Sending Messages

Chapter 14 Consequences

Presidential candidate Gregory Foster had been startled when his Secret Service detail had suddenly asked him to get in a car for a special trip. He had just arrived back in Washington when it happened and he hadn’t even the time to go home. The black suburban with its escort, whisked him through the streets of Washington without a pause. His surprise deepened when he found himself at the gates of the White House. Instead of taking him to the portico like most VIPs, he was instead taken to the underground garage. The vehicle swerved around several cars and turns until it stopped in front of a set of elevator doors. The door beside him opened and an agent asked him to follow him. It took practically no time before the doors opened on the main floor of the White House. Following the agents, he could tell he was being led toward the Oval Office. Several of the staff smiled at him as he passed. A door was opened and Foster found himself in the Oval Office.

President O’Bannon rose from his desk and greeted him. “Greg, it’s good to see you,” he said. Foster took the President’s hand, but O’Bannon could tell he was unsure about the situation. He ushered Foster to the couch and sat beside him.

“I trust this is your concession,” Foster joked.

The President smiled, “Not quite,” he said. “Greg, something is beginning to happen tonight and you are going to remain with me until it ends, one way or another,” he said.

“What does this have to do with me? I have a lot on my plate,” said Foster.

“I know, but it is essential that you remain with me for the next day and a half,” O’Bannon said.

Foster chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s out of the question. I have a campaign to run,” he said.

“Not anymore. This takes precedence. Unless you are ready to be charged with violation of Title 18 of the U. S. Code,” said O’Bannon.

It was like he had struck Foster with a giant hammer. He seemed to sink into the couch and his face took on a pale and frightened look. After a few seconds he murmured, “Title 18?”

O’Bannon sat back in his seat and looked at the man. In all the years he had served as a prosecutor, he knew the look of someone who had been caught. This was it. “Greg, I never thought I would ever be faced saying this to one of my colleagues and especially someone I have an admiration for. I need to know, what Williamson has on you to make you be a part of this,” he said.

“What?” Foster weakly stuttered.

O’Bannon reached to the side table and retrieved a small recorder. He played the first recording. It clearly had his voice talking to Jonas about the hostages. Then he played another where Williamson mentioned he had something on Foster that made him go along. At the end of the second recording, the President shut off the machine. “Greg, how in the hell did you get mixed up in something like this?” he asked.

By now, Foster’s head was tilted downward. He stared at his lap vacantly. “I didn’t know until it was too late. Williamson had the operation on motion and it was either go along or be exposed. I was stuck with an incident long ago that would ruin me. With the operation already underway it was further complicated. By then if it was found out, I would become a traitor to the country I wanted desperately to lead.” He looked up at the President. “I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t. The only thing I had left was to go along and hope no one would ever know,” Foster said.

O’Bannon took a deep breath. “I figured as much. When I heard your comments on the tape, it seemed almost more like a plea than someone plotting. Will you tell me what it was so long ago that would get you in trouble?”

The pain in Foster’s eyes was growing. But in a way, it seemed as if he had to get it out in the open. “In college, during my junior year, I was hanging out with this girl. It was one of those frat parties and everyone was drunk. I know, it’s no excuse, but that’s the way it was. One minute we were dancing and the next I had pulled her up to my room. She didn’t want to, but my brothers in the frat wouldn’t understand me letting go that easy. The more she fought, the more excited I got. When it was over, I just passed out. Some of the brothers got her back to her dorm. Two months later I saw her in the quad on campus. She was pregnant. We didn’t want the baby and she didn’t want her parents to know, so I contacted my uncle, who ran one of those clinics. But something went wrong. During the procedure, she started hemorrhaging and they couldn’t stop it. She died on the table. My uncle told me not to worry, that no one would know who did it. I saw her parents later on. She was their only child,” he said talking more to the floor than to O’Bannon.

The President could see it in his face; the hurt, the years of blaming himself, the sorrow for what had happened. The man was being honest. Despite the fact he had tried to pursue a ‘clean’ campaign and that he had sincerely wanted to get good things done, the same old back door politics had brought him down. O’Bannon wondered how it could have gotten this low. Sitting before him was a good man, but he had been corrupted far worse than anything he had ever seen. He reached out and placed his hand on Foster’s shoulder. “How did Williamson get this?”

Foster took a deep breath. “About ten years ago his committee was investigating the abortion clinics and the records of my uncle’s clinic came under scrutiny. My uncle had left some notes in the file and had forgotten to purge it.” He looked up at O’Bannon. “That’s one of the big reasons he came on as my Chief of Staff. He showed me the records and said he wanted the job, otherwise he would make sure they got out,” he said. Foster chuckled slightly, “Even some of my staff could tell something was wrong. I was hoping I would get elected and then make him go away, but lately it looked like that was a dream as well,” he said.

O’Bannon got up and poured Foster a drink. Foster grabbed the glass with a shaky hand and downed the scotch with one gulp.

O’Bannon sat back down. “Greg, I wish you had put a stop to this much earlier. But now we’re going to play out this mess until either everyone is dead or there’s a ton of glory.”

Foster looked up at the man. “What do you mean?”

