That meant either that his primary target, Alaman, was not at Chinampas, which Guajardo thought highly unlikely, or that he was now sitting safely somewhere in the barracks building obscured by the whiffs of smoke that drifted across the courtyard. Regardless, Guajardo knew his troops needed to end the fight quickly, or find some way of keeping Alaman's people from reaching the airfield.
Otherwise, the success of the entire operation would be in jeopardy.
At the other side of the window, with his back against the wall, Caso carefully looked down into the courtyard while Guajardo searched for a solution. 'As you can see, we are, as the Americans would say, at a Mexican stand- off, sir.'
Guajardo didn't care for Caso's attempt at humor at a time like this.
But he said nothing, for he knew Caso was right — and there were far more important matters to be dealt with. His mind was already busy seeking a solution for the problem they faced.
The defenders of Chinampas were in a very strong position and, without Group N at the airfield to the east, they had an escape route. With the helicopters already clear of Chinampas and en route to their rally point, Guajardo had only the men of the assault force available to do whatever needed to be done in order to find and kill Alaman. Direct assault was out. Such an effort would be too costly, and he didn't have enough men for a human- wave attack. The methodical approach was out. Too slow.
Closing his eyes, Guajardo created an image of Chinampas and the area around it in his mind. Blocking out all other thoughts, he forced himself to concentrate on that image, seeking a solution.
A young engineer lieutenant, the commander of Group Z, came running into the room where Guajardo and Caso were. Seeing the colonel and the major at the window, he began to head straight for them. He paused, however, when he noticed his path was blocked by a body lying in the center of the floor. The flowing satin and lace of the young woman's nightgown was stained by blotches of blood that seeped from multiple gunshot wounds and soaked up by a vast pool of blood that surrounded the woman's torso.
Though appalled by the sight, the engineer lieutenant stood there for a moment transfixed as he studied, with a macabre fascination, the body of the tall, thin woman with boyish features. Only after Caso, turning to see who had entered the room, warned the lieutenant to stay clear of the window, did the engineer lieutenant move. Pulling himself away from the heap of body, satin, lace, and blood in the center of the room, the lieutenant came up next to Caso, carefully avoiding the open window. 'Sir, I am here to report to Colonel Guajardo on our situation.'
'The colonel is busy right now. Give me your report.'
Looking over at Guajardo, the lieutenant wondered what the colonel could possibly be doing with his eyes closed. It looked as if he were asleep. Since he was a senior officer, and the lieutenant still did not understand the ways of senior officers, he ignored the colonel and rendered his report to Caso.
'Towers one, five, and six are secured. We lost one sergeant dead as well as an officer and a sapper wounded in taking them. Team Z-2 was wiped out to a man when the helicopter crashed into tower two. I have myself, one other officer, two sergeants, and eight sappers left.' The lieutenant's voice was slightly hoarse but controlled.
Caso nodded his approval, noticing that, as he spoke, the lieutenant could not help himself as he glanced back at the body in the center of the floor. 'This is your first action, Lieutenant. You will soon grow used to such sights.'
The lieutenant of engineers looked at the body, then back at Caso.
Closing his eyes as he nodded, the lieutenant indicated that he was all right, wondering if he, or anyone, could really become accustomed to such sights. Opening his eyes, he probed the major's, trying to see if Caso himself believed what he said. Caso's stare, however, betrayed nothing. 'Yes, sir. I, I've never really seen anything like that.' He looked back one more time at the body in white behind them. 'It seems a shame, such a beautiful woman should die like that.'
Case restrained his laughter. 'Wastage, yes, but unavoidable. Our task was to clear the building quickly and completely. 'She,' unfortunately, simply found herself in the line of fire. It could not be helped.' He paused, looked from the body back to the engineer lieutenant, and then shot back: 'Status of demolitions?'
'Excellent. We used only one satchel charge in each tower to gain access. All doors and gates in the towers were open. The guards had not had time to close them.'
Suddenly Guajardo, without opening his eyes, called out. 'Did you capture any machine guns in the towers?'
Turning from Caso to the colonel, the lieutenant responded that they had. There had been two American 7.62mm machine guns in each tower.
All were still operational.
'Do you think your men could work them, Lieutenant?' Guajardo asked, his eyes still closed.
With the confidence of a young officer who believes in himself and his men, the engineer lieutenant responded to Guajardo's inquiry in a manner that bordered on being boastful. 'Yes, we can. The sergeants took them right off and checked that out. They are really quite simple weapons to…'
Guajardo, his eyes flying open, turned to the lieutenant, firing orders to him as he did so. 'Have the team from tower one drop down from that tower, with both M-60 machine guns, outside the wall and move toward the north gate. The team from tower six will also drop down outside the wall, take their machine guns, and move to the south gate.'
Looking to Caso, Guajardo continued to issue orders. 'Leave Captain Castro and half of his Group M in the house to keep the mercenaries busy.
You, my friend, will take the rest of Group M, move through the garden, go over the north wall, join the engineers at the north gate, move to the base of tower three, and set up your machine guns to cover the footbridge and airfield from the north. The engineers, if they can, will blow a hole into tower three to gain access. Take the tower if you can.' Guajardo paused, then emphasized his intent. 'Regardless of what happens, set up the machine guns and keep anyone from escaping.'
Caso thought for a minute. 'What about the rollers on the walls?'
'They roll only one way, out. They were meant to keep people out, not in. Your landing may be hard, but you can do it. Any other questions?'
'I assume, Colonel, you will do the same in the south.'
In his excitement, Guajardo had not told his men his complete plan.
'Yes. That is correct. I will send half of Group D with their commander over the south wall to join the engineers from tower six and set up their machine guns at the base of tower four. That should trap Alaman's men.
With the rest of Group D and the engineers in tower five, I shall begin the process of clearing the garage, stable, and barracks, as planned.' Finished, Guajardo looked at Caso, then the lieutenant. 'Do you have any questions?'
Both men shook their heads. 'Good. Now hurry. Time is against us.'
Exhausted from the sudden and unaccustomed exertion, Alaman sat in the corner of a barracks room, forgotten for the moment. Overwhelmed by shock and pain from his rough handling by Childress, El Dueno watched with detached interest the scene before him. It all seemed so unreal, like a nightmare. The sudden and brutal death of his associates before his eyes paled in comparison to the destruction of his beloved Chinampas. Everything that had ever mattered to him was being destroyed, piece by piece, as he sat there, and there was nothing that he could do, nothing.
Across from where Alaman sat, several of the mercenaries, who served as the garrison, took turns firing out into the courtyard and in the direction of the house. The fumes from the firing of their weapons, mixed with the smoke from the burning tower and helicopter, filled the room with a stench that seared Alaman's lungs as he gasped to catch his breath. A few feet away from him, Delapos, his chief of security, and Childress were conferring in English. Though he could only understand half of what they said, with much of the rest drowned out by gunfire, Alaman gathered that they were in agreement that their situation was hopeless and that they needed to escape.
Though he wanted to protest, demanding that they fight for Chinampas, Alaman had neither the physical strength, nor the moral courage, to make such a demand on the armed mercenaries. Although he was confused and stunned, he still had enough common sense to realize that his paid garrison did not possess the same love for
