The Devil's Footprint (41 page)

"I need to know," he said.
 
"Am I going to be picked for the assault group?
 
I've
got to be on it!
"

Fitzduane took his time in replying.
 
"As you well know, Lee, people are picked for assignments such as
this because of their very special qualifications.
 
It's not personal.
 
It's a matter of whether you are right for
the job."

"You haven't answered my question," said Cochrane.

"You were a good soldier, Lee," said Fitzduane, "and
you've kept yourself in exceptional shape.
 
But your military days were a long time ago and military skills atrophy
without practice.
 
Your shooting was not
good for the first couple of days because you were rusty as hell.
 
Now, because you've worked yourself to the
bone, it is vastly improved, but it is still not Delta or SAS or Ranger
standard.
 
Perhaps it could be over time,
but we don't have that luxury.
 
People
are going to be trying to kill us very shortly, and the difference of a
fraction of a second is going to make the difference between life and
death.
 
This is serious shit, Lee.
 
So, as matters stand, I am
not
going to pick you."

Cochrane was silent, stunned.
 
It
was one thing to expect the worst.
 
It
was another to hear it.

Eventually he looked up at Fitzduane and shrugged.
 
"I guess I'd better pack my kit and go
home.
 
I could say shooting isn't the
only thing.
 
I could give you quite an
argument.
 
I could say I deserve to
go.
 
But I get the impression whatever I
say won't make much difference."

"My comments about your shooting skills are merely an illustration,
Lee," said Fitzduane.
 
"I could
move on to communications, heavy weapons,
the
whole
enchilada.
 
And remember one thing — you
asked."

Cochrane laughed bitterly.
 
"Never get yourself into a situation where the other party is
forced to say no.
 
Basic
negotiations skills.
 
You'd think
I would have learned more on the Hill.
 
So what now?"

Fitzduane tossed Cochrane two more cans of beer.
 
"We get a little drunk.
 
We sleep not quite enough.
 
And we go back to work."

Lee looked bemused.
 
"I
thought you said you weren’t picking me."

"We've got enough people to fight without fighting each other,"
said Fitzduane.
 
"So shut up and
drink and listen.
 
I've got an
idea."

 

15

 

Kilmara followed the maneuvers intently.

For the purpose of this preliminary exercise the five Guntracks were not
camouflaged, which made his job a whole lot easier.
 
Also, it was daylight.
 
Movement during the Tecuno mission was
planned to take place entirely at night under stealth conditions.
 
No talking, no lights, camouflaged, silenced
exhausts, thermal signatures minimized, radio silence, anything and everything
that could make a noise muffled, slow speed to keep down dust.

A helicopter suddenly appeared flying low, and then a second behind it
and to the right.
 
A
classic hunter-killer team.

Two Guntracks halted and then shot into reverse before halting
again.
 
Thick smoke filled the air and
obscured them.
 
The remaining three, also
trailing thick smoke, raced in different directions before looping back to hide
in the smoke.
 
The speed of the Guntrack
reactions was extraordinary.

Fitzduane watched the action through a thermal viewer while listening
intently to a radio commentary coming through his earphones.
 
The whole action, including all the resultant
maneuvers, took no more than a minute.

He winced.
 
"Best estimate by
the observers, the helicopters got one of us and we got both of them.
 
Helicopter gunships are our worst
nightmare.
 
When they come in fast and
low like that, there is very little warning.
 
On the other hand, what we are going to be up against in Tecuno is not
so sophisticated and unlikely to be as well trained.
 
And I have got to
say,
thermal is one hell of an edge.
 
We can
see through the smoke, and the combination of the Mag thermal sight on the
Stinger makes for real fast acquisition.
 
But we've got to do better."

"Did you factor in your .50s?" said Kilmara.

"No," said Fitzduane.
 
"They have not come yet, so the
team are
working with what they've got.
 
The
GECALs are due in a couple of days.
 
I'm
kind of curious to see them in action."

"Puff the Magic Dragon, only in a heavier caliber," said
Kilmara.
 
"But the heavier round
makes quite a difference.
 
The way things
are shaping
up,
you are going to be glad to have
them.
 
There is going to be rather more
on your shopping list of objectives than you know."

Fitzduane looked at him.
 
"So
this is not quite a social call, General."

Kilmara shook his head.
 
"Not
quite.
 
Let's head back to base.
 
Jaeger's turned up again and Lamar's been
stirring the pot.
 
They want to ask you a
small favor, seeing as how you'll be in the Tecuno neighborhood."

"We're going into Tecuno very, very hard and we're coming out with
Kathleen," said Fitzduane.
 
"And we are not going to fuck around in the middle.
 
That makes for a nice, clean, simple mission.
 
That's a hard thing to find in these
political days, but that's the way it's going to be."

"Let's go and talk," said Kilmara wearily.
 
"Unfortunately, life is rarely
simple."

 

*
         
*
         
*
         
*
         
*

 

Kathleen was taken aback at who affected she was when he returned.

The civilian footsteps, the brief exchange with the guard, the noisy
opening of the cell door by the guard, and hen its gentle closure by
Rheiman.
 
The sound of
his breathing.
 
He was not a fit
man.
 
The squeak of the
chair frame against the concrete as he sat down.

