El Garron checked the positions of his men, gesturing to move a squad a little closer. When all was ready, he allowed himself almost a full minute before getting down to business. After a deep breath, he bellowed out the order.
'Tiren--fire!'
Chapter 10
THE GRAN CHACO
FUERTE FRANCO
20 DECEMBER
CAMPAMENTO Astray was completely abandoned and left to the mercies of the elements. Even as the last man got aboard for the final helicopter lift to the new garrison, the thatched buildings looked as if the process of rot and disintegration was already beginning.
The entire Grupo de Batalla took over four square acres of land ten kilometers to the southwest. The heavily jungled Selva Verde Mountains could easily be seen in the distance. This new stronghold was designed to have a linked series of bunkers and other field fortifications that would be covered by tiers of logs and earth under camouflaged netting. The construction had already begun, and the sounds of backhoes, picks and shovels filled the area.
However, none of the Falangists were involved in this toil except as supervisors. They were all officers and noncommissioned officers who by military tradition and regulations were above laboring like peones. The problem of a work crew had been solved two days earlier by the Argentine Capitan Luis Bonicelli. He used Falangist members and fellow travelers in his country's Federal Police to arrange to have two dozen convicts flown in for the backbreaking work. These prisoners were under life sentences at a miserable penitentiary down in the wilds of Patagonia. They qualified for this dubious honor by being strong and robust for the grinding toil. Additionally, each of these men was picked for his lack of connections to the outside world. They were abandoned and forgotten men, already considered dead by family and friends.
After the chosen felons were culled from the general prison population, they were herded into the backs of trucks under tight security for the trip to the airport in Califate. Upon arrival they were hustled aboard an Argentine Air Force C-60 Transall already loaded with tools and a trio of backhoes for mechanical digging.
This was the first day of their labor, but remarkable progress was being made because of the brutal supervision of Suboficial Adolf Punzarron and Sargento Antonio Muller. The periodic appearance of Coronel Jeronimo Busch contributed greatly to the efficiency of the effort.
The first three bunkers constructed were those of the estado mayor--staff. The primary one was the Centro de Mando--the Command Bunker--where Generalisimo Jose Maria de Castillo y Plato maintained his headquarters. The Centro de Inteligencia--Intelligence Bunker--was used by capitan Diego Tippelskirch, while Suboficial Ignacio Perez maintained his files and supplies in the Centro de Administracion--the Administration Bunker. These facilities, with firing slits, were like the castle keeps in old medieval castles. They could also be the place to make a last stand in case of a massive attack. The bunkers were in a triangular arrangement on the high ground in the center of the fortress.
The construction of Fuerte Franco moved along rapidly and efficiently, well ahead of schedule.
.
CENTRO DE INTELIGENCIA
THIS was be the brain center of the Grupo de Batalla's operations, where all incoming and outgoing information would be processed and logged by Capitan. Diego Tippelskirch and his staff of experienced sargentos.
Just prior to the move from the camp to the fortress, Tippelskirch had received some new radios through operatives the generalisimo had in the signals staff in the Spanish Foreign Legion. One RMAL (Radio Militar Alcance Largo) long-range radio was placed in the Centro de Inteligencia, while several medium-range RMAM (Radio Militar Alcance Mediano) radios were distributed among the subunits of the Grupo de Batalla. When the commo gear was installed, Tippelskirch wasted no time in making contact with his numerous agents within the ranks of the Argentine, Bolivian and Chilean armed forces. New call signs and procedures were quickly worked out, and the Falangists were now ready to operate as a fighting outfit with superb communications capabilities that were tuned in, net organized and oriented to the nth degree.
.
1000 HOURS LOCAL
THE sargento on the RMAL radio took down the transmission that came across in five-letter word groups. He recognized the 'fist' of the other man through the dit and dah pattern of the transmission. The sender was an old pal from the Infanteria de Marina where the two had served together for some ten years.
As soon as the other operator signed off, the sargento ripped the message from from the pad. He swiveled his chair to face Capitan Tippelskirch's desk just behind him. 'Mensaje apremiante, mi capitan,' the sargento said. 'An urgent message.'
Tippelskirch took it, then worked the dial on the field safe at his feet. After pulling out his code book, he set about deciphering the garbled missive. It took ten minutes to decode it, and when it was in plain Spanish he smiled to himself. It was just as he suspected. The intelligence officer slipped on his field cap and left the Communications Center.
He walked directly over to the Centro de Mando where a quartet of convicts worked at pulling a camouflage net over the top. Tippelskirch went down to the entrance and stepped inside, saluting the Falangist leader Castillo.
'I have received a most meaningful message, mi generalisimo,' Tippelskirch reported.
'Congratulations,' the generalisimo said. 'It would appear your Intelligence Bunker is already up to speed.'
'Indeed,' Tippelskirch said proudly. 'It comes through a mole I have inside the national security office in Santiago. He informs me he has solid proof that the Petroleo Colmo Company here on the Gran Chaco has strong American ties. Some messages to and from them have been relayed to a known CIA facility in Colombia.'
'That is a most significant and useful thing to know,' the generalisimo said. 'I think there are many ways we can work this to our advantage.'
'I smell the Yanqui influence all over this,' Tippelskirch said. 'No doubt of it!'
'Now we know for sure our bandido foe is an American force,' the generalisimo said. 'The more knowledge one has of the enemy, the more advantageous, no?'
'Such intelligence is worth a thousand men, mi generalisimo.'
.
1600 HOURS LOCAL
THE helicopter landing pad was no more than a quickly cleared area of land twenty meters north of the headquarters bunkers. The pilot could easily d unevenness of the ground, and he lowered the aircraft slowly until its wheels gently touch down. The first man off was Capitan Roberto Argento. He turned to his sargento, shouting over the noise of the engine. 'Get over to the Centro de Inteligencia and tell capitan Tippelskirch to meet me at headquarters immediately!'
As the noncommissioned officer rushed off, the five men who made up the rest of the patrol disembarked, walking rapidly away from the helicopter. Casual observers could see that something was wrong from the way they stuck together, talking softly among themselves as they made their way to their unit bunker.
Within a couple of minutes Tippelskirch joined Argento at the entrance to the headquarters, and both went into the fortification to speak with Castillo. The generalisimo was concerned by the expression on Argento's face.
'Mi generalisimo,' Argento said, saluting. 'We have come back from a visit to the village of Novida. We found all the people dead. Men, women and children. All shot by automatic fire. Some who had survived the preliminary bursts had been dispatched by single shots to the head from pistols.'
Castillo was so shocked he quickly stood up, almost bumping his head on the low bunker ceiling. 'Who could have done such a thing?'
Tippelskirch smiled. 'I think perhaps the CIA.'
'We could see where three helicopters had landed,' Argento said. 'The killers must have surrounded the