“Damn it, because of what Williamson has cooked up, I am now sending men into harm’s way! One person has already died and many more might follow because somebody forgot that we serve the people instead of the other way around. The rescue team is in the air, so now you’re going to get an early taste of what it’s like to be a President. You are going to sit right here with me until it’s over, one way or the other,” O’Bannon said pointing his finger at Foster. He sat back in his chair. “I’m also keeping you here so that you can’t get any deeper into this. Williamson’s head is going to roll. I might be able to keep one head chopping quiet, but not two. You will remain here until it’s over, then you will continue your campaign. Can you imagine what the American public would feel if they found out what your campaign did. They are already deeply suspicious of their elected officials. According to the polls, we are just one step away from the entire nation calling for a constitutional convention. We might find our entire form of government rewritten, just because of what has happened. So I am now going to protect you. Your secrets will be buried deep. You will continue your campaign, but with the resignation of your Chief of Staff, things will understandably fall apart. The nation will never know just how bad this system got. Greg, you will be allowed to bow down with dignity and move aside. But not before we both get this system fixed. It’s going to be you and me. In my next four years, we have to fix things in our parties so that this bickering and this type of backstage win-or-be-damned attitude ends. We are going to turn things around so that the word statesmanship is returned to political vocabulary. Our nation has suffered enough,” he said, finally calming some from the rage he felt.

O’Bannon got up and poured another drink. “I’m not going to be like Williamson. None of what we have said will ever come out. I’m not out to control you, Greg, but I have a real job to do. I’m inviting you to do this with me. Are you in?”

Foster looked up at the man. O’Bannon could see a change in his face. The fear was gone, but more, there was a look of determination. “You would work with a guy some would call a traitor?”

“Greg, you’re no more a traitor than I am. I don’t like what happened, but as far as I can tell, you weren’t the one who planned this. The FBI has dug into everything and we have it all. Members of your staff even noticed when the change occurred in you and in the office. It didn’t happen until the plans for this were well underway. When this eventually comes out, Williamson will hang, not you. But I wasn’t kidding when I said I needed your help. It’s going to take the leadership to make things change. Right now, we’re at the top. So I ask again, are you in?”

Foster stood and offered his hand. “Mister President, I will do whatever I can to make sure things change. You have my word,” he said.

O’Bannon nodded and smiled. “Good. Now let’s get through this mess together. Maybe we can let everyone know it was a true bipartisan effort. Follow me to the war room,” he said leading Foster out the door and down the hall. It was going to be a long and very stressful operation.

“So he called me a monkey? The American bastard thinks I am beneath him, does he? It appears we need to send him a message on who has the upper hand here,” said Parente angrily.

“That is all we got from this conversation, Señor Presidente. We are still monitoring his calls,” said the communications technician in his personal guard.

Parente nodded stiffly. It was blatantly apparent that he was still angry, but containing his anger at present. “No. You have done your jobs well. Keep monitoring the line and let me know everything that is said. Thank you for your assistance,” he said dismissing the man. When he left the office, Parente picked up the phone and pressed the button dialing Jonas’ office.

“You can call off your search for the traitor,” said Parente. “I have decided it is time to end this situation,” he said immediately after Jonas picked up his phone.

“What is wrong, Mister President?” asked Jonas.

“It is none of your concern. It appears my own pilot is talking to one of your agents. I feel I can trust no one on your end as well as mine. So I will take things in my own hand,” Parente said abruptly.

Jonas was immediately frightened. Something had happened and Parente was going to kill everyone, maybe even him. He had to act quickly. “Mister President, I don’t know what has happened, but please allow me to work on this. Either someone has provided the wrong information or you are being deceived.”

“Deceived? You may be right. I need the name of every operative in Venezuela within 24 hours or I start killing your people. I am going to make sure no one will move against me again,” Parente shouted into the phone before hanging up.

Jonas was seeing his life passing before his eyes. Everything was coming unraveled. He immediately dialed Williamson’s number. “We have a big problem,” he told him.

Williamson let out a cry of anguish. “What do I have to do to get people to do their jobs? We are within an inch of this paying off and this son of a bitch is getting cold feet?”

“It’s more than that. He says his pilot has been passing information to one of our agents. If that’s the case, the word is out. We need to do something fast,” Jonas said.

“Damn it, I have been talking to Rutter up at the Agency. If anyone would know of information coming in to us, it would be him. You need to tell your friend that he needs to calm down.”

“You tell him that. The man’s insane with anger right now. He says if he doesn’t get the name of every agent in Venezuela within 24 hours, he will kill the hostages,” cried Jonas. “And what if your man doesn’t know? What if it’s all being kept to a limited few? They may be coming down on us right now,” Jonas almost pleaded.

Williamson thought a moment, and then sat back. “Well, then let him do it. After 24 hours and he has no word, he can just have his little flight of power. And Jonas….”

“Yes.”

“You better start packing your bags, because he’ll be coming after you too.” The line went dead.

Jonas stared at the now dead receiver. Only now did he realize the situation he was in. No one would be looking out for him. No one would say much. Parente would one day snuff his life out as if it were a candle. He started looking around the room, but there was no place to go and he was quite alone. He grabbed the phone he had hidden in his desk and ripped it out. Then he opened a hidden panel in the credenza and began pulling out papers and throwing them in a trash can. He didn’t hear the door open.

“Ambassador Jonas, I am here to place you under arrest for violation of Title 18, U. S. Code. You have the right to remain silent…” said Wilson as he went behind the desk, lifted Jonas up and placed hand cuffs on his wrists. As he finished Mirandizing the man, Jonas slumped down like a rag doll. He began to whimper. As Wilson and Lozier took him from the room, he even wet himself.

In Washington, Deshawn Jackson was the last one in the campaign office, making himself available if the Chief of Staff needed him. He was surprised when he saw Agent Kelly and several others enter the office. Kelly came up to his desk.

“Mister Jackson, is Mr. Williamson in his office?” asked Kelly.

“Yes sir, he’s been in there for the past several hours,” Jackson said.

Kelly winked at him. “Thanks, bud.” The men headed to the door and walked in. After a few minutes, Jackson heard Williamson shout, “I am a former United States Senator!” Scuffling was heard in the office and in another minute, the men came out with Williamson in handcuffs and being held on each arm by very large FBI agents.

