across this hemisphere: stronger, more intelligent, more and better led than ever before. A new world was in the making.
Toledo put the drink to his lips and drained the snifter.
.
LOS BLANCOS, ARGENTINA 28 NOVEMBER1500 HOURS LOCAL
BRANNIGAN'S Brigands were all together now. They celebrated Thanksgiving in a corner of a rat-infested warehouse with MREs and a local brand of beer called Cristal. They put on a good show, but in truth the affair fell short. Several members of the detachment would have been back in hometowns with family if it hadn't been for this current operation, and the married men felt especially lonely; even the bachelors would have at least been in a base chow hall enjoying a traditional menu in a holiday atmosphere. But here they were, way down in South America, off by themselves, hiding like escaped convicts in dank surroundings.
Frank Gomez sorely missed his wife and little boy. 'Christmas is really going to suck this year.'
'Hanukkah ain't exactly gonna be a wingding jubilee,' Dave Leibowitz observed.
The sound of the door opening caught their attention, and everyone's eyes turned in that direction, hoping to see something interesting or perhaps encouraging. But it was only Alfredo, coming in.
'Happy Thanksgiving!' he said cheerfully. He noted the lack of response and shrugged. 'Anyhow, I have the latest intelligence from the Gran Chaco to pass on to you:'
The SEALs stopped eating, giving him their full attention.
'Okay,' Alfredo continued, 'we know now that a group of the Falangist troops are out there. We don't know how many of them there are, or where they're located, or what their intentions are, or how they're equipped.'
Joe Miskoski groaned loudly. 'You call that intelligence?'
'It's a big, empty country out there,' Alfredo said defensively. 'Just keep in mind the enemy knows less about you. As far as can be determined, they have absolutely no idea of your existence, much less that you're on your way.'
'All right!' Brannigan said loudly. 'Let's not start bitching! The fact we're able to make a clandestine infiltration gives us one hell of an advantage. I'm going to do a map reconnaissance this evening and pick out an easily defended area for a base camp. From that point on, we'll start going up and down rivers, creeks, streams, mud puddles and shit holes until we find the sons of bitches. Once we have the intelligence we need, we'll take the appropriate action.' He looked around. 'Are you listening, Odd Couple?'
'Yes, sir,' came Mike Assad's voice from the back of the crowd.
'You and Leibowitz had better rest up while you can,' Brannigan said to the pair of detachment scouts. 'You two are gonna be running your asses off.'
'Right,' Dave Leibowitz said under his breath. 'Like that's a big surprise.'
'What did you say?' Brannigan asked.
Dave grinned weakly. 'I said, 'That'll be nice.'
attitude, Leibowitz,' Brannigan said. He turned to Alfredo. 'When are we going in?'
'Tomorrow morning,' the CIA operative replied. 'And again. Happy Thanksgiving.'
He walked from the warehouse, and the SEALs turned back to their holiday repast.
Chapter 3
THE GRAN CHACO SEAL BASE CAMP
30 NOVEMBER
LIEUTENANT Wild Bill Brannigan chose the site for the permanent base camp after making a close study of a combination of maps and satellite photographs of the OA. The selected area was situated on firm ground where the Lozano Grasslands and Los Perdidos Swamp came together. The farther someone walked from the grassy area westward into the swamp, the softer and wetter the terrain became until the wanderer would be in water that could be anywhere from ankle deep to over his head. To add an attribute of danger to the marshy environment, pools of quicksand lay hidden under the murky depths.
This swamp was definitely not visitor friendly.
The base camp location offered an easily defended position as well as a handy place where supplies and ammunition could be securely cached. The marshland also made it unnecessary to set up a defensive perimeter of 360 degrees. The firing positions were arranged in a horseshoe shape with the open side next to the bog. Not even the most determined enemy would be able to mount an effective attack from that direction. A system of streams that offered enough depth for the raider boats and piraguas ran from the north side of the camp to the nearby Rio Ancho. As far as Brannigan could determine, the river would be the main travel route used in the coming operation against the Falangists.
The Command Element was located to the center rear of the horseshoe, while the First Assault Section covered the center right around to the right flank. The left center and flank were protected by the Second Assault Section. However, there were no trees, and the grass was not high enough to offer much in the way of concealment. This problem was dealt with handily through the use of camouflage netting slung low to the ground. In addition to protecting the fighting positions from sight, the arrangement provided concealment for Brannigan's CP, the supply stockpile watched over by the Odd Couple, Frank Gomez's commo center, and the medical aid station set up by Hospital Corpsman James Bradley. Additionally, a trio of temporary OPs had been put out in front of the perimeter for use when necessary.
The detachment also constructed some small, fortified dugouts to be used as living quarters. The abodes were quickly dubbed 'hooches,' and were also skillfully camouflaged to blend in naturally with the local surroundings. Most of these earthen domiciles were occupied by two or three SEALs who shared the housekeeping and maintenance chores.
It was from this bucolic headquarters complex sunk into the terrain of the Gran Chaco that Brannigan's Brigands would carry on their campaign against the enigmatic enemy known as Falangists. Even to the pragmatic SEALs, used to operating under austere and perilous circumstances, this latest setup had an eerie, unknown quality about it. It was almost like being on another planet, albeit a hot, steamy mosquito-infested one.
RIO ANCHO
0830 HOURS
IT was raining heavily as the First Assault Section under Lieutenant (J. G.) Jim Cruiser came down the Rio Ancho in a raider boat towing a piragua to use when silent traveling was necessary. The Odd Couple, Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz, had been attached to the patrol to act in their usual capacity as scouts. After a short twenty- minute run along the waterway, the patrol reached a point where a large creek intersected the river. Cruiser decided to hold up at that location and send the Odd Couple forward in the piragua to see what lay ahead.
The section moved into the cover offered by the vegetation along the banks to wait for the result of the Odd Couple's recon. Chad Murchison and Garth Redhawk were put on outpost duty a dozen meters up the creek. The pair, their ponchos dripping, sloshed through the wet grass to reach the position.
Redhawk, one of the new men in the Brigands, was a Kiowa-Comanche from southwestern Oklahoma. This descendant of two of the fiercest warrior tribes of the American prairie country was the quintessential Native American. The SEAL was dark-skinned with coal-black hair, and his sharp features gave him a rather aggressive countenance when he wasn't smiling. The effect was intensified when he applied camouflage paint to his face. Rather than put on irregular smears like everyone else, he applied a special pattern used by the Comanche warriors of old. The bold stripe over his eyes and the zigzag pattern down his cheeks symbolized thunder and lightning, the plains Indians' representation of war. It was something learned from his grandfather, who was a member of a society dedicated to the study of the culture and history of their ancestors. This elder Redhawk, a retired schoolteacher, wag in the finishing stages of writing a Kiowa-English dictionary in a project to preserve the native tongue before it disappeared altogether from use.
It was from his grandfather that Redhawk learned about the tradition of medicine bundles for divine protection in battle. His was a small pouch that contained a hunk of wood from an Oklahoma cottonwood tree that had been struck by lightning. The other item was the original trident badge issued him by the Navy when he qualified as a SEAL. The young Native American would add other charms as his combat experiences multiplied.
Chad Murchison crouched in the grass beside Redhawk as they maintained watch out over the empty rain- swept grasslands to their direct front. The two, who hadn't known each other before Redhawk's arrival in the detachment, had been silent for almost a half hour. Then Redhawk asked, 'How come you guys call Assad and Leibowitz the Odd Couple?'
