Congressman Ed Lewis, Jan, and her crew. From the branch of the Red Cross that dealt with prisoners of war, to the United Nations, representatives of the United States were demanding that the Mexican government stop denying any knowledge of the incident and surrender the hostages immediately. The Mexican government, for their part, denied that it had any part in or any knowledge of the incident.
The CIA, working inside Mexico, could not find any evidence that they were lying. On the contrary, their agents reported that several Mexican intelligence and police agencies were also involved in trying to find Congressman Lewis and party. Though some believed that the efforts by the Mexican intelligence agencies were a sham, created to back the Mexican government's claim that it had no knowledge of the incident, it could not be ignored.
Within the 16th Division's sector, ground and air patrols, starting at the site of the abduction and spreading out in ever-widening circles, continued to search for the raiders and for Lewis and party, or for any clue as to where they might have disappeared to. That Lewis and the members of his party might be dead was not discounted by anyone. Included in the instructions of all patrols involved was to keep an eye open for anything that resembled freshly dug graves.
Though Big Al favored these actions, he was concerned that his soldiers, incensed over what the media were calling the brutal murder of the MPs and Lewis's military escort, might seek revenge on innocent Mexicans.
Already there had be.en two incidents in which nervous guards, already on edge due to the sporadic guerrilla attacks that were becoming more and more numerous, had fired on civilians. If this were allowed to continue, Big Al could face a situation that would compel him to quit the area that his division had paid so much to take.
Cerro walked into the current-operations van, ready to relieve his counterpart from the night shift, Captain Mark Grumpf. Cerro was about to slap Grumpf on the back when he noticed Dixon, sitting at a field table in the corner. Alone, his head propped up with his right hand, Dixon was poring through the duty log, reading every entry and report. Cerro leaned over and whispered in Grumpf's ear, 'How long has he been here?'
Grumpf looked over at Dixon, then to Cerro. 'He left at oh-two hundred this morning and was back in at oh- five thirty.'
Cerro stood up and looked at Dixon for a moment. He felt sorry for the man. A few years before, Dixon had lost his wife in a bombing while he was assigned to the Middle East. Though Cerro had been told that they were estranged, the loss had to have been hard on him. Now, in the middle of a war, he had lost his…
Cerro paused. He didn't quite know what to call Jan Fields. What was Jan Fields to Dixon anyway? A lover? A friend? A roommate? It was a strange relationship, at least for the military, which prided itself as being the last great bastion of conservative values and such. No one talked about Jan and Dixon's relationship, but it was one that meant a grpat deal to Dixon, and one that he never tried to hide or apologize for. To be sure, Jan was good-looking, for an older woman. And she had a great personality. In many ways, she matched Dixon perfectly.
Still, Cerro couldn't figure out what to call the relationship between them. Perhaps there wasn't a name for it. Perhaps, Cerro thought, the relationship they had was like Dixon's military career, one of those things that simply defied definition and refused to be classified.
Shaking his head, Cerro was about to join Grumpf, who had moved to the map in preparation for giving Cerro a quick update, when the division G2 came rushing into the van. 'Scotty, we've got 'em.'
Startled, Dixon looked up at the G2 with blurry eyes. 'Got who?'
'Remember me telling you that I thought it was strange that there were no weapons missing from the MP or Lewis ambush sites?''
Not really remembering, Dixon nevertheless nodded his head in order to get the G2 to make his point a little faster.
Continuing, the G2 pointed a finger toward Dixon to emphasize his points. 'In every other ambush, those that we know were made by units of the Mexican Army or guerrilla units led by Mexican Army officers, every piece of equipment and weapon that looked like it would be of value was missing. Even when they didn't overrun the unit under attack, the Mexican guerrillas were reported to take what commanders in the field considered extraordinary risks to collect whatever they could before withdrawing. You see, the Mexican Army, especially guerrilla units, are still quite poor when it comes to weapons and equipment r and they refuse to miss an opportunity to make up that deficiency.' The G2 was talking too fast for Dixon to follow, but Dixon didn't stop him. He was too tired and only wanted the G2 to finish. 'In addition, in the two cases where prisoners have been taken by the Mexicans, the International Red Cross had the full name, rank, and Social Security number of the prisoners within twenty-four hours.'
In his own roundabout way, the G2 was preparing to make a point, a point that Dixon wished he would get to. 'Okay, so this ambush isn't like the others. What's it mean?'
A smile lit across the G2's face. 'The Mexican Army didn't ambush the MPs or Lewis. Their story that they don't know anything about the ambushes, and the one being put out by the government, is true. They didn't do it.'
Dixon shook his head. 'Okay, you've lost me. Seems like the info about the weapons being left behind is all very nice, but doesn't mean much by itself. Anyone can make a mistake. Hell, I got two weeks' worth of duty log that will prove that.'
The G2 held out a small folder with yellow top secret cover sheets.
'That Mexican we found at the MP checkpoint that was hit came to last night long enough for our people to interrogate him.'
Dixon, wide awake now, sat up. 'And?'
'Well, what he said, by itself, didn't make a whole lot of sense. Most of what he gave us was gibberish. He's in really bad shape, you see.
Doctors say he should have died. But that's not important right now.
What is important is that the little info he gave us, combined with other bits and pieces, like the fact that no weapons were taken from either site, adds up.'
Dixon was becoming impatient. The G2 was beginning to ramble.
'Adds up to what?'
Not to be rushed, the G2 used his fingers as he enumerated his points.
'First off, he's not a Mexican. In fact, he's not even working for the Mexican government. That we know. As it turns out, he's a Colombian mercenary. The CIA confirmed that a few hours ago. Seems he's working for some drug lord he kept.calling El Dueno, that's Spanish for 'manager.'
We're not sure why he's called that, but right now, that's unimportant.'
Dixon threw his hands up. 'Look, I'm beat. Could you please tell me what is important?'
The G2 looked around to see who was in the room. Then he pushed the folder a little closer to Dixon. 'I can't tell you. Not in here. It's classified, special compartmented information. You can either read this or come over to my shop and I'll brief you on what we think this Dueno dude's been managing.' After Dixon took the folder, the G2, unable to restrain himself, added, 'If half the shit that's in there turns out to be true, our fearless leader in the White House and half the CIA's staff better find themselves new jobs.'
With their meeting coming to an end, Molina turned to Barreda. 'Then we are agreed, Felipe. Your actions must be timed so as to ensure that Colonel Guajardo will have achieved everything that he can. Do you see a problem with that?'
Barreda shook his head. 'No, there is no problem from our side. The problem all hinges on what the commander of the American 16th Armored Division decides to do. I will be prepared to go either way. If the American does not agree to the meeting that Alfredo is trying to set up, or if they run to their government after the meeting and drop the matter into their State Department's hands, then I will contact the American charge d'affaires and give him everything we have. If, on the other hand, the American division commander agrees to cooperate with Alfredo, then I wait to meet with the charge d'affaires until seven am on the twentieth.'
Closing his eyes, Molina nodded. 'Things will go better for you, Felipe, and for us, if we are able to point to a success.'
'As Alfredo and I have pointed out, Carlos, that depends upon the Americans themselves.'
Opening his eyes, Molina turned to Guajardo. 'Is there no way to go in and destroy the mercenaries' base and free the American hostages ourselves? Must we depend on the Americans?'
