Read The Devil's Footprint Online
Authors: Victor O'Reilly
The Devil's Footprint (28 page)
"And what is the bottom line, Mr. Director," said the
President.
"We have an unapproved flight going out to a tanker in international
waters, Mr. President.
The tanker is
Liberian-registered but is actually on charter to Tecuno Gas and Oil.
Its next stop was
We asked Governor Quintana's people, and they
said they would have the vessel examined when it docked."
"And?" said the President.
"Nothing," said the FBI Director.
A question hovered unspoken.
It was one issue that he and Security Advisor
Vernon agreed on spontaneously.
but it was a fast-evolving nation of 87 million people and it was not in the
interest to treat them as some kind of banana republic.
The sovereignty and dignity of
It was in that spirit that he had issued
National Security Executive Order FA/128 after that disastrous
special-operations mission against the so-called Gulf Drug Cartel.
forbidden to mount any operation — covert or otherwise — that had not been
pre-agreed with the Mexican government.
Fundamentally, the Mexicans would have to put their own house in order.
It was, after all,
their
house.
Nonetheless.
"Mr. President," said Slade.
"The American people are exceedingly disturbed by our apparent
inability to deal satisfactorily with these terrorists.
We have to do something."
The President nodded gloomily.
He
did not need to be reminded of the decrease in his popularity.
When he had been a TV anchor he had lived and
died by his rating.
He read the latest
polls before he listened to his CIA-prepared daily intelligence briefing.
They were not good.
"What exactly do you propose,
"Perhaps we don't know the terrorist's base, Mr. President,"
said Slade, "but we don know where some of them trained.
Accordingly, I recommend military action
against known fundamentalist targets.
It
will send a clear message and it will release much of this voter
frustration.
It will also demonstrate
the decisiveness of this administration.
Questions are being asked at present about our apparent lack of resolve."
Several of the group looked uncomfortable, while others concealed their
feelings.
Either way, there was a
general air of embarrassment in the room.
The headline above the morning's
Washington
Post
editorial was fresh in their minds.
"Falling Down on the Job Again" was the precursor of a piece
that had not been kind.
The presidency of
trouble.
The National Security Advisor
was right.
Some kind of offensive
against these people was essential.
"We know where many of these people train," said the Deputy
Director of the CIA.
"We know the
countries and we know the locations of the individual camps.
We have all the intelligence we need to
strike tomorrow, from satellite photographs to agents-in-place.
But there are always other political
considerations which cancel out these advantages.
All of these places actively support
terrorists and actions specifically directed against the
And there are more countries I could name,
starting with
It's a long list."
"We can't hit
said the Secretary of State, "because we want to the moderates to succeed
and we do not want public opinion to be polarized against this country.
We have already hit
may well have cost us Pan Am 103.
We're
trying to bring
the
encouraging.
As to
world opinion, and we need even them as a counterbalance to
"Which leaves
said Vernon V. Slade.
"They have
got fundamentalist training camps.
No
one gives a fuck about
"It is within both
and
influence," said the Secretary of State, "and
ex-colonial power, still regards itself as a player.
In contrast,
attacked the camps, but they will expect to be informed first.
Further, the U.N.
are
in
have forces near potential targets.
There are Irish and Scandinavian troops there, among others.
It is not that simple."
Whoever had thought of invading
All that flexing of
military muscle against an enemy who practically did not exist and a country
that no one had heard of.
The debate continued acrimoniously for another forty-five minutes.
Finally, the voices petered out and all heads
turned toward the President.
"It is your call, Mr. President," said Vernon V. Slade.
"Give us a clear mission," Mr. President," said the
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, "and I promise you that the United
States Armed Forces can do the job."
We are the most powerful nation on
earth
, thought the Deputy Director of the CIA,
but we have rendered ourselves impotent
.
"Mr. Deputy Director," said the President.
"I noticed a decided reaction from you
when the Mexican state of Tecuno and Governor Diego Quintana was
mentioned."
"It's a complex situation, Mr. President," said Martin
uncomfortably.
