be concealed in the scrub and rocks on the other side of the perimeter road. In all, I expect you to be in the camp for no more than five to seven minutes – ten at the outside.
At precisely the same time as Salvador is being entered and the blockhouse being neutralized, Brick's team, Shadow Four, will enter Dali, the supergun valley. In this case, they will bring in their Guntrack when the internal opposition has been neutralized. Here, apart from mercenaries at the entrance, you will have to deal with four Yaibo guarding the supergun control bunker. That done, you can tame the supergun and check out what kind of warheads they have in store. No matter what you find, I expect you to be inside for no more than fifteen minutes.
'All of this adds up to three synchronized assaults taking out respectively the terrorists, the supergun, and the blockhouse that commands the two valleys. The watchwords are stealth, speed, and silence.
'Although you know the enemy dispositions full well, I am going to repeat that we are not just up against around fifty Yaibo terrorists. On the left-hand side of the main camp, Salvador, as you enter – that is the side opposite the Yaibo barracks – there is tented accommodation for over six hundred Tecuno mercenary soldiers, and just to make life more interesting, there are normally half a dozen tanks laagered up in the middle, and there is a helicopter pad. In short, tiptoes might be a good idea. These guys are classified as special forces themselves, and though they may not be the best in the world, even six hundred idiots can spray a lot of lead around, and they have other unfriendly toys like heavy mortars and rocket launchers.
'To further encourage discretion, I would remind you that the twin valleys, Salvador and Dali, that make up the Devil's Footprint are bordered by a perimeter road that also circles the Madoa military airfield only eight kilometers away. Convoys of armor patrol that perimeter road. Finally, I should mention that the Madoa airfield, apart from being the base for two thousand more troops, boasts MiG-23s and armed helicopters. So be discreet folks. Keep the decibels down.
'The mercenaries – the battalion in the Devil's Footprint and the brigade in the air base – are not on the menu unless we have no alternative. But if the shit does hit the fan, I want very serious destruction.
'These people are not our friends. They threaten our countries. They threaten our values. They have already killed many hundreds of our people. So do not pull back. I can promise you, this is no time to be nice. They won't kiss you back. And I intend to go home no matter what is in the way. Fundamentally, like Lee here, I'm a carpet slippers type.'
There was laughter, and Steve Kent slapped Cochrane on the back. The incident was a small thing, but Lee at last felt part of the team. It was a strange feeling, as if a circuit had been closed. He no longer had to prove anything. He just had to perform better than he would ever have thought possible. By himself it could not be done. With these people – his people – he would do it. Unit pride? It was more than that. It was an understanding; something very deep and very strong. It was a higher level of commitment. Beyond words.
It was a crazy feeling. It was probable that he was about to die. But he was happy.
Fitzduane had joined in the laughter. Now he turned serious and held a hand up for silence. 'I have to talk about a sad event, the death of a very brave man. It behooves us to pay attention. What we are about to witness could be any one of us. This is the face of our enemy. It says everything that needs to be said.
'The quality of our intelligence on the target has a great deal to do with Koancho, the Japanese security service, and their agent in place, Hori- san. Recently you memorized his photograph so that you would not kill him in error. The intention had been that Chifune would go in in advance to remove her colleague from the line of fire. Now, I regret to say, it is academic. Yesterday the recce team witnessed this.'
A ruggedized television monitor had been set up to show the videos of the target made by the reconnaissance team. So far they had viewed the routine functioning of the camp both in context and in close-up. Now the high-power telephoto lens of the miniaturized surveillance camera was focused on the Yaibo compound in the Salvador valley. It was wired off from the general camp area.
It looked at first at if some game was being played.
There were two teams of roughly fifteen people, each side pulling at opposite ends of a rope as if it were a tug-of-war.
But there was someone in the middle. And his hands and feet were bound and the rope was looped in a slipknot around his neck.
He was being executed.
The camera zoomed in, and they could see the man's face in close-up as his face and body contorted and he was slowly – very slowly – strangled to death.
Fitzduane froze the image. 'I don't think we need to see any more. The whole think took over fifteen minutes and ended up with his decapitation by rope. That is Yaibo in action. They have a tradition of purges. Why? Who knows?'
He looked at Chifune. Her face was expressionless, but he could feel a great grief. There was no anger. Instead there was a feeling of enormous strength, of resolution.
Hori- san had died, but his torch had been passed. His sense of purpose would live on. Those who had killed him would pay for their crime. It was a matter of justice, and it was certain.
'I am deeply sorry, Chifune,' said Fitzduane. 'Sorry for what has happened and sorry to have to show you the manner of his death.'
Chifune lifted her eyes, and there were tears in them. 'It was necessary,' she said. 'We all have to understand. To know.'
There was silence in the group.
Chifune looked back to the frozen image. Her face was pale. 'It makes me ashamed to be Japanese,' she said quietly. 'Why do we produce people who could do such things? What are we doing that is so wrong?'
'Nothing to be ashamed of Chifune,' said Calvin. 'The man who died was Japanese too. Every nation has good and bad. That's just the way of it.'
Chifune raised her hand and gently placed two fingers on the monitor screen on the frozen scene of the dying man's face. It was at once a gesture of affection and farewell.
Fitzduane switched off the video and the screen went blank and there was silence for a little time. It seemed appropriate. No one had met the man who had died, but he had been a colleague. He deserved respect.
The group dispersed, but Calvin remained behind.
He cleared his throat. 'I'd like to change the aviation plan. I've been thinking, and I can do more than fly top cover.'
Fitzduane looked at him. It was a relief to be able to focus on a technical problem, and Calvin was normally worth listening to. 'A little late in the day, Calvin, don't you think?'
Calvin reminded him in a way of U.S. General Billy Mitchell. Mitchell had pioneered the use of airpower in warfare in the 1920s, against stubborn opposition, with such enthusiasm that he had been court-martialed for his pains before the merit of his thinking had been vindicated.
Calvin had the same zeal when it came to pushing the airborne role in special-forces operations. He was not just a competent aviator. He had a definite vision of how air assets might be used, and he and Fitzduane had talked at length on the subject.
Calvin nodded. 'I should have spoken earlier, but I wanted to get the hang of the terrain first. Now I'm sure I can do it, and it won't change the ground assault plan.'
'Do what?' said Fitzduane.
'Hit Madoa airfield,' said Calvin. 'When we bug out after the assault, the greatest threat is going to come from the air, and in particular from helicopter gunships. They are the ones that can hunt us down and counter the Guntracks' speed and agility. Sure, I know we've got air defenses, but I think it makes more sense to take them out on the ground.'
Fitzduane thought for a moment. The microlight was a tiny machine and up to now it had been positioned only for observation. But maybe that was blinkered thinking.
'When would you propose doing this, Calvin? There is a balance here between alerting the enemy flyboys and making the hit. Throwing stones at a wasps' nest is not a good idea.'
Calvin smiled. 'I'd suggest striking after the ground attack on the Devil's Footprint,' he said. 'That way Madoa airbase won't alert the target before we are in, and at the same time when the target calls them they'll be too busy with their own world of woe to respond.'
'Do you really think you can do that much damage from the SkyEye?' said Fitzduane. 'You don't have much of a payload left after the FLIR.'
