Trial by Fire

25

Their approach march up the hill from the LZ, through the saddle between the two peaks, down the hill, and finally to the easternmost mercenary base camp had been more difficult than Cerro had expected. The time he had allotted for that movement, five hours, had seemed more than sufficient when he had looked at the map back at the division main command post. Now, as Cerro looked at his watch, he realized he wouldn't be able to meet his original schedule. He would be hard pressed to conduct his recon to find out where the hostages were, get back to where Kozak was holding her platoon, and lead the platoon into the base camp before dawn.

Not that it mattered, he thought. He had no pressing engagements back at the division CP. Besides, an attack just after dawn was, given the circumstances, not a bad idea. The idea of attack helicopters zipping all over the place, trying to provide fire support, at night, bothered Cerro.

Though he knew the pilots and gunners were good, and the Apaches had dynamite thermal sights, Cerro also knew that people, in the weird green and black image created by a thermal sight, all look the same. In the daylight the Apache gunners would be able to use their daylight sights and look before they shot. At least, he hoped they would. There was, Cerro knew, no way of predicting what the rotorheads would do.

Ready to leave the cover of the gully they had been crawling in for the past thirty minutes, Cerro looked back at Colonel Guajardo and nodded.

It was time for Guajardo and his "guide" to take the lead.

Pulling the tape from Lefleur's mouth, Guajardo looked at him and whispered his warning again, just in case Lefleur had forgotten. "Cooperate, and you will see the sun. Cross me, and you are a dead man. Do we understand each other?"

Lefleur, wiping his mouth, nodded.

Removing his pistol from its holster, Guajardo pointed toward the base camp. "After you, my friend."

With Lefleur in the lead, followed by Guajardo, then Cerro, and finally, Fast Eddie, the four men rose up out of the gully and began to move toward the rear of the building that Lefleur had identified as a cantina. Located on the eastern side of what everyone called Bandito Base East, the cantina was used as a mess hall for the mercenaries. On the south side of the camp, a large storage shed and machine shop served as billets for most of the mercenaries. An administrative building, on the western side of camp, was used by their leader, Delapos, as a headquarters as well as for additional billeting space.

While Guajardo was interested in the administrative building, where Delapos would be asleep, Cerro's attention was riveted on the tool shed and garage on the northern side of the base camp. It was in these buildings, according to Lefleur, that the American hostages had been put.

Cerro's task, during the recon, was to confirm that. If he could, it would make life so much easier when Kozak and her platoon came tearing into the camp. Perhaps, Cerro thought, with a little luck, some of Kozak's people could even secure the hostages before the shooting began. In that case, it would be a simple matter of putting Kozak's platoon in a line abreast and marching them into the bandito base, shooting everyone in front of them as they went.

Upon reaching the rear of the cantina, the four men flattened themselves against the wall and crouched to catch their breath and listen for the movement of any guards. After waiting a minute, Guajardo turned to Cerro. "Well, my young companion, this is where we must part."

Even in the dark shadow of the cantina, Guajardo could see the shocked expression on Cerro's face. It was only with the greatest effort that Cerro kept his voice down. '"What do you mean?"

"I am, my young friend, after their leader. I cannot take the chance that we will be able to find him and keep him alive once your lovely lieutenant and her men begin shooting. So, I am taking our guide and leaving to find and secure Senior Delapos, for safekeeping. You understand, of course."

Cerro couldn't believe it. The colonel, he realized, had been planning this the entire time. The bastard. The fucking bastard. Well, Cerro thought, two can play hardball. "No, I do not. That was not the plan.

You, Colonel, must understand that if you go jerking around in the dark, on your own, I cannot be responsible for your safety. When the shooting starts, I cannot guarantee that you, your guide, and your hostage won't be hit by friendly fire."

Guajardo nodded. "I understand. But I am sure you will do your best. Vaya con Dios."

Without another word, Guajardo grabbed Lefleur by the collar and pushed him ahead of him out into the open and toward the rear of the storage building. Fast Eddie, who hadn't heard the conversation between Cerro and Guajardo, leaned forward and whispered in Cerro's ear,

"Where they goin', sir?"

Disgusted, tired, and momentarily flustered, Cerro mumbled a curse Fast Eddie didn't hear, then over his shoulder, he whispered, "They're off playing,cowboys."

When Cerro turned his attention back to his front, Fast Eddie thought about Cerro's response. He had no idea what the captain meant. He didn't remember anyone mentioning anything about the Mexican doing his own recon. Not that it mattered. Fast Eddie reminded himself that he was, after all, only a grunt. Nobody ever told him anything. All he was expected to do was carry the radio and follow the captain.

