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Authors: David Graham

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Footage was run of the interior of the large building. The pictures showed rough workbenches, primitive processing equipment and rows of palettes. Each palette was stacked high with large
clear plastic bags and each of these bags was filled with white powder.

“We’ve learnt from the authorities that this victory exceeded even their most optimistic projections,” Williams’ voice resumed, in tandem with the images.
“Given the size of the plant and the amount of cocaine seized, it’s now thought that they’ve found the main production centre for the entire region. Although firm estimates are
difficult at this stage, it’s speculated that as much as forty per cent of the region’s total processing capacity may have come from this plant.”

The footage ended and Williams was joined by a short man dressed in green fatigues.

“I have Lieutenant Javier Blanco with me to discuss this latest success. Lieutenant, can you put this development into context?”

“We knew that the rebel forces had constructed a number of processing plants for the coca harvests of the region,” the soldier replied. “The rebels guard these plants
zealously; the revenues generated are their lifeblood and enable them to continue their campaign of terror. Initially we suspected that there would be many similarly sized plants, each capable of
producing a small amount of processed cocaine.”

“But that wasn’t the case?”

“No, to our surprise, this plant was many times larger than anything we had envisaged. Based on our estimates of its peak capacity, it could account for ten per cent of
Colombia’s total annual production.”

“Why the deviation from the practice of having many smaller plants?” the reporter asked. “Doesn’t this maximise potential losses when they lose a
plant?”

“I suspect that the rebels sought to benefit from the obvious economies of scale for production and distribution. This is not a political struggle we’re dealing with but a
criminal one.” Blanco’s disdain for the rebels shone through. “A movement truly committed to the advancement of legitimate political views would never have tied itself so closely
to the proceeds of drugs.”

“FARC’s position has been that they’re not directly involved in the narcotics trade but merely levy a tax on the cartels, just as they’d tax any multinational doing
business in this area. You don’t believe this?”

“Absolutely not. We and our colleagues in the US Administration consider the rebels and the cartels to be indivisible. To find where one stops and the other begins is impossible. The
more success we have against FARC and the ELN, the closer we will be to eliminating the cartels.”

“Thank you Lieutenant Blanco. So, another impressive success from Plan Coca and optimism that a drug-free Colombia is one step closer. This is Caroline Williams for IBNC in Putumayo,
Colombia.”

The report ended and the broadcast returned to the studio. A wider shot than before showed the distinguished figure of Senator Charles Dalton alongside Whittaker.

The report ended and the broadcast returned to the studio. A wider shot than before showed the distinguished figure of Senator Charles Dalton alongside Whittaker.

“Senator, before we talk about the broader aspects of the Plan, a question about your own role. You’ve been one of the biggest supporters of Plan Coca and, consequently,
you’ve come in for strong criticism from some quarters. Do these mounting successes represent a personal vindication?”

“It’s not a matter of vindication. This is far too important for anyone to be keeping a personal score sheet,” the senator replied, looking aggrieved. “The reason I
supported Plan Coca was its ability, beyond any other strategy, to deal with the crisis that’s crippled our country.”

“And your reaction to this latest report?”

“Developments such as those we’ve just seen are great news. If we can defeat the drug producers and traffickers at source then we all benefit. From those spared addiction, to all
of their families, friends and co-workers, not to mention the easing of the burden on over-stretched law enforcement and social services.”

“And apparently the benefits are already being seen on the streets of some of our major cities?”

“Yes, Sandra, I thought it was vital to show end-to-end commitment to the Plan. With that in mind, my office established contacts with various police forces around the country,
enabling us to receive direct feedback from the professionals who fight the war at street-level.”

“Allowing the closest possible monitoring of the situation?”

“Precisely, no one is in a better position than our police. Some time ago we set a benchmark against which we could measure subsequent improvements.”

“And you’ve started to see evidence of such improvements?”

“Indeed. In the past three months, the data clearly indicates that the availability of cocaine and heroin in key cities has declined and that the price has risen accordingly. This is
the best news we could have hoped for. It’s grassroots confirmation of real progress.”

“Can this progress be quantified?” she asked.

“Well, it’s important to note that this is an informal study, by simple virtue of our limited resources. That said, I’m confident that the research is a reliable indicator.
Our figures show street prices climbing an average of fifteen per cent across the board and by up to twenty-three per cent in some areas. Experts say this translates to a more than ten per cent
drop in the availability of heroin and cocaine.”

“And to those critics who dismissed your findings when you announced them earlier, maintaining that these price rises could be due to local fluctuations?”

“Rubbish!” Annoyance flickered then disappeared quickly as the senator’s positive mood rallied. “An isolated price hike might be discountable but consistent rises in
so many areas and of such significance? I don’t think opponents can continue to begrudge Plan Coca the praise it rightfully deserves.”

three

Madrigal sat on the veranda alone, looking out at the sunset. He had left instructions that he did not want to be disturbed while he considered what had happened and the
appropriate response. The fact that it had been possible for the attackers to strike so surgically meant that they must have had access to inside information, but this was not his prime concern. He
knew that any organisation as sprawling as theirs could not be totally protected from infiltration. What worried him most was the progression, the dangerous precedents that were set with each new
incident. The Alliance needed to appear unassailable.