Jackson didn’t really know what to do, but Kelly came over to him after exiting the office. “Is there any way to lock that door?” he asked.

Jackson nodded and produced a key for the deadbolt. Kelly took it and then locked the door. Then he gave the key to another agent who positioned himself outside the office.

Jackson looked at Kelly. “Am I supposed to come too?” he asked.

Kelly laughed. “No, Deshawn. You just need to hang around until we finish up. There will be a team here in a few minutes to go through the place. I need you here to verify we didn’t take campaign secrets. My middle name is not Watergate,” he said with a grin.

“What about Greg Foster?”

Kelly placed a hand on the young man’s shoulders. “He’s fine. The information you gave us helped out a lot. When we’re done you need to go get some rest. In the morning, you need to let the staff know that neither Williamson nor Foster will be coming in tomorrow. They got called to some big meeting. Cancel their engagements and reschedule them for later on. I figure in a day or so, your friend will be back. He’s going to need your help more than ever,” Kelly said with a warm smile.

The Osprey flared out and eased into position over a small open area in the trees. Several small red lights had been placed in a rectangle at the center of the grassy area, and someone holding two cone shaped lights was helping guide the aircraft into position. Once the wheels touched the ground, dark shadows of men sprang from the rear of the aircraft and dashed to the edge of the tree line not far away. Almost immediately, the whine of the engines increased and the aircraft rose from the ground and dashed away towards the border with Colombia.

“Help me get these lights out,” said a voice coming from the direction of where the man had been standing. The men quickly turned off each flashlight and brought them back to the person now holding only one small cone. One of the figures came forward.

“Captain Chapman?” asked the voice.

Chapman extended his hand. “Thanks for the help,” he said as he took the other man’s hand.

“Carlos. I’m glad you’re finally here. We’ve been pretty anxious for you and your team to get going,” said Verdes.

“So have we,” Chapman said.

“Everything’s set. The plane will be waiting, but if you see the need to get in earlier, we can probably speed things up a bit. The net will come up in one hour. So keep in touch,” said Verdes.

“I plan on being a mile away before I check in. How bad is the undergrowth?” Chapman asked.

“You lucked out. There was a big wildfire along this section just a year ago, so a lot of the underbrush was burned down. There is an old trail running from just behind me down along the ridge that will take you within a mile and a half of your destination,” Verde said as he brought out a map and showed Chapman under the red light. “You might not have known it because the satellite images don’t really show it. Just be careful. Sometimes army troops come up this way. They tend to be noisy, so you should have little trouble,” Verde said.

Chapman studied the map for a moment. It was similar to one they had made their plans with, but with the trail, things were much easier. “Where did you come up with this?” he asked.

Verde chuckled. “I have a friend who used to be a bigwig in the FARC. He showed me this trail a while back when we took an extended hike together. Unfortunately, you don’t have the time to look at the waterfalls or scenery,” he said.

“No, time isn’t on our side,” Chapman said. He extended his hand again, “We need to get going.”

“If you’re lucky, you’ll get to your objective about midafternoon. That should give you time to look the place over before going in. Remember, your transportation won’t really be able to wait long. According to my source, they should be there by 2000. They have to be gone by 2130. That’s not a big window if something goes wrong,” Verde said.

“Just another reason to get this show on the road. Thanks for the help,” said Chapman. Motioning to his men, they followed him back toward the trees and the trail he had been shown. As one of the men passed, he said “Buenas noches.”

“Vaya con Dios,” said Verdes, slapping the man on the arm as he passed. He watched in the darkness as the shadows passed and disappeared into the woods. Once they had left, he walked back to where his backpack was and retrieved a box holding the secure satellite radio. He took out a small compass and positioned it so that the antenna was pointing at the proper area of the sky, then turned the unit on. After a moment, a small green LED came on telling him he had a signal. He pressed the transmit key. After hearing the buzz of the encoder, he said, “Capricorn, this is Spotlight. The team is on the way.” There was a response which surprised the man. “When did that get in?” he asked. After receiving a reply, he answered, “This is Spotlight, understood, out.”

After shutting down the equipment and packing it away, Verdes looked around the area, then looked up into the night sky and swore out loud, angry at the situation. He quickly swept the backpack on his shoulders and rapidly began walking his way back down to his truck. If he hurried, he might just have enough time to warn Rojas.

Chapman was pleasantly surprised that the path was so clear. He had actually expected to have to hack his way along the mountains, but he and his men were making their way rapidly through the canopy of trees. It was even easier because his men were each wearing a set of the latest night vision goggles, allowing them to proceed as if it were daytime. Each of the men had extra battery packs, but with the latest batch of goggles, a battery would last over six hours. Even with the faint light that occasionally broke through the canopy; they had been able to even see the insects that buzzed constantly around them.

One hour in, as he had been instructed, he reached up to his ‘super phone’ and began the initiation sequence to open communications. Almost immediately a voice came into his earphone. “Team leader, this is Capricorn. We see you are making excellent progress. You do not have any possibles within five miles. No air traffic. No changes in mission parameters. Eyes on the camp show no real changes. We have eyes on your position and will relay any possibles coming into your area. Do you have questions or requests?”

Chapman pressed the button on his earphone, “None,” he said.

“Capricorn out.”