They were late. As Kozak looked at her watch, she realized that they still had two kilometers to go. If everything had gone well with Captain Cerro's recon, and she had no reason to suspect that it hadn't, he would be waiting for her and her platoon, at that moment, at the designated jumpoff point just east of the enemy base camp. Unless they did something soon, there was no way that they could make it to the jumpoff point, get Cerro's briefing on the layout of the camp, and attack before dawn.

A decision had to be made. Another one of those one-time-only, guesswrong-and-die decisions.

Throwing her right hand up over her shoulder, palm out, she signaled her platoon to halt. Like a ripple, starting with the man behind her, every man repeated the motion, then squatted, watching to either the left or right as he waited for further instructions. Only Staff Sergeant Maupin, the platoon sergeant, kept going. Turning to the man following him and telling him to stay, Maupin worked his way up the file of men to where Kozak, at the head of the column, stood looking to the north and west.

When he reached her, he looked around in the same directions, then leaned over and whispered, "What's up, LT?"

Looking toward the base camp, its buildings barely visible in the distance, she sighed. "We're late."

Maupin looked at his watch. "Took longer than the captain thought.

He's probably late too."

Kozak shook her head. "Can't count on that. If we don't get moving fast, we'll never be in place and ready to attack before dawn."

Maupin was about to ask what she intended to do, but he realized that she was already considering her options. So he stood next to her and waited.

He thought about offering her his advice, but decided not to. Ever since their deployment from Fort Hood south to the Mexican border, she had called everything right. Even Rivera had been surprised how well she had done, commenting to Maupin after the incident in Nuevo Laredo that second lieutenants just didn't come any better. So Maupin simply watched her and waited.

Seeing no signs of anything that looked like an outpost between them and the base camp, and remembering the French mercenary's comment that most of their attention was oriented to the north and west, Kozak decided to take a chance, a big one. She turned to Maupin. "Okay, Sergeant Maupin. We're getting out of this ditch and double-time down to the jump-off point. Wedge formation once we're in the open. First Squad in the center, 2nd Squad on the left, 3rd to the right. Place one machine gun each with both 2nd and 3rd squads. I'll lead, you take up drag. Pass the word."

Without hesitation, Maupin turned and prepared to move back down the column to relay Kozak's order to the squad leaders, when Kozak reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "And Sergeant Maupin, pass the word. Fix bayonets."

When they finally reached the rear of the administrative building, both Guajardo and Lefleur paused to catch their breath. After he had done so, Lefleur, twisting his head around, whispered over his shoulder to Gua jardo, "This is the rear door. Inside, a corridor runs through the building to the front. Two rooms on each side of the corridor. Delapos uses the second one to the right as an office. He also sleeps in there." Lefleur turned his head back and waited. He had, he knew, fulfilled his end of their bargain. He had led Guajardo to where Delapos was. Now, he waited for the Mexican to let him go, as he had said he would.

What he would do, once.freed and a safe distance from the Mexican, was a good question, one that Lefleur had been pondering all night. The Mexican, with an HK-53 submachine gun, which he carried slung across his back, as well as the 9mm pistol he had held at Lefleur's back as they moved to the admin building, was too well armed to take on. At least, right away. No, Lefleur thought, it would be pointless to risk his life right there, in such an uneven fight. He would wait. And, he thought, if a chance to take out the Mexican didn't come, it was no loss. He had, after all, been paid in advance.

The gleam of a blade flashing in front of his face caught Lefleur's attention just as Guajardo's left hand came around and clamped down on his mouth. In a single, smooth motion, Guajardo jerked Lefleur's head back and onto his left shoulder as he brought the bayonet in his right hand across in front of Lefleur's face. Pressing the bayonet against the skin just under Lefleur's left ear, Guajardo jerked to the right, using all of his strength to rip Lefleur's throat open, just above the wind pipe, from ear to ear. The only sound Lefleur made was a gurgling sound as blood from his severed artery mixed with the air escaping his lungs through the slit in his neck. For an instant, Lefleur's body jerked, then stiffened in shock and surprise. When he finally went limp, Guajardo removed his hand from Lefleur's mouth, allowing the body to fall in a heap at his" feet.

After looking around to see if his action had attracted any unwanted attention, Guajardo bent over Lefleur's body. Pulling Lefleur's shirttail out of his pants, Guajardo first used it to wipe the blood from his bayonet before returning the.bayonet to its scabbard. Then he wiped Lefleur's blood off his hands as best he could. He looked around again as he unslung his submachine gun and pulled the bolt of his weapon back.

Ready, he stepped over Lefleur's body and entered the administrative building.

Once inside, Guajardo paused, flattening himself against the wall to his left while he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the building's interior. Within seconds, he could make out the four doors Lefleur had spoken of. At the end of the corridor, under the door of the room that Lefleur had indicated Delapos used for his office, there was light coming out. Guajardo could see something blocking the light under the door every now and then. Someone was up and moving around in the room.

