“I’ll be damned,” Harvey marveled.
“I told you she was good,” Jonathan said.
Venice continued, “That first yellow plume we saw was the gasoline in operation. I figured it would be easier to find when it was in use, and I figured that the big building was the actual factory. I just needed to see what it looked like in use, where vapor concentrations are high, so that I could look for it in storage, where vapors are more contained.”
“I’ll be double-damned,” Harvey said. “So, now that we know where it is, what are we going to do with it?”
Jonathan and Boxers exchanged glances, and together said, “Blow it up.”
Jonathan expanded, “We’re going to need a diversion to get our PC out of there in one piece. If we give the guards a choice of saving one kid or saving the whole compound, maybe we can catch a break.”
“Speaking of breaks,” Venice said. There was a sudden lightness in her tone. “Wait till you see this.” The screen blinked with another refreshed signal, and then they were looking at a clear image of the coca field again.
Not much seemed to have changed. The workers still toiled, and shadows were still sharp. It wasn’t until she started to zoom into the workers that Jonathan got that anticipatory quiver in his gut. Was it possible that she’d found Evan in the middle of the crowd?
The answer came when he got his first flash of white-blond hair. He pointed to the screen. “Holy shit, that’s him, isn’t it?”
The boy stood with a tall black man and another child. It was hard to tell from a still picture, but they appeared to be having a conversation. “Take me in as close as you can.”
Even as he said the words, he knew that he’d overstated. If Venice took the imagery in as close at it was capable of going, they’d be able to count the freckles on his shoulders. As it was, Venice understood his meaning and brought them in to within four or five feet.
“I see a white boy with long blond hair,” Boxers said. “Look at the sunburn on his shoulders. That’s someone not used to this much exposure. I give it a ninety-nine percent.”
Jonathan agreed. “I call that confirmation,” he said. “That makes us a go. Mother Hen, can you put a tag on him somehow and keep up with him?”
Silence.
“You still there?” Jonathan asked.
“I’m here,” she confirmed. “I just don’t know how to answer you. His heat signature is going to be just like everybody else’s. I can track him visually, but that gets to diminishing returns really quickly. After dark, he’ll be lost.”
“Screw it,” Boxers said. “We already know he’s there. Once we create a little chaos, we just search him out.”
“That’s a lot of chaos,” Jonathan said. “I don’t want to have to find a moving target if people start running around.”
“Then we’ll find him before we blow the gas. Eyeball the kid, then bring hell to life.”
“Then we’ll be the only things moving in the camp,” Harvey said. “I’m not the tactician that you guys are, but that sounds scary.”
Boxers laughed. “Scary, huh? You do know about the guns and stuff, right?”
“I’ve got it,” Venice said.
All heads turned to the computer. “Got what?” Jonathan asked for all of them.
“How to track him after dark-at least until he goes under cover. It’s not about acquiring his heat signature. It’s about eliminating all the other identical heat signatures.”
Jonathan looked to Boxers. “Did you understand that?”
“Absolutely not.”
Jonathan smiled. “So it’s not just me.”
“It’s a simple concept,” Venice continued. “Normally, we worry about heat signatures as a way to differentiate one target from others. That doesn’t work in a population of targets who all have a signature of ninety-eight point six degrees, give or take a couple of tenths. So what we do instead is teach the computer to ignore all but one of the identical signatures.”
“Oh, I get it,” Jonathan said. He wasn’t sure he actually did, but as he said so, he made a slicing motion to the others, telling them not to pursue it any further. When Venice said it was possible, it was possible. Understanding the hows and whys really wasn’t all that important.
“It shouldn’t take all that long,” Venice said. “First I want to mark the GPS coordinates for every target and download them to your equipment. We don’t want you getting lost in the dark.”
Jonathan smiled. Technology had changed so much of warfare over the years; and it wasn’t just in the weaponry. In fact, the business of the actual fight hadn’t changed much at all. You still had to pierce the flesh of other human beings to kill them, albeit with progressively greater accuracy and effectiveness. The real changes came in the noncombat elements. When Venice was done with the download she’d just mentioned, the specific coordinates of every landmark in the enemy compound would be documented to within inches, as would the details of their infiltration and exfiltration routes. On a cloudy, foggy night with zero visibility, they could arrive at their destination and get home again. It was a whole new world of land navigation.
While Venice worked on her cyberspace easel, Jonathan and his team hammered out their assault plan. Given the limits of their intel, it was necessarily straightforward. Get in, create a diversion, and get out. Any enemy with a weapon would be killed without hesitation. Unarmed enemies would be spared as long as they stayed out of the way.
“Tactically, Box, you’re the explosives king. Harvey, you’re the medic. I’m the lead on whatever entry we need to make. We stay together as a team, we cover each other’s asses, but once we have the PC in hand, nothing stands in the way of getting him to the vehicles. And I mean nothing, understand? If things go to shit and we get separated, whoever gets to the vehicle with Evan leaves immediately and goes to the exfil site. The reason we have two vehicles is specifically to plan for us getting split up.
“Once the PC is secure and on his way, if we’re separated, there’s some room for improv.” He looked directly at Harvey. “You’re the new guy on the team, so you need to know the rules of engagement. We will not leave you behind if you’re alive, unless it’s the only way to exfil the PC. Understand?”
“Us jarheads aren’t big on leaving people behind, either,” Harvey said.
Jonathan nodded. “Didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” He checked his watch. “It’s five twenty-eight. That gives us fifty-six minutes till sunset, and that’s when we step off. Figure three hours to get to the compound, and then the night gets interesting. One way or another we should be clear of this shithole country in thirteen hours, tops.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“Spit that shit out,” Charlie said when Victor finally walked away. “It’ll mess up your head. These people are all half crazy anyway. Don’t need anybody being any crazier.”
Evan hooked a finger into his cheek and pulled out the foul-tasting leaves. “How do you keep him from hitting you?”
Charlie’s expression said, Give me a break. “Remember the scars? That’s the part I’m not good at.” He walked to one of the few trees that were growing amid the field of bushes and pulled off a few of the green leaves. “Suck on these.”
“What are they?”
Charlie shrugged. “Not a clue. Not that other shit, but after you suck on ’em for a while they look the same, and they don’t make you feel like crap.”
Evan took the leaves gratefully and slid them into the space formerly occupied by the coca leaves. “Why are you here?”
“We better get to work,” Charlie said. “There’s nothing to this. You just pull the leaves off and stuff them into