Chapman triggered his local communications switch. “Mom says we’re alone,” he said. The other men raised their hand in response and continued along the slim path ahead of them. Chapman was proud of his men. Despite the delays, the hard work to get prepared, and now the pitch dark and menacing insects, they were making good progress towards their objective. None complained and none showed any sign of slowing down. It was obvious to him that these men were exactly who were needed to accomplish their mission. He chuckled at himself. He would lead them to a successful conclusion or Ricks would kill him. He had never seen anyone like Ricks. Totally dedicated to his team, he had taught them things Chapman had never thought about. Then he had performed each of the tasks just to show he wasn’t telling them something that wouldn’t work. Not bad for a man with two artificial legs. But the thing that caught Chapman’s attention was that when on mission, Richs was downright frightening. He had a way of getting a job done that commanded 100 percent effort. If not, all Ricks had to do was look at you and you got the message ‘don’t screw this up again.’

At the same time, Ricks was one of the most patient and helpful men he had met when he was doing his training and almost any other non-lethal effort. Just last July 4th, he had been the first to scoop up the little children around him to help them get a better look at the local Independence Day parade. His own sons worshipped him and they were both very smart and polite when meeting others. The dichotomy between the Ricks on mission and the Ricks at home was nothing short of spectacular. Chapman wished he had a hundred more of him in the company.

Up ahead, he saw Ricks raise a hand, and then he heard, “Richards, point.” Chapman smiled. Anticipating his desires, Ricks was changing the point man every fifteen minutes. This got a fresh set of eyes up front and allowed the other man to relax a bit.

Chapman glanced at his watch. In another fifteen minutes he would call for a halt and give the men a chance to rest. He figured they had already made three miles. If they kept up this pace, they would be there mid-morning. No use in wearing the men out.

It felt as if the old Chevy was going to shake itself apart. Throwing caution to the winds, Verdes had floored the engine and was now flying down the dirt roads. Caracas was still over six hours away. Now the old truck bounced over the potholes and flew over the ridges on the road as he pressed it to its limits. The old Chevy didn’t disappoint. The V-6 roared like a lion under the hood. Verdes could tell his old companion would give its all to make sure he got to the city in time.

Going down the side of one mountain, Verdes could see the sky beginning to lighten. Within a mile or so, he would meet up with one of their ‘highways,’ not more than a two way street back home. But it was pavement and it would mean an even faster speed. Luckily, there were practically no patrols on a highway until you reached a city. There were only two between him and Caracas.

Suddenly Verdes slammed on the brakes. On the dirt road, it seemed like it was forever before he ground to a halt, right beside the cow that had somehow gotten loose and was standing in the middle of the road. He stared at the bovine through the windshield glass. It stared back, unwilling to move. Cursing under his breath, he got out of the idling truck to shoo it away. Once again the cow ignored him. Only when he slapped it on the rump did it finally ease off the road into some grass on the other side. That was when he found himself illuminated by the lights of a vehicle that was coming from the other direction. The vehicle came to a halt and someone came out of one side.

“What is going on? Why are you parked in the middle of the road?” asked the man walking up.

Verdes pointed to the cow, which gave off a long bellow. “He was standing in the middle of the road. It’s a good thing I saw him in the dark or I would have run over him. Stupid animal refused to move,” said Verdes.

There were calls from the vehicle, which turned out to be an army truck. “Bring it on, we’ll carve it up,” called one man from the back.

“I love steaks,” cried another.

The soldier with Verdes told them to keep quiet. “Imagine what would have happened if I had hit it with this truck,” he said to Verdes. He could see a smile on the soldier’s face. “It’s bad enough we have to do some patrols up the way, but to have a wreck with a truck full of men just because a cow refused to move would not make a good day. Thanks for moving it along,” he said.

The men shook hands and Verdes went back to his truck. As the army vehicle passed, Verdes saw it was filled with men equipped with rifles. I wonder where they’re going, he thought to himself. Getting back in the truck, he started the engine and then moved on at a slower pace. At the same time, he called in to Capricorn that the army was sending troops into the area.

Chapman stared at the waterfall as the men hiked by. The man Carlos had been right. This was the second waterfall they had passed and it was more breathtaking than he had ever seen. This part of Venezuela was beautiful. The vegetation was lush and the wildlife seemed to have colors all their own. He personally hoped to come back some day and explore this area again at his leisure.

He forced himself back to the reality of the mission. There was too much to do beside sightsee. You never knew what might come up. At one time in the night, Capricorn had warned them of something up ahead that seemed to be waiting for them. Spreading his men out, they had encircled the area. It turned out the object was not on the ground, but up in the trees. It didn’t have the shape of a human. Only after a growl did they realize it was a panther. The big cat had been watching their approach. Sgt. Miller was called up and took careful aim with his silenced rifle. His shot chipped the branch behind the big cat, startling it, and causing it to move down the tree and away from the group. It could have been a close call.

Chapman glanced at his ‘super phone.’ The GPS had them already within three miles of his objective and he was starting to think it would all be smooth sailing when a voice came into his earphone. “Team Leader, this is Capricorn. We have been appraised that there are troops heading into the area. We do not see them nearby, but we will be on the lookout. Do you copy?”

Chapman keyed the switch. “Roger, thank you, out.” He called out to his men, “Stop ahead and take ten.”

The men raised a hand and in just a minute, all of them had stopped in a small open area. Several of the men sat down and took a draw from their canteens. Chapman got their attention. “I guess you guys heard it. We may have company. Ricks, I want two men on point. Spread out along either side of this trail and keep your eyes open. I don’t know why anybody would be coming in our direction, but let’s not take chances. If we see anybody, we move away from the trail and conceal ourselves as best we can. The idea is to not be seen. We get seen, and the whole thing goes to shit. Time to paint up.”

The men reached back into their packs and pulled out the camouflaged paint. Taking their time, they covered their face and hands so that they blended with the surrounding vegetation. Several of the men moved back into the brush and pulled up some ferns and other vegetation to place along parts of their uniform and their helmets. Within a few minutes, someone would have a difficult time seeing them just ten feet off the trail.