Keeping his back against the wall and his submachine gun trained on Delapos's door, Guajardo began to move down the corridor. As he passed a door behind him, he glanced back for a split second, then returned his attention to the door where the light was coming from. When he was finally standing across from it, he steadied his submachine gun in his right hand while he slowly reached across the corridor for the doorknob with his left. Once he had a firm grip on it, he slowly began to turn the doorknob, listening for any sound and watching the light under the door.

When it would turn no more, he froze and listened a little longer. Taking several deep breaths, he prepared to go in.

Delapos was bent over, reaching down to pull up his trousers, when the door to his room flew open. Looking up, he was startled to see a tall soldier, dressed in tiger-striped camouflage fatigues and training a submachine gun on him, standing in the doorway. Like a statue, Delapos froze, watching the man with the submachine gun as he took a quick step into the room, then a step to the right, closing the door with his left hand and holding the submachine gun in his right. Easing himself back so that he was leaning against the wall, the man with the submachine gun brought his left hand up to the front hand guard of the weapon before he motioned for Delapos to stand up by wiggling the barrel of the gun up and down.

Standing upright, and recovered from his initial shock, Delapos studied the man's face for several seconds before he realized that he was looking at Colonel Alfredo Guajardo, minister of defense, member of the Council of 13, "the Dark One." The revelation only served to heighten Delapos's sense of shock and panic. If he, the Dark One, was standing there, in his own office, Delapos thought, then it was all over. Everything was lost.

Everything, including his life, was finished.

After circling the outside of the buildings, and seeing what he thought to be the hostages where the French mercenary had said they should be, Cerro and Fast Eddie prepared to head back to the jumpoff point. For a moment, Cerro glanced back at the tool shed as he reconsidered his decision to leave without freeing the hostages. It wouldn't, he thought, take that long. Five minutes tops. With the hostages out of the way, the rest of the operation would be a piece of cake, a real breeze. But going in like that, with only Fast Eddie as backup, was a big risk, a risk that he wasn't ready to take. At this stage of the game, there was no need to take any more chances. He'd do just like he'd briefed, go back, brief Kozak's platoon, lead them forward, position them, and then, when everything was ready, start the attack. Doing all that would take time. But in the end, Cerro knew, it was the smart thing to do.

Just as Cerro and Fast Eddie stood up and prepared to leave the shelter of the cantina, the door of the storage building facing into the center of the compound opened. Dropping down, Cerro and Fast Eddie froze in place as they watched three mercenaries leave the building and head for a pickup truck parked in front of the storage building. All three carried weapons, but they had them in one hand while hauling bundles of gear in the other. Cerro heaved a sigh of relief, realizing that he and Eddie had not been spotted.

His relief didn't last long. After dropping their gear into the open bed of the pickup truck, one man, the shortest of the three, opened the door on the driver's side while the other two shuffled across to the garage where Cerro believed some of the hostages were. When they entered the garage, the mercenary wearing a green camouflage shirt turned on the garage's outside and inside lights, just as the short one in the pickup truck flipped on the headlights. The whole open area in the center of the compound was now illuminated by the light coming from the garage and the pickup. The odds of anyone being asleep in the mining compound were now less than remote and getting worse by the minute.

Pulling back into the dark shadows of the cantina, Cerro watched as the mercenary in the green camouflage shirt came out of the garage. With his rifle slung over his shoulder, he was pushing one of the male hostages in front of him as he dragged another behind him. Both hostages, their hands bound in front of them, came out reluctantly. The mercenaries were, Cerro thought, about to move the hostages.

Turning to Fast Eddie, Cerro took a grenade off a loop of his web belt.

"Can you manage to get a grenade into the back of the pickup in one try?"

Eddie leaned over and looked past Cerro at the pickup. "Sure thing.

Why?"

The mercenary in the camouflage shirt, instead of taking his charges over to the pickup, put them up against the front wall of the garage.

Walking away from them, he was joined in the center of the open area by the short mercenary, who had turned on the lights of the pickup. As they stood there together, the mercenary in the camouflage shirt took his rifle off his shoulder and pulled the bolt back, looking at the two hostages.

Cerro looked at Fast Eddie, the mercenaries in the open area, then at Fast Eddie again, tossing him the grenade. " 'Cause I said so. When I say go, chuck the grenade in the truck. After it goes off, you head for the garage.

Get the hostages back inside and stay in there. I'm going after the woman in the tool shed. Got that?"

While he was in the process of slipping the radio off his back and studying the pickup, Fast Eddie nodded. "Sure. But wouldn't it be a good idea to wait for everyone else?"

The short mercenary was also preparing his weapon, looking at the two hostages standing against the garage wall, when Cerro looked back. They weren't moving the hostages, they were going to shoot them."No time.