"That's why we have the CIA," said the President unkindly.
"You are there to help us simple folks
unravel the knots."
"Can of worms in this case, Mr. President," said Martin.
His conversation with Kilmara was still on
his mind.
He decided to go for it.
"Frankly, what we think and what the
administration wants are at loggerheads.
You want harmony with
and meanwhile some bad people based in Tecuno are fucking with us."
"You have proof?" said the President.
"Clear proof that would justify an overt
intervention, or at least an approach to the Mexican government?"
"No, sir," said Martin.
"And unfortunately Governor Quintana is part of the Mexican
government.
He is secretary of the
PRI."
"You think Tecuno is a haven for these people?" said the
President.
"That's the way it looks," said Martin.
"Well, if we can't go in the front door," said the President,
"maybe there's a window we can sneak through.
Any ideas, Mr.
Martin?"
"There's the Irishman called Hugo Fitzduane," said Martin.
"The man whose wife
was kidnapped."
"Does he have any connection with this Task Force on
Terrorism?" said the President, "and that terrible business in the
"Yes, sir," said the Deputy Director.
"He seems to have a nose for trouble," said the President.
"I take it you are suggesting we help
him point it."
"Unofficially, Mr. President."
"And if he brings back proof," said the President.
"We go in and we take them out," said General Frampton.
"A maximum
effort."
"Just like that,
General
?" said the
President.
"Just like that, sir," said General Frampton.
"I was in
I stood in the blood.
"This is war, sir, and we've got to defend ourselves."
*
*
*
*
*
"Why did we invade
said the FBI Director as they left the meeting.
"I've never quite understood."
"For the same underlying reason that terrorists are active against
this country," said the Deputy Director of the CIA.
"I don't understand," said the FBI Director.
"Because we could," said William Martin.
"Because they
can."
Book Two
Counterterror
10
The Humvee ground its way over the dirt road of
If you wanted to test and lobby for a weapon, this was the place to
be.
It was far from the only place to
prove out instruments of death and destruction, but it was conveniently near
The vehicle crashed into yet another pothole, and its massive suspension
took the imposition in its stride.
Kilmara's back was not so tolerant.
General Shane Kilmara was not overly fond of the U.S. Army's replacement
for the jeep.
He considered it too slow,
too heavy, too noisy, too hard to maintain, and far too uncomfortable at his
stage in life — but since it was on loan from the U.S. Army complete with
driver, he was not complaining.
Someone with clout was backing Fitzduane's little
enterprise,
and all Kilmara could do was speculate a little and give thanks.
Cochrane had muttered jokingly about guardian
angels.
Kilmara had been networking on
the international special-forces circuit for a long time, and he did not think
angels had anything to do with it.
"Sir, we're here," said the driver, halting the vehicle and
applying the brake.
She was about
twenty-two, and her crisp BDUs bore sergeant's stripes and airborne
insignia.
Kilmara was all for having
women in the armed forces if they looked like this.
That was probably a sexist thought, but a man
needed some variety from leathery sergeants.
"Sir, what are we looking for?"
"Dilger's Baby," said Kilmara absentmindedly.
"Sir, this is a weapons range," said the sergeant.
"I surely hope so," said Kilmara.
He smiled.
"Or we're in deep diddly."
He brought the field glasses up to his eyes.
They had been given a map reference to drive
to and not much explanation.
He had been
told to look, and he was looking.
He saw lots of land that looked as if things had exploded in it, on it,
and over it rather too often, and not much else except armored vehicle track
marks.
There was not much cover.
There were shell holes and the terrain
undulated, but there were no bushes or trees or convenient dry stone walls to
hide behind.
This ground had been worked
over.
Yet, if he had been informed correctly and if the crisp sergeant had
navigated right, Fitzduane and Guntrack were within a few hundred meters of
where he stood.
Kilmara searched by quadrant.
Still nothing.
He
gave the binoculars to the keen-eyed young sergeant.
"Look for a wedge-front tracked
vehicle," he said, "probably under camouflage within, say, four
hundred meters or so of here."