In the satellite observation room at the CIA, the team was watching several trucks move up the road toward the objective. They noticed several pull off the road before coming to the compound and several moving further along. One truck actually moved up to the small air strip before disgorging its contents.

“What the hell are they doing?” one of the analysts asked.

“Beats me,” said another. “At least we were able to give the guys a warning.”

Soon they got their answer. They watched as the trucks seemed to spread out around the compound and the men began moving around the area both towards the compound and away from it. “Looks like they’re making a sweep of the area. Are we sure the leak was stopped?” asked the first man.

“As far as we know,” said a man sitting behind them all. It was evident, he was the supervisor.

“Well, it looks like they are looking for somebody,” said a third analyst. “Look at this,” he said, pointing to the trail that had been provided by Verdes. There was a small group of three men moving up the trail toward the team. They were just two miles away.

The supervisor grabbed the microphone, “Team Leader, Capricorn. We have three soldiers making their way along the trail ahead. They are two miles ahead of you moving in your direction. Evade, over.”

Chapman keyed the mike, “Acknowledged.” He lifted his hand and called for a stop. The men were in a clearing but all around them was thick undergrowth. “Ricks, move the men about fifty yards into the woods on either side. Be ready, but no one engage unless I specifically order it. Move’em out.”

Ricks sectioned the men and moved them deeper into the undergrowth of the forest. Within minutes, they were all well concealed. Each man unshouldered his weapon and waited. A little over thirty minutes later the three soldiers ambled up the pathway as if there wasn’t a care in the world. They were talking loudly and joking about their predicament. As they came into the clearing, the men stopped and sat back against some trees. Each broke out some food and began eating while they talked.

“Won’t they be mad that we didn’t go out all the way?” said the youngest man.

The oldest threw his hands up. “I’ve done this many times. First, we never find anyone along this way. Second, nobody checks to see if we go the entire five miles. Third, just because our leader wants to have these little rituals, does not mean we have to suffer for it. So just sit back and enjoy the morning. We show back up at the truck around two and no one will be the wiser,” he said as he broke off some more bread and popped it into his mouth.

“What do we do after we get back?” asked the young man.

The older man shrugged. “We’ll be stationed along the road to make sure no one gets up to the ceremonial ground where El Presidente will be having his little fun. Once it’s over, we all get back on the trucks and go back to base. It’s not hard, just a pain in the ass,” said the older man.

The younger man stood and shouldered his weapon. “I want to walk around some,” he said.

The third man chuckled. “Just don’t get eaten. There are the snakes, then the panthers, a few eagles and a few dozen other animals that might want you for a snack,” he laughed.

The younger man got a slightly frightened look on his face, but still moved away down the trail. After 100 yards or so, he turned back and started heading into the brush.

“Where are you going?” one called out.

“Just looking around,” the young man said as he moved cautiously through the brush.

Ricks watched the young man as he walked along, fanning the ferns and grasses in front of him. Slowly he was making his way to his position. Ricks slowly reached along his leg and retrieved a long knife. He detested using the thing ever since he had been forced to use the one early in the war with Korea. But like that time, he didn’t seem to have any choice.

The man was within ten feet of Ricks when a voice called out from the open area. “Get your ass back over here. I’m not going to have to rescue you from some animal. This place is too dangerous,” one of the men called out.

Ricks watched as the young man seemed to deflate. He was obviously tired of always being told what to do. With a mournful look, he turned back toward the clearing and away from Ricks.

Ricks didn’t move. The young man didn’t know how close he had come to being dead, and Ricks was relieved that he hadn’t been forced to give the team away. He watched as the young soldier returned to the clearing and sat back down next to a tree.

Chapman watched all that had happened. He also heard the comments. Thankful the team hadn’t been discovered. He eased back and keyed the communications device. “Capricorn, this is Team Leader. Squad in sight. They are saying President will be at compound tonight. There are increased patrols until event over. Waiting for area to clear,” he whispered into the microphone.

The response was immediate. “We suspected something was happening, just not sure what. Will inform if more on the way.” Chapman placed his chin on his arm and waited. True to their word, after an hour, the men gathered their things and started back down the trail from where they came.

Wei awoke at his usual time. Once again, he was alone. Rising from his feathered mattress, he placed his loin cloth around his waist and walked to the table which had the prepared fruits and sweets he enjoyed each day. Taking a long drink of his chichi, he could feel its effect almost immediately. Stretching his muscles, he headed out the door and down to the pond. As usual, there was a naked girl there, except this time he was amazed to find someone who looked like himself. She had light pale skin and very long wavy blond hair much like his own. As she came up out of the water, her hair glistened in the bright morning sun. She saw him and began moving slowly toward him in the water.

Akia had been surprised when her teacher had told her it was her day to meet their god. The others had told the girls how handsome he was and when she saw him, it almost took her breath away. Her teacher had told her she was to be special. If she pleased him, she might become a goddess. The other women had taught them many things of how to please Wei, and she was eager to make him happy. Only 17, her body had grown to become very feminine and shapely. She made sure her hair remained clean, soft and controlled. An older man had come by just a few days before and told her teachers to get her ready. Now, after several years at her special school, she felt it the perfect time for her to be presented. She remembered the words she must say, although the young god before her had almost immediately taken her breath away.

Wei could not believe the girl coming toward him. Her beauty was far beyond any of the others. Could this be another sign he was becoming more and more of a god? As she came up out of the water, he was captivated by her shapeliness. Better yet, her smile struck something deep and almost animal-like within him. Even her moves while walking toward him fed the flames.