Besides, once she hears the shooting, I'm sure Lieutenant Kozak will come." At least, Cerro thought, that's what he hoped. That she might still be climbing down the mountain and be too far off to get there in time didn't really matter. What mattered was that he and Fast Eddie had to stop the mercenaries from shooting the hostages.

The sudden blaze of lights from the center of the compound startled Kozak. Without a thought, holding her rifle by the hand guard in her left hand, Kozak threw out her right hand with the palm open toward the platoon. Without a word, everyone, including Kozak, dropped down on one knee as they waited to see what was going on. Though they were less than fifty meters from the jumpoff point, Kozak knew that things were in the process of changing. The lights meant that some of the mercenaries were up and moving about. That, in turn, meant that the platoon's ability to meet Cerro, get briefed on what he had seen, and use that information to conduct a slow, quiet approach, was out.

Looking back over her shoulder, Kozak studied her platoon for a moment. The men, kneeling or squatting where they had been when she had signaled them to halt, grasped their weapons as they waited. Though it was dark, and their eyes were hidden by the deep shadows of their helmets' brims, Kozak could feel every man's eyes riveted to her, waiting for her to make a decision that would throw them into battle again. There would be no need for dramatics, no long or stirring speech. Once she had made her decision, a few words, one quick command, was all that would be needed. She knew that they were ready to follow, but more important, Kozak knew she was ready to lead.

Taking a deep breath, she took one more look at her people before turning back to watch and listen. At least, she thought, they were in an assault formation that would lend itself to just about anything.

Lifting his rifle, Cerro flipped the safety off with his thumb and took aim at the mercenary in the green shirt. He ignored the appearance of the third mercenary in the door of the garage, pushing the last of the male hostages in front of him. "Okay, Eddie, throw it." To his rear, Cerro could hear the grenade's spoon and safety level flip up and the striker hit the primer.

He even heard Fast Eddie count to three before the crunching of dirt and a grunt from Eddie told him the grenade was on the way. Without waiting for the detonation, Cerro squeezed off two quick rounds.

The report of Cerro's rifle, and the collapse of the mercenary in the green camouflage shirt next to him, surprised the short mercenary. He looked down at his friend as he fell at his feet just as the grenade went off.

Jumping and turning at the same time, he was in the process of looking for his friend's assailant when Cerro fired on him. Hit once in the chest and once in the left shoulder, the second mercenary went down, falling backward and over the body of his partner.

Jumping up, Cerro ran a few feet into the open, yelling as he brought his rifle up to his shoulder, "Go, Eddie, go."

The mercenary in the door of the garage, seeing Cerro, pushed the third hostage out of the way and began to bring his rifle up to his shoulder.

Cerro, however, was ready before the mercenary. Taking the best aim possible, he began firing away, one round at a time. Even after he hit the mercenary and saw him go down, Cerro continued to fire into him until Fast Eddie came around in front of him and blocked his view. Only then did he let the muzzle of his rifle down as he spun about to see what reaction their sudden attack had caused.

The two hostages who had been against the wall were still on the ground. Cerro couldn't tell if they were hit until Fast Eddie, coming up to them, started yelling for them to get up and back into the garage. Looking to his right, he saw the third hostage struggling to get up from where the mercenary had pushed him. Leaving Eddie to deal with them, Cerro took off for the tool shed, reaching the door in four or five quick bounds.

When she heard Cerro's rifle fire, followed by the detonation of Eddie's grenade, Kozak was up in a flash. That was it. Whatever was happening was happening now and happening fast. Without any further thought, Kozak leveled her rifle and took off at a run, yelling over her shoulder as she did so, ' 'At the double, 2nd Platoon. Keep your eyes open and follow me!"

At the door, Cerro saw a bolt and lock securing it. He put the muzzle of his rifle under the lock and prepared to shoot it off, but decided against that. There was no way of telling where all the shit from the shattered bolt and bullet would fly once he fired. Stepping back slightly, he lifted his right foot and kicked in the door near the bolt with the sole of his boot.

The dry wood gave way, letting the door fly open and throwing Cerro off balance. Once he had both feet on the ground, Cerro stepped forward into the doorway and looked inside.

"Miss Fields, we're Americans. You in here?" From the corner of the room, Cerro saw something move. Turning, he trained his rifle on it.

Seeing the black figure in the door, outlined by the light of the burning truck, and hearing the words "We're Americans" overwhelmed Jan. It took her a second before her dry throat could choke out, "Yes, yes. I'm okay. I'm okay." She was just beginning to cry for joy when the soldier in the door suddenly jerked, as if hit from behind, fell to his knees, and then flopped onto his face, his rifle landing on the ground just in front of Jan.

