Targets of Revenge by Jeffrey Stephens Page B

from the laboratory. Then, accompanied by his two most trusted men, Alejandro and Jorge, he left for Caracas.
    ————
    In recent years, Adina had spent as little time as possible in the Venezuelan capital. His role in various terrorist activities had made him a marked man, and surfacing in a heavily populated area was not an ideal situation. He actually preferred the controlled environment of his jungle retreat, where all of his needs could be met with minimal risk. There was an added benefit—for so long as he remained a phantom, he reduced the risk of embarrassing the administration he supported, obscuring the connection between his actions and the government at large.
    Now, however, his sanctuary had been violated. Someone had breached his compound and escaped with knowledge of its location and purpose. He was determined to find out who was behind the invasion and to contain the damage. This required a visit to the intelligence facilities that served the Chavez regime.
    His destination was a multilayered building known as El Helicoide, which houses the Servicio Bolivariano de Inteligencia Nacional, more familiarly known as the SEBIN. The architecture is an odd mix of spaceship and cliffside dwellings, the overall impression imposing, and the purposeful effect of intimidation not lost on anyone who has ever been there.
    The impending arrival of Rafael Cabello was communicated well in advance as he traveled a secure and circuitous route, and he was welcomed with appropriate deference and formality when he and his two men finally entered the underground garage beneath the southern face of the building. From there Adina was whisked upstairs in a private elevator to the sixth floor. He was shown to a secure conference room where men at the highest level of this agency had already convened.
    Greetings between the members of this group and their esteemed guest were respectful. Most of them had been acquainted with Adina for many years. Others, who knew him less well, were nevertheless familiar with his exploits and the closeness of his relationship with their president. Once the polite salutations were concluded they sat around the large table and Adina got down to business.
    “I assume you have all been fully briefed on what occurred.”
    They assured him that they had.
    “Then please tell me what, if anything, you have learned so far about this intruder.”
    Gilberto Bargas was a minister in the Chavez regime, the highest-ranking officer in attendance, and an old crony of Adina. “He was an American,” he said.
    Adina frowned. “That much I know from my own men. He spoke with two of them, a guard and a chemist. I thought you were all fully briefed.”
    The minister nodded and said, “Of course,” then looked down at some notes before him. “It appears he was acting alone, at least with respect to this raid.”
    “Meaning what?”
    “He was alone during the invasion. Others helped him escape.”
    This time Adina gave an impatient nod. “Is that it?”
    “We received word through some locals. That night a small aircraft was spotted, flying low over the jungle.”
    “And?”
    “We have already done aerial reconnaissance. These are photographs from a clearing a few miles from your compound.” He reached into a file and handed over several prints. “Our analysts say these are remnants of some sort of glider. That was his method of entry.”
    “I see. So this American crash-landed a glider in the jungle in the middle of the night. Impressive.”
    Bargas held out another group of photos. “We managed to retrieve these shots of a seaplane, taken by one of our spotters, just north of Cabimas. We have enlarged them and have a partial identification of the call numbers. We believe it’s privately owned and kept in Curaçao.”
    “Inquiries are being made?”
    “Yes. Discreetly, of course.”
    “Any results yet?”
    “Unfortunately there is no record of this plane having taken off or landing yesterday. At least