None of their enquiries in Europe had yielded any firm proof of Kosovar involvement. He had tried to ensure their investigation had been conducted discreetly. The Kosovars themselves had
recently raised the subject of the attacks, mentioning that word of some disturbances had filtered back to them. One could infer that this demonstrated their innocence. Then again, maybe that was
their intention.

He placed a call to Raul Cervantes and asked him to come over. Cervantes was the number two in the Colombian organisation and the only person he trusted. They had known each other since they
were teenagers and he had learnt to rely on the big man’s judgement. People often underestimated him because of an apparent slowness which he was only too happy to exaggerate, but Madrigal
knew better. Even more valuable than Cervantes’ capacity for violence and his unwavering loyalty was his well-developed intellect. When Cervantes arrived, he strode in casually and slumped in
the other chair. Whereas other people would tread lightly around the drug lord, Cervantes had known him too long to stand on ceremony.

“We’re going to have to move against the Fifteen Families,” Madrigal began.

“Based on so little?” Cervantes asked. “We have no proof!”

“You know about the hijacking?”

“Yes, yes,” the big man replied. “But there’s only the captain’s questionable assertions that the hijackers were Eastern European!”

“I know, but combined with the attack on the refinery in Mexico ...”

Cervantes shook his head.

“I can’t believe we’re ready to risk a war. Luis, can we even be sure we’d win?”

If it had been anyone else, Madrigal might have dismissed them as cowards, but he had seen Cervantes prove his bravery countless times over the years. “You think they can match
us?”

“Maybe not financially.” Cervantes shrugged. “But then they don’t have to contend with a hostile state initiative backed by a foreign superpower. Not to mention some of
the fucking lunatics they can call on.”

Madrigal knew all about the Kosovars’ ties to various fundamentalist groups but did not see what choice he had.

“If we don’t move, the Alliance will fall apart.”

“Why do you say that? Has that asshole Zaragosa demanded action?”

“No, but I can’t afford to wait until he does. If I don’t take the initiative now, later it will look like I’m buckling to internal pressure. That would bring its own
problems.”

Cervantes knew he was right but had deep misgivings about the direction they were taking. They sat in silence for some time, the oppressive weight of Madrigal’s decision hanging over
them.

“Okay, then we need to decide what it is we want from the action,” Cervantes said at last. “Are we aiming to wipe the Kosovars out?”

“Jesus, no. I just want them to back off, if they are behind the attacks. Even if we
could
take them off the board completely the cost would be too high and who knows how it would
affect our access to Europe.”

“Then we’ll need to ensure that they can survive whatever we do.”

“Yes but on the other hand, if our action is too weak, it might encourage them further.”

“Not to mention providing Rodriguez and the others with something else to fucking stir things up.”

“Exactly. Tell me, you’ve had some dealings with Lubomir Uka, how did he strike you?”

“Careful, a planner, someone who takes his time and tries to see the bigger picture. He balances out some of the other more impetuous leaders of the Fifteen Families.”

“That was my impression as well which is why any targets we select should belong to him. If we were to move against one of the others there would be no subsequent opportunity to broker a
truce, regardless of how much control we exercised.”

“You’re hoping Uka will see sense and convince the others to go along. It’s a big fucking gamble, what if he can’t do it, what if we’ve misread him?”

“Then we’ll have to deal with it,” he said matter-of-factly. “Any suggestions on what we should target?”

“I know Uka controls a number of heroin refineries and depots in Ankara. It should be possible to draw up a list of four or five of the less crucial ones.”

“Perfect,” the drug lord nodded, “the material loss would be minor but it would still make a statement. There’s one more thing we need to consider however.”

“What’s that?”

“After the attacks, someone will have to approach Uka, explain the restraint we showed and stress that this should be seen as a conclusion to matters.”

The two men locked eyes.

“I’ll do it,” Cervantes said.

“You’re sure?”

“Who else can we trust?”

Madrigal leaned forward and tapped Raul’s knee.

“Listen, I want you to be careful, you’re not to participate directly in the raids. Conduct the meeting with Uka and then get back here.”

“He’ll see sense, don’t worry,” Cervantes replied, pushing the doubts from his mind.

“Okay, start preparations and let me know when we’re ready to review.”

Larsen watched the three bodyguards get out of the car and scan the immediate vicinity. Once Bajo, the enormous bodyguard, was satisfied he leant back into the rear of the car
to give the all-clear to Dobroshi. The four men entered the lobby of the apartment building and left the driver to start circling the district until the appointed time. Larsen was satisfied after
two weeks of surveillance that the information had been solid.

BOOK: Incitement
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