The shock of being shot took a moment to sink in. At first, as he had stood in the doorway, exposed, all Cerro had felt was a burning sensation in his calves of his legs and back. It was as if someone was jabbing hot needles into him. Only when he began to go down did it dawn upon him that he had been shot.

When he came to, everything seemed to have changed. There was a woman screaming in his ear. His face, in the dirt, was lying in something wet and sticky. His body felt weird, numb, sort of, and his mind seemed to be floating. Pulling his hands to his sides, he tried to push himself up.

This effort, however, was greeted with a spasm of pain that caused him to scream, falling back into the dirt after only lifting himself a few inches.

Cerro's second attempt to do something was more modest. He merely rolled himself over onto his back. As he lay there, he could hear gunfire out in the compound. The burning pickup lit the inside of the tool shed with a strange, flickering light. Moving his head about, he saw Jan for the first time. "You okay, Miss Fields?"

The captain's question caught Jan off guard. Jesus, she thought, what kind of a question was that? After all, here was this man, lying in his own blood, shot God knew where, and the first thing that came to his mind was her safety. It was the kind of thing that she expected from Scott. He would say something like that. He was always doing that to her, trying to play the he-man and overprotective male. When he did, it angered her. It was as if he considered her incapable of taking care of herself, treating her like a child.

But instead of anger, instead of being insulted that Cerro was acting like a typical male, Jan was touched. Gently taking his head in her hands, she bent over and kissed his forehead. "I'm okay."

He had no idea why she had kissed him. Everything was so weird. Cerro could hear shooting, but he couldn't decide what to do. People were shouting, too, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. He knew he had to do something, but he wasn't sure what to do first. At least, he thought, he wasn't in pain anymore. The sharp, burning pain was gone. Instead, he felt warm. Not hot. Just warm. It was a nice, comfortable feeling, like you get when you're wrapped in a comfortable blanket. Whatever it was that he needed to do could wait.

From the building next to the shed she was in, Jan could hear a nervous, anxious voice calling out, "Captain Cerro. Hey! Captain Cerro. You okay?"

Jan looked down at Cerro. He was out of it. "Captain Cerro's been wounded."

There was a pause, followed by a volley of rifle fire, before the voice outside came back. "You okay, lady?"

"Yes, I'm fine. But your captain needs help. Right away."

There was another pause. "Sorry, lady, but I'm hit too. They got my arm. Can you get over here, into the garage?"

Jan looked at Cerro. Though he was breathing and awake, he wasn't with it. She knew she couldn't lift him. And she knew she wasn't going to leave him. "No. I can't."

The next voice she heard was Joe Bob's. "Jan, stay where you are. I'm on my way."

After handing Ed Lewis the assault rifle he had taken from the dead mercenary in the doorway, Joe Bob looked over from the window at the soldier. "When you hear me yell, open up and see if you can keep those bastards busy. Got it?"

Fast Eddie thought the big cowboy was crazy, but he didn't say anything to stop him. Instead, he just nodded. "Yeah, I'll do what I can."

Turning away from the crazy cowboy, Eddie eased himself into the most comfortable firing position he could. When he was set, he peered out across the compound toward the storage building where most of the enemy fire seemed to be coming from. Ready, he lifted his rifle, took aim as best he could, and began to squeeze off three-round bursts.

Without another word, Joe Bob looked out the window over to the tool shed where Jan was, then hoisted himself up and out of it as soon as Fast Eddie began to open fire. As soon as he hit the ground, Joe Bob flattened himself out against the wall of the garage, looking about to see if he had attracted any attention. When he was sure he had not been observed, he got to his feet and prepared to cover the few feet between the garage and the door of the tool shed. That part, he knew, was going to be tricky.

When he was ready, he moved out.

With the mercenaries' attention centered on Fast Eddie and Lewis, Joe Bob jumped out of the shadows, taking great strides as he made for the door of the shed. Though he drew fire, it was wild and late, but not by too much. Joe Bob had barely cleared the door and thrown himself on the floor next to Jan and Cerro when a hail of gunfire from the storage building sent splinters and chips of metal flying about the tiny tool shed.

When there was a pause in the firing, Joe Bob pushed himself up off the floor and looked around the room, before he turned to Jan. Seeing that she was safe, he smiled."Thought you could use a little company."

With Guajardo hovering over him like the angel of death, Delapos watched the firefight unfold. From where he sat, on the side of a small mound just south of the eastern camp, Delapos could see his men scurrying about as they came out of the rear of the storage building and ran to take up positions in the machine shop and to reinforce the people in the admin building. A few, running over to the cantina, he knew, would not make it. For out of the darkness, coming from the east, he could see the forms of more soldiers emerging from the darkness. It would be over as soon as those soldiers hit the camp.

