coronel said. 'I have a suggestion.'
'And what might that be?' Castillo asked.
'I think we should team up that Frenchman Chaubere with Punzarron and Muller.'
Castillo came to a halt and looked at him. He suddenly smiled. 'That is an excellent suggestion, Coronel. I will have Ignacio take care of the paperwork for the assignment:'
.
1400 HOURS LOCAL
WHEN Generalisimo Castillo walked into the staff meeting area of the thatched headquarters hut, he found everyone present and accounted for. Comnel Jeronimo Busch, Comandantes Javier Toledo and Gustavo Cappuzzo, and the intelligence officer Capitan Diego Tippelskirch were ready to conduct business. Even diminutive and edgy Suboficial Ignacio Perez was in his place with his pads of papers and folders.
'First things first,' Castillo said, sitting down. 'What are our latest strength figures, Ignacio?'
Ignacio quickly pulled out the correct folder. 'With the nine new men who arrived today, we now have a total of ninety-four men, mi generalisimo. So far we have had six men killed and one is missing in action.'
'They shall be avenged, por Dios!' Castillo said. 'Anything else?'
'Our rations, ammunition and equipment inventory is more than adequate, mi generalisimo,' Ignacio said. 'Also, we will soon receive another helicopter that has beenwell--that is to say--donated to the Ejercito Falangista by members of the Argentine Air Force.'
Everyone laughed loudly at the little man's understatement, and Castillo asked, 'What sort of aircraft is it, Ignacio?'
'It is an SA-330 Puma, mi generalisimo,' Ignacio reported. He pulled out a descriptive document on the helicopters. 'It is manufactured in Great Britain by Westland Helicopters and can travel at two hundred and seventy-eight kilometers an hour.'
Busch didn't give a damn about the mechanical or technical features of the aircraft. 'How many men can it carry, Perez?'
'Sixteen fully equipped soldiers can be transported in its troop compartment, mi coronel,' he said replacing the papers in the folder. 'It should arrive here sometime within the next two days.'
'That's good news!' Busch exclaimed. 'Now we can get serious. Between the new helicopter and the EC-635, we will be able to carry twenty-four troops into battle.'
'Things improve almost on a daily basis:' Castillo stated happily. He nodded to Tippelskirch. 'Anything going on in intelligence, Capitan?'
'Si, mi generalisimo,' Tippelskirch replied. 'I have been very curious about this petroleum research company that flies constantly over the Gran Chaco. My usual sources have no information on them, but I have a contact in the Chilean Bureau of Security that can get me the information I need. However, it will take some time.'
'Stay on that,' Castillo ordered. 'Anything else?'
'I visited the village of Novida and interrogated the headman there,' Tippelskirch said. 'Suboficial Punzarron acted as my interpreter, of course. I wanted to find out more about that enemy unit that passed through the area. After an hour of questioning, I have reached the conclusion the interlopers are Americans.'
'Are you saying that the United States has dispatched armed forces into the Gran Chaco?' Castillo asked.
Tippelskirch shrugged. 'I can't be sure of that. Perhaps they are from an American private military company. This is a new industry that has sprung out of the attack on New York City on Nueve-Once--Nine-Eleven.'
'I believe such businesses only provide local security and bodyguards,' Castillo said.
'Well, there is always the possibility they are CIA,' Tippelskirch pointed out.
'Bah!' Castillo snarled. 'They are bandidos, eh? And that's the way I want them to be referred to. Not as honorable soldiers or even guerrillas. everyone make a note of that! They are bandidos! That will give our men more confidence when they go out to fight and kill them.'
'I have a couple of suggestions, mi generalisimo,' Busch said. 'I strongly suggest we move out of this garrison. The bandidos know this location and have even attacked us here. We should set up a fortified area with bunkers, barbed wire and mines.'
'But we do not have the labor force necessary for such an undertaking,' Castillo argued.
The Argentine Capitan Argento interjected, 'I have an excellent solution to that problem, mi generalisi take care of it through contacts I have in the Argentine Federal Police.'
'I'll leave that to you, Argento,' Castillo said. He gestured to Comandantes Toledo and Cappuzzo. 'You two will each detail men to search out a proper area where field fortifications can be constructed.' Now his eyes snapped back to Busch. 'Any more suggestions, Coronel?'
'Since the two helicopters give us the capability of setting up ambushes and sneak attacks, I think we should form up a special equipo comando--commando team,' Busch said.
Once more Castillo approved. 'And who are you considering for the team?'
'It's is a suggestion I made once before,' Busch said. 'Suboficial Punzarron, Sargento-Mayor Chaubere, and Sargento Muller.'
Ignacio spoke up. 'That has already been done, mi generalisimo!'
.
STATE DEPARTMENTWASHINGTON, D. C.
16 DECEMBER
1045 H0URS LOCAL
THE cab pulled up in front of the State Department building, just outside the cement barricades put up to thwart suicide bomber vehicles. The passenger got out, turning to pay his fare, then walked up toward the building. After presenting an I. D. card at the door, he was admitted into the lobby. A quick exchange at the security desk between the man and the duty officer resulted in a phone call.
Moments later a balding young man in a white shirt, tan slacks and loafers appeared. He and the visitor recognized each other and shook hands, then the pair walked across the chamber to an empty elevator and got in. Eight seconds later they reached the third floor, stepping out into a hallway that led down to the office of Carl Joplin, PhD, Undersecretary of State. They walked into the reception area, and the young man turned the visitor over to the receptionist.
She smiled at him. 'How are you today, Mr. Sanchez?'
'I am fine, thank you,' Arturo Sanchez, special envoy from the government of Bolivia, replied. 'I received a message to call on Dr. Joplin as quickly as possible.'
'I'll let him know you're here,' the receptionist said. She picked up her phone. 'Mr. Sanchez has arrived, sir.' She hung up. 'You may go in.'
Sanchez stepped through an unmarked door to find Joplin sitting at his desk. They shook hands, and the Chilean took an offered chair. Sanchez had a great deal of respect for the African-American undersecretary, and he waited patiently for him to initiate whatever proceedings he had in mind for the visit.
Joplin, as was his habit, cut to the chase. 'There is a village of illegal alien Brazilians in Bolivia. They are engaged in raising cattle in the Gran Chaco area.'
'I am not aware of them, Dr. Joplin, but I have no doubt that your information is correct,' Sanchez said. 'Would they have become involved in the unhappy circumstances in that part of my country?'
'They are not involved in the fighting,' Joplin replied, 'but they aid the Falangist movement as observers. They pass on information to them.'
'That is intolerable,' Sanchez stated, using a calm, diplomatic tone when speaking the angry words.
'Novida--that is their name for the village where they live--makes our men's mission down there more difficult,' Joplin explained. 'These are black people who view the local authorities with a marked amount of fear and mistrust. I have most reliable information that the fascists have offered them protection in exchange for serving them. Gifts of food are also involved in the exchanges.'
'I can see that these villagers are dealt with right away,' Sanchez said. 'They are cooperating with enemies of the state.'
'I would like to emphasize that these are decent people,' Joplin cautioned him. 'They are not involved in criminal activity, and they can't be blamed for accepting whatever help they can get. As undocumented foreigners, they have no place to turn when things go bad for them. Therefore, the United States government would prefer that
