector of the People.' The text of the letter is: " 'People of Colombia, see what your president has allowed in your country. American soldiers come here and attack our citizens. And President Alegre knew about it! He allows Yankee imperialists to invade our sovereign territory and kill our people. These Americans were killed attacking farmers in the Barranquilla province.

" 'Take these bodies as our warning that we will not accept this situation.' "

The newscaster came back on.

"The office of the president has denied the report that the American soldiers were in Colombian territory at the request of President Alegre.

"The American government claims that the soldiers were killed in a helicopter crash flying out of Panama. The American military maintains that the aircraft was misoriented in flight and the crash in Colombian territory was a result of this navigational error. Washington denies that American forces have been conducting any sort of operations in our country."

Riley turned off the TV as the story shifted. He didn't feel quite so bad about the sicarios he had killed this afternoon.

 

8:30 P.M.

 

"Nice wheels." Riley took a walk around the beat-up Ford Pinto. "Your man definitely worked hard to get us something with a lot of power. At least it will fit in with all the other cars we've seen around here, except of course the BMWs and Mercedeses owned by the drug people. I've never seen so many fancy cars in one place before."

Westland laughed as she got in the driver's side. "I think there've been something like ten thousand new millionaires in Colombia over the past ten years, and they all want the good stuff."

Kate cranked the engine. Riley was relieved to hear that the engine sounded in good shape. "Do you know the way?"

"Si, Senor Gonzalo."

As Kate drove, Riley went to work disconnecting the interior dome light. She wound their way out of the city. By the time she cleared the northern limits of Bogota the sun was almost all the way down and night was beginning to blanket the sky. She turned to the north along a highway with the mountains looming in close on the right side.

Riley was sleeping on the passenger side. The lack of sleep and tremendous amounts of adrenaline he'd gone through in the last forty-eight hours had finally caught up with him.

Westland drove slowly along the two-lane road, allowing Riley as much sleep as possible. After twenty minutes she reached over and gently tapped him on the shoulder.

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