What happened there, however, no longer mattered to him. That Guajardo wanted something from him was obvious. Otherwise, Delapos knew, he would have been dead already. Though he suspected he knew the reason he was being kept alive, he wanted to confirm it. He didn't take his eyes off of the unfolding battle three hundred meters away when he began to question Guajardo. "What do you intend to do with me?"

Standing behind Delapos, his feet spread at shoulder width and his submachine gun at the ready, Guajardo heard Delapos's question but did not answer him immediately. He, too, was watching Kozak's platoon, rifles held at the ready, bayonets fixed, as it rushed to join the fight already in progress. Although he had no idea why the young American captain had started the firefight on his own, Guajardo didn't care. He had been right to leave the American cowboys to their games and take what he had come for. Even if every one of the American hostages died in the next few minutes, Guajardo knew they had achieved a great victory.

Looking down at Delapos, Guajardo smiled. "Whether you live or die, my friend, makes no difference to me. Your life, in the scheme of things, is not important. What you can do for me, in exchange for that life, is.

The choice will be yours. I trust that when the time comes, you will choose wisely." Looking back at the compound, Guajardo watched Kozak's platoon join the fight. Though he couldn't tell which of the running figures was Kozak, he could hear the female's high-pitched voice over the rifle fire as she issued her final orders. "Until then, my friend, sit back and enjoy the show."

While they were still approaching the compound, Kozak turned and issued her orders, trotting backward as she did so. "Sergeant Strange, take your squad to the right and secure the tool shed and garage. Watch for the hostages. Sergeant Kaszynski, you clear the cantina. Sergeant Zeigler, set your machine gun up to sweep the open area in the compound while your squad clears the storage building. Sergeant Maupin, go with 3rd Squad, I'll stay with 1st."

For a few seconds, Kozak watched as the 2nd and 3rd squads split off and headed for the buildings she had indicated to them. Satisfied, she turned around. "Okay, Kaszynski, let's go." Picking up the pace, Kozak closed the last few meters of open ground.

Just as she was passing between the cantina and the storage building, a figure jumped out from the front of the cantina and began running toward the storage building. Though he was silhouetted against the burning pickup, Kozak couldn't tell, at first, if he was friend or enemy. Only after the figure heard the tramping of Kozak's people coming up behind him did he turn away from the firefight in the compound and toward her. When he did, Kozak saw that his weapon and clothing weren't American.

Bringing her rifle down, Kozak attempted to fire from the hip, but got no response. Desperately she tried a second time, but the trigger wouldn't budge. There was no time to find out what was wrong. In another second she would either be on top of the figure or he would recognize the threat she presented and fire on her. Leveling her rifle, she thrust it out in front of her, locked her elbows and arms stiff, aimed for the figure's midsection, and charged.

Surprised by the sudden appearance of armed soldiers out of the darkness, the mercenary stopped and threw down his rifle as he prepared to surrender. Kozak's forward momentum, however, carried her through.

As soon as she felt her bayonet enter the mercenary just above his groin, she began to pull the front of her rifle up with all of her might while pushing the mercenary over to her left. Screaming, the mercenary grabbed for Kozak's rifle as he toppled over.

From "behind, Maupin saw that his platoon leader was in trouble.

Picking up his pace, he rushed forward, yelling, first to the right, then to the left, so that everyone could hear: "Mark your targets and fire at will.

Mark your targets and fire at will." Although it was terminology better suited for a rifle range, the soldiers of 2nd Platoon understood what he meant and began to go to work.

Reaching the corner of the cantina, Sergeant Strange and 3rd Squad were greeted by a large-caliber machine gun firing down into the compound from a position on the hill to their right. Going to ground, it took them several seconds to figure out that whoever was manning the machine gun I had not observed them yet. Instead, the machine gun's fire was wild and unaimed. Directing the crew of his M-60 to set up in the lee of the cantina, Strange ordered them to engage the enemy machine gun with a plunging fire. Though he doubted that his gun crew would actually be able, to put the machine gun on the hill out of action, at least his crew would be able to suppress it while the rest of 3rd Squad cleared the tool shed and garage.

Happy to have the chance finally to use the large machine gun and boxes of ammo that they had been hauling around all night, Strange's gun crew was ready to fire in a matter of seconds. When they were set, they waited a few more seconds, watching for the enemy gun's muzzle flash.

When they were sure they had it pinpointed, they began to fire bursts of fifteen to twenty rounds, adjusting their aim by walking their gun's tracer rounds into the enemy position. Once the gunner was satisfied, he began to fire longer bursts.

Satisfied with the effectiveness of his own gun's fire on the enemy position, Strange pushed himself off the ground, yelling to his squad to follow as he headed for the tool shed.