Unlike the other girls, she walked directly up to him, opened her arms and brought him in and placed her cheek against both of his. Rubbing against him, she took his hands in her own and looked up into his eyes. They were a pale blue, like hers. “I am from Tuenkaron, have you cleared the cunoco yet?” she whispered.

The sound of her soft voice sent tremors through his body. His excitement was evident. He stared into her eyes and smiled. “You are different from the others. Why are you here?” he asked.

She blushed slightly. “I am here to serve you, and if you will have me, to be yours forever,” she said with a smile. It was not what she was told he would say, but that was no matter. He seemed to be pleased and that was everything.

She felt him pull her to him. His lips moved closer and soon were upon hers. The kiss was more thrilling than anything either had ever experienced. When he pulled away he smiled and reached down to pick her up. Wei carried her deep into the water to the waterfall at the other end. Placing her upon the rock under the shower of water from above, he kissed her again. Her body felt so warm and alive in his arms. Everywhere she touched him felt new and alive. After a few minutes, she reached down and undid his loin cloth, allowing it to fall into the water. They both watched as it left his body and she could see all of him. The look of excitement filled her face. She stood and reached down to help lift him up one the ledge. He took her hand and jumped up to join her. After another kiss, she stood back and looked at him. “I am supposed to bathe you,” she said as she began to reach for the special soap she was to use.

He stopped her and pulled her back up to him. “Not now,” he said as he pulled her in for another passionate kiss. As they kissed, she began to run her hands all along his body, caressing his arms, legs and torso. He began kissing her neck and shoulders. For the first time, this wasn’t a ceremony. He didn’t want just the sex, he wanted to please her. Something was happening inside him. It made him feel stronger and much happier. As she began toughing him in other areas, he returned the effort, causing her to swoon several times in his arms. Many minutes later she whispered in his ear, “Please take all of me. I want you so.”

They made love under the waterfall and then left for his bedroom. They didn’t work the garden, instead spending the day wrapped in each other’s arms. Wei had found his mate.

Parente was anxious to get things going. It seemed as if everyone had some message they had to deliver as the day wore on. Finally, his personal guard commander came into his office.

“I have made arrangements,” he said. “Once we get you to the compound, he will be called back to the capitol and will be arrested. I will send another pilot back to bring you home,” the commander said. “His family will have already been detained. He will join them in prison.”

Parente glanced at his watch. We are running a little late. Let’s talk on the way,” he said as he pressed the switch to open the hidden door. They had already reached the car when Parente realized he had left the briefcase he always carried with him. He had left it sitting open on his desk.

Cursing himself, he picked up his cell and dialed a number. “My Colonel, I seem to have left my briefcase on my desk. Can you please retrieve it and place the papers on my desk inside. Then come down the passageway and meet me at the car,” he instructed.

Rojas quickly entered the office and walked to the desk. The briefcase was sitting open. As he gathered the papers, he noticed the files inside the briefcase. Although some were state papers, several of the files were marked with the names of banks. His curiosity overtook him and he opened one of the files. It contained account numbers, ledgers, passwords, and other banking documents. Glancing at the numbers, it was obvious that El Presidente was putting away millions.

Rojas placed the file back into the case and closed it. He quickly pressed the switch and entered the hallway. Running down the stairs and to the guard at the other end, he quickly exited the door and handed the case to Parente, who was smiling at him.

“Thank you, My Colonel. Enjoy your evening. I will see you in the morning,” Parente said.

Rojas watched the limo leave the basement and turned back to the passageway. Once again, the guard waved him through and he made his way back to El Presidente’s office. He had just returned to his desk when the phone rang.

“I was able to procure those bowls you were wanting,” said Carlos Verdes from outside the building.

Rojas was startled to be hearing from the man, but didn’t give it away. “Excellent! I wanted to get those for one of my relatives for Christmas. Where are you?” he asked.

“In the park across from your office. I will be here when you are ready,” Verdes said.

“I will come at once,” Rojas said.

Something must be up, or the man wouldn’t be getting in touch. He grabbed his hat and made his way out of the building and across the street. He saw Verdes and his truck along the side street. He was selling to some passersby. When Rojas came up, he welcomed him with excitement. “I am so glad I could get up with you. These things just came in,” Verdes said as he ushered Rojas to the street side of the truck. He picked up two of the bowls and handed them over. As Rojas looked them over Verdes leaned in.

“Your friend Messina and his family are about to be arrested. We just found out. Is there any way you can get them out of danger?” he asked in a low tone.

“He’s just taken off with Parente for some event. I can get the family, but where could I take them?” Rojas asked. The fear in his voice was evident.

Picking up another piece of pottery, he held it up for Rojas to see. “Is there a way to get to him?”

“I have a secure line, but what about the family?”

Thinking quickly, Verdes smiled and reached over to shake Rojas’ hand as if they had made a deal. “The rescue team will be making their move tonight. Call him and have him come back here. Then go get his family. Have him pick all of you up and take you to the airstrip he is taking Parente to. Our plane will be there tonight and take you all away.”

“All of us?”

“There’s no way you can remain now. He has told his people to kill the hostages. You are next,” said Verdes forcefully. “You must all leave,” he said.

Rojas nodded and took the man’s hands again. “Thank you, my friend. I’ll do my best.”

“If this goes well, maybe I will see you again. Vaya con Dios, my friend,” Verdes said with a smile. “Now pay me for these things and get going.”

Rojas pulled out his wallet and pulled out some bills. Then he took the pottery and made his way back to his office where he closed everything up and then walked into a small closet where the communications gear was. He switched on the encryption gear and patched it into the radio.

