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Project Reaper Page 19

by M. W. Fletcher


  What really vexed him; was the conviction had to be obtained using lies and deception; however he was not about to put his family at jeopardy.

  Lucena decided to follow the Presidents advice and leave well alone.

  President Lucena looked over at his Vice President

  and replied, “What do you know about the André Sinaloa

  trial?”

  “Dear President did you think you were the only one privy to the facts around your star witness Marco López Covas.”

  “I do not know what you are referring to,” replied the President.”

  “Oh I think you do sir, may I remind you that Covas is still alive and living in anonymity, it would not take much to persuade him to tell of his subterfuge in the trail; along with persuading him to tell of your involvement.”

  “Are you trying to blackmail me José?”

  “Sir all I want is to be kept abreast of what’s going on, is that too much to ask?”

  The President thought for a few moments, what harm it could do to let his Vice President in on the information.

  “Okay José; I will let you know what is going on, however I must have you word that it will go no further than the two of us.”

  The Vice president returned to his chair, “You have my word sir,” replied José.

  The President spent the next ten minutes going over his conversation with the British Prime Minister, when he finished José spoke.

  “Sir; is this a wise move for us?”

  “I look at it this way José, we are in a win, win

  situation, if everything goes well we will be rid of a bad man and if it does not we cannot be implicated as our people were not involved.”

  “Thank you for your candour sir, you can rely on me in this matter.”

  The Vice president made to get up when the president spoke, “José; I hope from now on we can forget everything to do with the Sinaloa trial, and put it behind us. I don’t think it would be wise for either of us to allow what transpired to come out, do you?”

  “I agree sir, as far as I am concerned it is a dead issue, thank you for your time sir.”

  Vice president José Pablo Valera left the room.

  The President reflected on their discussion and decided to put no more thought to the matter, he would leave it to the British now.

  HMS Ark Royal

  Lago de Maracaibo

  Venezuela

  Lat = 9 degrees, 48.1 minutes North

  Long = 71 degrees, 31.5 minutes West

  Wednesday 4th January 1989

  Fifteen forty hundred hours

  Five hours behind GMT

  Schematics of the Verdugo Hacienda

  The OSC teams had reconvened after their short break and Max Storm was ready to begin his briefing on the second part of the operation, he had sketched out the schematics of Verdugo’s Hacienda on the reverse side of the whiteboard, using the Intel that had been provided by

  Sam Winnett and Tony Walters from the meeting at Downing Street on Thursday 29th December 1988.

  Max waited a few moments for everyone to settle down before beginning, It might have appeared strange that teams not involved in this mission were also present; however Max believed everyone involved needed the full overview in case of last minute changes to Intel.

  “As I stated earlier the raid on the Hacienda will be

  conducted by team one and led by Roy Smith (eagle four).

  Max again utilised his pointer, “this here is the surrounding perimeter wall approximately nine feet high, the whole perimeter inside is covered with trees, there are two outer buildings here and here, to the east and west side of the long driveway, about three-hundred yards from the main building here at the end of the circular drive. The swimming pool here is at the back of the main building, there is only one road to the Hacienda running here from the south and ending about half a mile past the property.

  Max paused and picked up a nearby bottle of water and took a mouthful before continuing.

  “The insertion point by helicopter is here a large open area of grass land, one mile to the south east; it will also serve both as the FRP & ERP, the terrain to the Hacienda is mainly a mixture of grass land and woodland that should be enough to offer you cover to the target area.

  Max handed out photocopies of a man’s face. “This is Toledo Verdugo, he must be killed, you will probably have two options for this, option one is a distance kill from a sniper if you can locate him, and the other is entering the house and finding him. As soon as we attack the warehouse, wait five minutes before you move on Verdugo.

  Our usual protocols for a situation like this where

  civilians are likely to be present will be maintained, only combatants are to be engaged, non-combatants are not

  to be engaged, I don’t have to remind you that we are

  Professionals, once at the hacienda TOT is forty five minutes.”

  Max took another gulp of water, “okay everyone let’s synchronise watches; on my mark.”