Though they knew that someone was close when the machine guns began to exchange fire, the sudden banging on the east side of the tool shed, followed by a booming voice, still caused Jan to jump and Joe Bob to turn the M-16 he had picked up off the floor at the source of the noise. "Captain Cerro, Eddie, you in there? It's Sergeant Strange!"

Recovered from her shock, Jan answered first. "Captain Cerro's in here, but he's hit bad."

The voice on the other side responded, "Okay, lady, hang on, we're comin' through."

Looking at each other, Jan asked Joe Bob what they meant. "Are they going to use explosives to blow a hole in the wall?''

Joe Bob shrugged, looking about the small confines of the tool shed.

"Shit, I hope not."

Instead of C-4, however, Strange had two of his men take the bayonets off their rifles and pry a loose sheet of metal off the shed. When it was off, Strange sent a rifleman, followed by a medic, through the hole. Before Strange left, he yelled to Jan through the hole, "Stay put, lady. I'm goin' over to the garage."

When Strange was gone, and while Jan held a flashlight for the medic working on Cerro, Joe Bob looked over at the rifleman who had joined him at the door facing into the compound. "Exactly where in the hell does your sergeant think me and the little lady are going to go, especially at this time of night?"

Rolling into a tight turn, Blasio aimed the nose of his helicopter due west at the eastern mercenary camp. Once the camp was in sight, Blasio straightened out his aircraft, bringing it down as low as he comfortably could while increasing his speed. Though he had no idea what had gone wrong with the plan, he knew that his colonel, as well as the prisoner he was after, were down there somewhere, in the middle of the firefight, waiting to be picked up. When his co-pilot asked how he knew that, Blasio, in a rather offhand manner, responded that Colonel Guajardo wouldn't have it any other way. Though the co-pilot really didn't understand, he did as Blasio instructed.

To the right, from the hills, Blasio could see tracers streaking down into the compound from the .50-caliber machine-gun positions that the American colonel had mentioned in his briefing. Though his speed and altitude would give those guns little opportunity to hit his aircraft with more than one or two aimed bursts of fire, Blasio didn't want to take the chance. After all, he was on the right side and it took only one .50caliber round to kill a man, aimed or not. Easing his joystick over to the left and down slightly, Blasio decided to fly to the south of the camp, using the buildings to shield his helicopter from the enemy guns to the north.

They had no sooner made that correction than the commander of the American Apaches came on the air, announcing that his four gunships were in position south of Bandito Base East and ready to engage. If that was true, and they began engaging, Blasio's present course, while pro tecting him from the mercenaries to the north, would place him, his crew, and his aircraft right in the American gunships' line of fire.

Realizing the danger, the co-pilot began to yell over to Blasio that they had to break off and go around, looking for another approach. Blasio, however, did not respond to his co-pilot's warning. Instead, he took a deep breath, twisted the throttle on the collective a little more to increase their speed, and fixed his attention straight ahead. "Keep your eyes open for the colonel. He will be waiting for us."

From across the open area of the compound, Kozak heard Strange call.

"Lieutenant Kozak. We got the hostages. The garage and tool shed are 2 secured."

Sticking her head around the corner of the cantina, near the ground, she replied to Strange's report. "Okay. Hold there, Sergeant Strange."

Pulling her head back, she looked over to the storage building. From where she sat, leaning against the south wall of the cantina, Kozak could hear gunfire and the explosion of grenades inside the storage building. As she was staring at that building, a head came thrusting out of the window

§of the cantina behind her. This caused Billy Bell, Kozak's radioman, to pull back a few feet and aim his rifle at the head protruding from the window. Sergeant Kaszynski ignored Bell, however, when he saw Kozak. "Hey, LT. The cantina's secured."

Without looking back, she ordered Kaszynski to stand fast with his squad in the cantina. While the machine gun next to her was firing, raking the administrative building with a long burst, Kozak reached out with her left hand and yelled, "Bell!"

From behind, Bell handed her the radio mike. "Sky King, this is Alpha two six. Over."

The warbling voice of the Apache attack helicopter company com mander came back over Kozak's radio. "Alpha two six, this is Sky King. What's going on down there? Do you have contact with Grunt six? Over."

"Sky King, this is two six. Grunt six is down. Break. We have secured the garage, the tool shed, the cantina and are clearing the storage building.

Break. Bad guys in machine shop, admin building, and hills to the north. Request you hit them and anyone in Bandito Base West. Over."

There was a pause before the Apache company commander replied.

"Understand we are cleared to attack machine shop, admin building, and Bandito Base West from the south. Over."

"This is two six. Affirmative. Start your attack when ready. Over."

"Two six. This is Sky King. Wilco, out."

Reaching back, Kozak returned the hand mike to Bell. She was about to get up and go over to the storage building when Sergeant Maupin came up behind her and told her that 2nd Squad had cleared the storage building.