Messina was surprised to hear a call come in on the Presidential frequency, since Parente was onboard the helicopter. He pressed the decryption switch and pressed the key. “Helo One responding.”

“Can he hear us?” asked Rojas.

Messina was shocked that Rojas was on the radio. It meant something bad was happening. “Pilot only. What’s wrong Juan?”

“Parente has ordered your family and you arrested. Drop him off and then come back. Meet me at the lacrosse fields. I am going to get your family,” Rojas said.

“He’s already told me to come back anyway,” said Messina.

“And you’ll be arrested when you land. It’s time to leave, Carl. He’s going to kill the hostages. I’m going to get your family now,” Rojas said.

“I’ll see you at the lacrosse fields,” said Messina. “Take care of yourself.”

After shutting down the equipment, Rojas grabbed the pottery and made his way to his car. He thanked his lucky stars that he had purchased one of the American SUVs. He thought about calling Messina’s wife, but thought he had tempted fate already using the radio. He hurriedly drove to Messina’s home and down the alley behind his residence. The back gate was open and their car was sitting in the covered drive. He parked his car and made his way to the back door. He started pounding forcefully.

After a minute, a startled Christina Messina came to the door. “Juan, what is going on? You look desperate,” she said with alarm.

“Christina, grab the children. We have to leave now,” he said quickly.

“But why? The children just got home from school and I’m starting supper for them.” She obviously didn’t know of what had been going on.

Rojas took her arms. “Christina, Presidente Parente thinks your husband has turned against him. He has ordered you all arrested. The secret police are probably on their way here right now. Get the children and let’s go!”

“Surely Parente wouldn’t…”

Rojas became insistent. “He plans to have you all killed. I know this for fact. Get them now!” he insisted.

Christina saw the fear in his eyes and heard the danger in his voice. She nodded and called the children down to her. Ushering them out the door, he noticed the oldest boy grab his lacrosse stick and ball to take with him. They packed the children in his car and he backed out into the alley. Telling everyone to get down, he pulled out on the side street and then out onto the main boulevard. They were a half mile down the road when they were passed in the other direction by several cars and trucks with flashing lights.

The helicopter landed and as the engines shut down, Parente got out. Messina watched him get into his limousine, then motioned for the airstrip crew to pull out the fueling hoses. Not knowing what was going on, they filled the tanks of the helicopter to the brim and watched as Messina restarted the helicopter and took off, waving to the crew as he usually did. Once in the air, Messina flew the aircraft as fast as it would go back toward Caracas.

It had been a near miss. The squads of soldiers formed a near circle around the compound guarding known trails and roads leading anywhere near the place. Guided by the satellite imagery, Chapman skirted around the positions, but at one, as he began crossing a small dirt road across their way, a truck began making its way toward them from only 100 yards away. One of the men suddenly found himself illuminated by the light of the truck. Fortunately, it was too far away to see the camouflaged figure dart into the gulley on the far side. As the truck passed, it slowed slightly, but then continued on its way. Once the darkness returned, the men climbed over a small hill and found themselves overlooking the compound.

The entire compound was bathed in light. There were two guard towers with an armed man in each one. Soldiers were lined up in the courtyard as if they were expecting someone important. The walls, over 12 feet high, were topped with broken bottle glass and razor wire. There was a ten foot cleared area around the outer wall.

Chapman spread his men out along the ridge to watch and wait for a bit. Earlier in the afternoon, the men had been able to get a good look at the place from about half a mile away on another ridge. Everything had looked normal then, but now something had changed. The clouds had rolled in and on occasion, there was the rumble of thunder echoing across the mountains. In the compound they appeared to be waiting for something. Chapman found out why when a black limousine with an escort pulled up the far road and up to the wooden gates at the far end of the compound. The gates were opened and the car pulled in.

Both rows of troops came to attention as Parente got out of the car. He returned their salutes and made his way to the Sergeant. He was surprised at what he saw. Both of the man’s eyes were swollen and one was red with blood. With a look of concern he addressed him. “Sergeant, what has happened?”

“Nothing of importance, Señor Presidente. One of the people attacked me. It appears they cannot stand a little discipline in their lives,” he said.

“Well, you won’t have to put up with them much longer. Have you sent one up to the ceremonial grounds?” Parente asked.

“Si, Señor Presidente. I took the liberty of sending up the one who attacked me. She will regret her actions,” he said boastfully.

“A woman? That is good. Which one?”

“The woman named Hammond,” said the Sergeant as another clap of thunder sounded far away.

Parente smiled. “A very good choice. I will see that she makes the perfect sacrifice to our god,” Parente said with glee. “I leave you with one final order for the day. Once the drums start, you are free to execute the remaining hostages. Take them in the truck to a place far from here tomorrow and get rid of the bodies. Make it look like the FARC has taken out their revenge,” he said.

“Very good, Señor Presidente. I also had to imprison one of our troops. He objects to what is being done here and knows more than he needs. Should I include him in the effort?”

Parente nodded his head. It gave him an opportunity. He quickly entered the car and pulled out a sheet of paper that had some orders on it. The orders appeared to be signed by Colonel Rojas. He handed the sergeant the papers. “Dress the soldier in one of the FARC uniforms and have this placed in one of his pockets. When he is found, it will suit me well,” Parente said.

The sergeant saluted. “It will be done!” he said.

The salute was returned. “You have served well. You all have. Once this is done, I will see you all in the capitol,” Parente said as he turned and got back into the car. The limo backed out of the compound and drove back to the road, turning up the mountain instead of back down.

The sergeant rubbed his hands together. “Finally it is over and we can go home. Get the men together to form a firing squad. I will call them when the time is ready,” he said to a corporal. With some glee he turned and reentered his quarters where the air conditioning awaited.