  Everyone in the team quickly moved their respective hands to their watches, waiting for Max’s instruction.

  “Ready on my mark; it is now fifteen forty-nine hours exactly.”

  Each team member synchronised his watch.

  “Before I give you our mission times, are there any questions from the team one on the Hacienda mission?”

  The room remained silent, Max continued, “we leave here at twenty-one thirty hours local time, I want full weapons and equipment prep by nineteen hundred hours, that’s all, dismissed.”

  La Rosa

  Vice President José Pablo Valera’s Beachfront home

  Puerto Cabello

  Fifty-three miles west of Caracas

  Venezuela.

  Wednesday 4th January 1989

  Eighteen twenty hours

  Five hours behind GMT

  After his meeting with the President, the Vice President had been held up at the Presidential Palace dealing with issues of state that he could not ignore.

  He had thought about making his call to Toledo Verdugo from his office, but had decided not to; there was always the possibility of someone listening in.

  He finally managed to escape at seventeen hundred hours. Dismissing his driver for the day, he took the limousine to drive himself; fighting his way out of the busy city traffic, the fifty-three mile journey to his beachfront home; taking an hour and ten minutes.

  His family were at his main residence in Puerto Cabello a ten-minute drive away. José poured himself

  a large whiskey before making the phone call to Verdugo.

  He dialled the number and waited, he was answered after five rings by one of Verdugo’s house staff, “Verdugo Hacienda, how may I help you.”

  “This is José; senior Verdugo is expecting my call.”

  “One moment I will transfer you to him.”

  The line appeared to go dead for a few moments before a voice spoke, “Senior Valera; I am glad you could call me back.”

  The Vice president replied, “Senior Verdugo I have the information you requested.”

  “Well my good friend; tell me what you have discovered?”

  “It would appear that your suspicions were valid, the British are due to mount a mission to rescue the Professor. The President stated that this would be done within thirty-six hours and that was around ten pm last evening.”

  “José did the President give you any specifics about how the rescue would be implemented?”

  “No Senior Verdugo; I believe he was only privy to the basics I have just given you.”

  “You have done well José; I will ensure you receive a little extra this month.”

  “Thank you senior Verdugo.”

  Wi
th that, both men terminated the call.

  Verdugo Hacienda

  Bucaramanga Colombia

  Lat = 7 degrees, 8.3 minutes North

  Long = 73 degrees, 6.1 minutes West

  Wednesday 4th January 1989

  Eighteen thirty hour’s local time.

  Five hours behind GMT

  Ramón was in the room listening in on the one sided conversation, after the earlier call placed to the Vice President, he had decided to stay at the Hacienda until the Vice President called back.

  Toledo Verdugo had replaced the phone and turned to face Ramón, “well Ramón; the British are coming to rescue the Professor,” Verdugo looked at his expensive Rolex watch showing the time as eighteen thirty hours.

  “If what José says is correct we can expect the rescue attempt to take place within the next sixteen hours.”

  “Senior; how do you wish me to deal with this,” replied

  Ramón.

  “How many men have you up at the warehouse?”

  “Twenty and all armed senior.”

  “Not enough Ramón, how many men does Juan Manuel have?”

  “A good dozen senior.”

  “Make the call Ramón, brief him over the phone and have him and his men go to the warehouse immediately, and when you have finished the call this is what I want you to do about the Professor.”

  Toledo Verdugo then spent a few minutes explaining his plan to Ramón.

  “Leave it all to me Senior Verdugo; it will happen as you have said.”

  Carrera 32

  San Alonso Neighbourhood of Bucaramanga Colombia

  Lat = 7 degrees, 8.0 minutes North

  Long = 73 degrees, 6.8 minutes West

  Wednesday 4th January 1989

  Eighteen forty-two hour’s local time.

  Five hours behind GMT

  Juan Manuel Alvarez had grown up in a very rough part of San Alonso; he was thirty-four years of age and one of Toledo’s top enforcers.