After telling him to pass the word that the attack helicopters were coming in, Maupin saluted, responded with a "Yes, ma'am," and headed out to spread the word.

Maupin had no sooner disappeared into the darkness than a huge apparition, screaming in from the east, went streaking past Kozak's eyes like a runaway locomotive. The high-pitched whine of engines, along with a sudden blast of wind and sand that lashed at both Kozak and Bell, caused Bell to flatten out on the ground and scream, "Jesus Christ, what the fuck was that?"

Looking over to the storage building, behind which the blur had disappeared, Kozak brushed the dirt off her uniform as if this were an everyday occurrence, and grunted, "Oh, I'd say it was a UH-i helicopter."

Bell, still shaken, picked up his weapons. "Well, what in the hell was he doing?"

Kozak laughed. "Oh, I'd say about one hundred miles an hour at an altitude of one foot."

The same high-pitched whine of engines that shook Bell caused Guajardo's ears to perk up. Orienting on the approaching sound, Guajardo took a red-filtered flashlight from his pocket and flicked it on. Though he knew there was the remote possibility that doing so would draw fire, he also realized that if he didn't do so, Blasio would never find him. As an American friend had once told him, half jokingly, everything you do in combat, including doing nothing, draws fire.

"Over there, Lieutenant. To the left, a red flashlight."

Blasio hadn't even waited for his co-pilot to finish that simple statement before he had begun to reduce speed and carefully turned slightly to the left. Once he had the flashlight in sight, Blasio eased the helicopter over, ignoring the firing to his right and rear. He didn't even pay attention to the instruments to his front. Instead, with his eyes fixed on the red light, he felt his way forward until he was satisfied that he was where he needed to be. When he was ready, it took only a slight lowering of the collective and a twist of the throttle to bring the helicopter to rest on the ground.

Noting that only two men boarded the helicopter, Blasio felt a moment of panic. Had the colonel lost the man he was after?

Guajardo's greeting, however, told him that he had not been disappointed.

"You are, Lieutenant Blasio, right on time. My new friend here was getting quite bored watching the Americans."

Picking up on the colonel's good mood, and relieved that all was well, Blasio shot back, "Well, sir, is there somewhere I can take you that will be more to his liking?"

Guajardo turned to watch as the crew chief secured Delapos across from him. "Well, perhaps he might not enjoy it, but, yes, indeed, there is one more trip we need to make. But not tonight." Then, turning to Blasio: "Whenever you are ready, Lieutenant."

Easing back in the nylon seat, Guajardo allowed himself to relax.

There was nothing more to do. The crew chief and the soldiers he had brought along would watch Delapos. By the time Blasio had cleared the compound and reached an altitude of two hundred feet, Guajardo was sound asleep.

With nothing better to do, Kozak sat and watched the machine gun next to her continue to hammer away at the administrative building even though there was no longer any return fire coming from it. Bell, crawling up next to her, watched for a minute, then looked at his platoon leader.

"Now what do we do, LT?"

Watching the machine-gun crew at work, Kozak said nothing at first.

Then she sighed. "That," she said, "is a good question." With the 3rd Squad in control of the garage and hostages, 1st Squad secure in the cantina, and 2nd Squad mopping up the storage building, there really wasn't much to do. As she rested against the wall of the cantina, the only thing that came to Kozak's mind was the fact that she was thirsty. Reaching around, she unsnapped her canteen cover and pulled her two-quart canteen out. After taking a long swallow of water, she looked back at the machine gun.

Watching the machine-gun crew do their thing, and listening to the shouts of her NCOs going about their tasks, Kozak finally understood what Cerro had been driving at back at Fort Hood. Though she could have gone over to any of the squads and watched them, it would have served no purpose other than to occupy her time and give her the false impression that she was really doing something, when in fact she would only be hindering progress. No, Kozak knew that Cerro had been right. The NCOs knew what they were doing and they were doing it well.

Although things had not gone as planned or as she had expected, she felt good about what her platoon had done, and about her conduct. Even the little incident with the mercenary she had encountered when entering the compound, when she had forgotten to take the safety off before trying to fire her rifle, didn't bother her. She had reacted well and in an appropriate manner. Though she couldn't put her finger on what the difference was between this night's operations and her previous experiences, she felt good about herself.

Looking at her watch, then over to Bell, she offered him a drink from her canteen. "It's about time for us to go home, Bell. All we need to do now is wait for the fat lady to sing."

As if on cue, a volley of 2.75-inch high-explosive rockets, fired by the Apaches hovering off to the south somewhere, slammed into the machine shop and the administrative building. The glare of the rocket motors, and their detonation against the sides of the targeted buildings, lit up the predawn darkness, bringing the battle for Bandito Base East to a close.