"Edgar," she said quietly, "I'm glad you came back."

"You can tell?" he said, sounding pleased.
 
"I — I missed you, Kathleen."

This time Kathleen said nothing.
 
She was working on instinct, nothing more.

Rheiman
had
to make a
move.
 
He had to work to earn her favor
without being aware of what he was doing.
 
Eventually, he would not care.
 
But that would be in the future.
 
Right now it was a matter of pulling in a little but not too hard.
 
Keep up the tension on the line.
 
Give him enough room to swim away a little
but not get free.

She smiled.
 
Again she was reminded
of Fitzduane and the lake by the castle where they had fished.
 
He had said the worst thing about fishing was
catching the things.
 
The
peace, the lapping of the water, the beauty of the scenery, the lure of the
hunt.
 
Those were the aspects he
enjoyed.
 
Bu the fished
well like all his class.
 
They were
reared to such things.
 
Kathleen's family
had not been so privileged.
 
Her life had
not been so preordained.
 
There were
things she had to find out for herself.

"It's good to see you smile again," he said.
 
"This time we must really talk and get
to know each other.
 
So you ask the
questions.
 
There must be a great deal
you want to know, and I do so want to help."

"I don't want to upset you, Edgar," said Kathleen.
 
"Last time you were upset, and I don't
want that to happen again."
 
She
laughed slightly.
 
"So you must warn
me, Edgar, if I'm touching on difficult issues."

Rheiman breathed in as if steeling himself.
 
"Go ahead.
 
Ask whatever you like."

"Where am I, Edgar?"

Rheiman told her.

She tried to visualize his words and imagine a map of
Mexico
.
 
Christ!
 
She was in the middle of nowhere, and there were even rumors of trouble
between Tecuno and the central government.
 
The notion of rescue from the outside vanished.
 
She was just too inaccessible, even if anyone
did find out where she was.

She was on her own.
 
This is where
she would die unless she could change her own fate.
 
No one else was going to help.
 
No one!

She felt wave after wave of panic, but fought not to show it.
 
I am
strong and I know!
 
But she did not
know enough.
 
She had to get Rheiman talking
seriously.
 
God knows, he wanted to.

"Why was I taken?" she said.
 
"Why me?
 
How did it happen?"

"There are eight million people in
New York
," said Rheiman.
 
"You go to
New York
knowing no one and suddenly you
meet someone on

Fifth Avenue

whom you were at school with.
 
That's the
way it works.
 
I don't know why or
how.
 
I guess we're all connected in some
weird way we can't comprehend as yet."

"I don't understand, Edgar," said Kathleen.

"Reiko Oshima heads up security here in the Devil's Footprint,"
said Rheiman.
 
"I run the scientific
side of the project.
 
General Luis
Barragan heads up the whole complex, including the nearby military base, and he
reports to his cousin, Governor Diego Quintana.

"Essentially, Quintana is the dictator of a new country.
 
Officially, Tecuno is still part of
Mexico
, but
that is all smoke and mirrors.
 
The
reality is that
Mexico City
's
writ stops at the Tecuno border.
 
You're
in at the beginning of Tecuno's independence, Kathleen, and it may not be the
only part of
Mexico
to break away.
 
Chiapas
is not looking so healthy, and there
are other states with notions.
 
But
Tecuno has oil, and that is buying what is needed to make the move.
 
Weaponry, mercenaries, technology, political
influence in the right places.
 
It's all
there and it's all coming together."

"Why was I kidnapped?" repeated Kathleen.

"Oshima won't speak to me, but she sleeps with General Luis Barragan
and Luis and I get on fine.
 
What I'm
telling you
is
filtered through Luis — but he is not
as savvy as Oshima, so put your own gloss on it."

"Why?" said Kathleen, just a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Governor Quintana wanted my project buttoned up real tight, and he
did not think the locals were capable of doing it.
 
Or maybe he just wanted to give them some competition.
 
Anyway, Reiko Oshima was brought in and she,
in turn, brought in quite a few of her old gang, Yaibo, and a number of other
odds and sods she had picked up in the Middle East — about fifty in all.
 
They are the Praetorian Guard of this little
setup.
 
They guard the center.
 
And I run it.

"Reiko Oshima is a hard-core terrorist.
 
It is no longer important why.
 
That's history.
 
Now she hates the world in general, and she hates
Hugo Fitzduane in particular.
 
Apparently, some years ago she had a boyfriend called the Hangman.
 
Fitzduane tracked down the Hangman and killed
him — and Reiko was down one lover.
 
She
is not the kind of person who forgets.
 
You were involved with Fitzduane at the time, so your picture went up on
her shit list.
 
You're not at the top,
but you are there."

"I'm not entirely with you," said Kathleen.

Rheiman leaned forward.
 
Kathleen
could feel his breath.
 
She could imagine
his gestures as he strove to make his point.
 
"Reiko Oshima survives because she is an immensely capable woman
who has the ability to turn on just enough people to give her the tools she
needs.
 
When I say capable, I don't mean
she is just daring.
 
That is a given.
 
No, I am now talking about basic management
skills.
 
This woman is organized,
structured, disciplined.
 
She knows
logistics.
 
She knows
administration.
 
She knows motivation.