plane and a pilot to fly the crew into this location. It’ll have to be a sea plane, something that can land on this lake.”
“Why not parachute?” Dutton asked.
Faust shook his head. “They’ll be picked off like fish in a barrel. Plus, there’s very little open space near the target zone. You’ll want to use something familiar to the area. A helicopter is a red flag. A small plane flying at low altitude is a commonplace occurrence. Drug runners fly past this region all day long. They wouldn’t give it a second look.”
“I agree,” Walt said. “Let’s keep it clandestine as long as possible.”
“There’s not much time. Do you want me to arrange it?” Faust asked.
Walt and Dutton exchanged glances.
“What?” Faust asked.
It made sense that the only Marine in the room would take on the true reason the FBI had been allocated the lead on the assignment. Riggs said, “On the most recent report Ken sent the president about Colombia, he stated that President Santoro hated Pablo Moreno. They were supposedly sworn enemies. The report claimed that one of your high-level operatives substantiated this finding.”
Walt could tell that Faust saw it coming. He also knew that Faust wasn’t dumb enough to look too prepared. It was almost an admission of guilt. Instead, the assistant director of the CIA did what most high-ranking officials do when their integrity was being questioned. Find the fall guy.
“I know,” Faust said with regret on his face. “This operative has been contacted and will be debriefed. We need to know where he got the bogus information.”
“No,” Walt said, suddenly sensing an opportunity. “Why don’t we give the operative some disinformation? Send him a coded message. Tell him the US government will not be sending a rescue squad to Colombia. We’ve decided to use the diplomatic approach. President Merrick will lead the entourage himself.”
Riggs nodded. “I like it. Maybe take the pressure off these guys. Divert their attention to the president’s trip instead.”
Faust shook his head in disbelief. “You’re kidding yourself if you think a presidential visit will allow these guys to sneak into the Amazon, find the president’s brother, then rescue him from the Camenos. With what? Four or five guys? That can’t be realistic. Whose idea was this?”
Faust looked around to find no one making eye contact with him.
Finally, Riggs turned to him and said, “President Merrick is the one who mandated this mission.”
Faust pursed his lips. “Well, shit, Marty. It’s a bad idea, and you know it.”
They all stared at the computer images in silence as they tried to digest the degree of difficulty they’d just condemned a couple of hard working agents to.
Walt examined the Amazon jungle with its tightly woven tree trunks and integrated undergrowth and came up with the question that no one had even thought to discuss.
“We need an exit strategy,” Walt said.
“What’s the point?” Faust replied, sardonically. “They’ll all be dead within a couple of hours.”
Walt had placated the guy long enough. He put his tablet down on the coffee table and stood over Faust with his six-foot-four frame and glared. “He’s the Commander-in-Chief, Jeff. We follow his instructions. It’s our job to make sure they work. Now, either you help us execute a plan or get the fuck out of my office.”
Faust must’ve seen how Riggs and Dutton were looking at him, just waiting for him to show a sliver of defiance. He looked up at the monitor. “Okay, first of all, how do we know he’s even in the jungle? He could be in Medellin where the Camenos headquarters are located. ”
“Tendencies,” Walt said. “Our analysts evaluated the Camenos method of operation and discovered they have a specific system for their kidnappings. They keep the victim in one of their small camps in the rainforest, away from city. It makes it difficult to find and even more challenging to stealthily
“Why not parachute?” Dutton asked.
Faust shook his head. “They’ll be picked off like fish in a barrel. Plus, there’s very little open space near the target zone. You’ll want to use something familiar to the area. A helicopter is a red flag. A small plane flying at low altitude is a commonplace occurrence. Drug runners fly past this region all day long. They wouldn’t give it a second look.”
“I agree,” Walt said. “Let’s keep it clandestine as long as possible.”
“There’s not much time. Do you want me to arrange it?” Faust asked.
Walt and Dutton exchanged glances.
“What?” Faust asked.
It made sense that the only Marine in the room would take on the true reason the FBI had been allocated the lead on the assignment. Riggs said, “On the most recent report Ken sent the president about Colombia, he stated that President Santoro hated Pablo Moreno. They were supposedly sworn enemies. The report claimed that one of your high-level operatives substantiated this finding.”
Walt could tell that Faust saw it coming. He also knew that Faust wasn’t dumb enough to look too prepared. It was almost an admission of guilt. Instead, the assistant director of the CIA did what most high-ranking officials do when their integrity was being questioned. Find the fall guy.
“I know,” Faust said with regret on his face. “This operative has been contacted and will be debriefed. We need to know where he got the bogus information.”
“No,” Walt said, suddenly sensing an opportunity. “Why don’t we give the operative some disinformation? Send him a coded message. Tell him the US government will not be sending a rescue squad to Colombia. We’ve decided to use the diplomatic approach. President Merrick will lead the entourage himself.”
Riggs nodded. “I like it. Maybe take the pressure off these guys. Divert their attention to the president’s trip instead.”
Faust shook his head in disbelief. “You’re kidding yourself if you think a presidential visit will allow these guys to sneak into the Amazon, find the president’s brother, then rescue him from the Camenos. With what? Four or five guys? That can’t be realistic. Whose idea was this?”
Faust looked around to find no one making eye contact with him.
Finally, Riggs turned to him and said, “President Merrick is the one who mandated this mission.”
Faust pursed his lips. “Well, shit, Marty. It’s a bad idea, and you know it.”
They all stared at the computer images in silence as they tried to digest the degree of difficulty they’d just condemned a couple of hard working agents to.
Walt examined the Amazon jungle with its tightly woven tree trunks and integrated undergrowth and came up with the question that no one had even thought to discuss.
“We need an exit strategy,” Walt said.
“What’s the point?” Faust replied, sardonically. “They’ll all be dead within a couple of hours.”
Walt had placated the guy long enough. He put his tablet down on the coffee table and stood over Faust with his six-foot-four frame and glared. “He’s the Commander-in-Chief, Jeff. We follow his instructions. It’s our job to make sure they work. Now, either you help us execute a plan or get the fuck out of my office.”
Faust must’ve seen how Riggs and Dutton were looking at him, just waiting for him to show a sliver of defiance. He looked up at the monitor. “Okay, first of all, how do we know he’s even in the jungle? He could be in Medellin where the Camenos headquarters are located. ”
“Tendencies,” Walt said. “Our analysts evaluated the Camenos method of operation and discovered they have a specific system for their kidnappings. They keep the victim in one of their small camps in the rainforest, away from city. It makes it difficult to find and even more challenging to stealthily
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