Wei awoke from an exhausted sleep. The distant thunder had roused him and he looked over to see that the young girl was still lying beside him. Their lovemaking had consumed almost an entire day with only brief stops to refresh themselves. She had given her all, and had performed feats he could have only imagined. But unlike the others, he had responded by giving just as much as he had received. He looked as her lying next to him and couldn’t believe the feelings pouring through him. His Chief Priest had been right. By waiting for the right moment, he would experience many of the new emotions and feelings of a god. Right now, he felt as if he was more powerful than ever.

She stirred beside him and her eyes slowly opened. He smiled as she looked at him, reaching over the rub his smooth, chiseled face. He responded by kissing her lightly. She ran her hand down his shoulders and along his body, finally holding him in her hands. “You have filled me. How can I please you more?” she asked.

They were interrupted by more thunder and the sounds of voices outside. He picked up the blanket and placed it over her. “I must attend my people. When it is done, I will return to you,” Wei said gently.

“I will be waiting,” she said.

He got up and clapped his hands together twice. Several servants came in and began dressing him in his ceremonial dress. The young girl watched in awe as they sprinkled him in glittering dust which made him shimmer and shine in the light. On his head they placed the ceremonial headdress. When they had finished, he turned to face the girl. “I am Wei, god of the sun. You shall be my bride,” he said with a smile. As he left, he said to one of the servants, “Do not take her away. I want her with me forever.”

The girl moved over the bed and got down on her knees as he finally turned and left the room. It no longer mattered what they taught in her school. She was the chosen bride.

Parente watched as Wei made his way to the holding area. There was something new with the boy. When the servants told him of his desires, he smiled. This will make him much more compliant, he thought.

It seemed the secret police were everywhere. Rojas first went toward his house, but he saw several police units ahead of him going the same direction. He thought about going toward the Embassy, but thought better of it since the ambassador seemed to be involved. Instead, he made his way to the slums of the city where no one expected they would go. After an hour, roaming the narrow streets, he changed course and began making his way back toward the lacrosse fields. The lights were on and there was a fútbol game on the far field. Rojas, tired of driving and evading, pulled the car into a place between two buildings which afforded a clear view of the fields. He parked the car and turned off the lights.

The children were frightened by all the frantic driving, even though Rojas and Christina tried to reassure them. Once they had parked, Christina urged the children to lay back and try to nap. After a few minutes she turned to Rojas. “Juan, what’s the real story about this? Why are we running?” she asked.

Rojas let out a small sigh. She deserved the truth. “Have you been following the news about the American hostages?” he asked. She nodded. “We found out that Parente did this. Neither of us could live with something like that. Carl got in touch with one of the Americans and got me in touch with their embassy staff. We have been trying to end this,” he said sincerely. “It appears someone found out about our efforts and Parente is after us and the hostages. I’m afraid we are all going to pay the price because Parente craves his power.”

“But isn’t he powerful enough as President,” she asked.

Rojas chuckled. “You might think so, but this time, he is wanting even more. He is taking on the United States to prove it.”

Christina sat back and stared vacantly out the window. The whole time she had known Carl, he had always tried to be the best. He wanted to be the best pilot, best parent, best church leader, and now best citizen. Once again, when something was wrong, he stepped in to make it right. This time, he had put his whole family at risk. She was eternally proud of him. Even if it did take uprooting and going seemingly to the end of the earth, she would be there with him.

“Where will we be going?” asked Emilio from the back seat.

Rojas turned and looked at the boy. He looked like a much younger version as his father and he had the same determined look Rojas had seen on his friend on many occasions. “Actually, I’m not sure. You may be going to the United States.”

Emilio got a surprised look on his face. The prospect of going there got his attention. “Do they play lacrosse there?”

“It’s actually where lacrosse was born. There are teams everywhere,” Rojas said smiling.

The boy sat back in the seat and tightened his grip on the stick. “I’m ready,” he said with a half grin.

The sound of a helicopter broke them out of their conversation. Rojas watched as the presidential helicopter came in slowly under the lights on the field. He quickly started the car and made a dash down the narrow space and across the street. Using the car as a battering ram, he crashed through the fence and drove onto the field.

Messina saw the wild dash and set the helo down in the middle of the field. As the fútbol team and its spectators watched, Rojas drove the car right up to the helicopter. The doors were flung open and Rojas and Christina spirited the children into the waiting aircraft. In no time, it was back in the air and moving rapidly into the darkness. Almost immediately afterward, a set of cars bound onto the field with their lights flashing.

Messina looked back at the field and increased the power to the engines to take the aircraft faster into the darkness. He also reached up and switched off the running lights. The next thing he did was switch off the IFF. Since the airport radar operators used the IFF instead of the raw return, it gave him a better fighting chance to get away.

Banking the aircraft back through the city, he kept it low to the buildings while running full speed back toward the mountains and the airstrip. Sitting in the front seat, he looked back and waved to his family, then reached over and took Rojas’ hand. “Thanks you. I owe you everything,” he said.

Messina switched off the interior lights and then punched up the intercom. “Okay, everyone just sit back and enjoy the flight. We’re going to be flying without lights, so just enjoy looking out the windows,” he said. He was rewarded by the family waving to him.

Messina turned to Rojas. “We’re not out of the woods yet. This will be an hour and a half flight and we may be sucking fumes by the time we get there. Help me watch for other aircraft, especially fighters.”

Fortunately, the secret police hadn’t thought about scrambling fighters because the nearest base was over fifty miles away. With thunderstorms rolling through the area, few were venturing into the air. The helicopter ran unopposed out of the city and into the mountains toward the distant flashes of lightning.