  His job was to ensure that people paid up on time and to protect drug shipments, he was sitting on the balcony of his two-bedroom apartment sipping a cold bottle of beer when he heard the phone ringing.

  He did not intend to move, knowing his current girlfriend

  Marisol would answer it for him; she walked out onto the balcony with the phone; he loved looking at her lithe body, her raven black hair and dark brown large eyes.

  Marisol was only twenty years of age she had been his woman for the past six months.

  Marisol handed the phone to him, “its Ramón darling.”

  Ramón and Juan Manuel went back ten years; it was Ramón whom had brought him into the Verdugo drug cartel eight years ago.

  Juan Manuel when he was in his teenage years was what you could call a bruiser, taking any opportunity or excuse to start a fight.

  In the early years, he lost many of them; however, he was an exceptionally fast learner in the art of fighting and soon he commanded a vast amount of respect from his peers, even the ones that were older than he was, many of which he had beaten.

  Juan Manuel loved to fight; he had in fact found the one thing in life that he was extremely talented at; he was not of an exceptionally large build, however his body was all sinewy muscle.

  He had a rugged look that the women liked and he knew it along with a slightly disjointed nose.

  Juan Manuel took the phone and spoke, “Ramón my friend how are you.”

  “Very well Juan, how has today been for you?”

  “The usual Ramón, a few heads needed banging together, all part of a day’s work, is there something I can do for you?”

  “I need you and your men to go to our warehouse up in Rio Negro immediately; we are expecting an imminent attack

  from a British forces unit, how long will it take you and

  your men to get there?”

  Juan Manuel looked at his watch and replied, “We can be there within the hour Ramón.”

  “Good I will meet you there and I will fill you in on the details when you arrive.”

  Juan Manuel handed the phone back to Marisol and looked up at her, “we won’t be going out tonight, I have some business to take care of.”

  “What time might you be back Juan?”

  “No idea.”

  “I’ll keep the bed warm for you darling.”

  As she turned away, Juan gave her bum a quick squeeze.

  Marisol gave out a delightful squeal.

  Juan Manuel new exactly where his men would be at this time of the day, it would take him no more than five minutes to walk to the bar they frequented.

  He walked into Pedro’s bar and found the ten men sipping beers and chatting up the local women, he stood just inside the door for a few moments before one of them noticed him.

  He gave a nod of the head and a few minutes later, they were all loaded into three pickup vehicles heading to San Negro.

  ‘ICIS’ Saltbox Hill Biggin Hill Kent

  Lat = 51 degrees, 19.7 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 1.2 minutes East

  Wednesday 4th January 1989

  Zero-one hundred hours GMT.

  Mick Strayker had arrived at ICIS thirty minutes ago, having spoken to Max an hour ago for a SITREP.

  He was in the newly built situation room two floors below ground level, GAIL’s hologram was glowing in the centre of the room and on the large screen was a satellite image.

  Vince Edwards entered the room with two mugs of strong coffee and handed one to Strayker, “thank you Vince; I hope you have plenty brewing, this could be along night.”

  “More than enough Major,” replied Vince.

  “So Vince; what’s happening on the ground?”

  Vince stood up and walked over to the satellite image, “GAIL, an update please.”

  “Gentlemen local time is twenty hundred hours, nothing much has happened until fifteen minutes ago when three

  Vehicles arrived,” GAIL changed the live feed to a recorded image and adjusted the satellite image, zooming in to two-hundred feet.

  “This was the arrival of the vehicles, as you can see a number of people were on board, I counted eleven, they are all armed.”

  Vince turned towards Strayker, “looks like reinforcements sir.”

  “Now why would they be doing that, unless they were expecting trouble?”

  GAIL spoke, “Sir Vince has had me monitoring all the communications at the Presidential palace, and nothing has indicated a security breach.”

  “Still; my gut feeling is tending towards treachery,” replied Strayker.

  Strayker looked at his watch; Zero-one hundred hours and ten minutes, GAIL patch me through to Max now.”

  GAIL replied, “One moment sir.”

  HMS Ark Royal

  Lago de Maracaibo

  Venezuela

  Lat = 9 degrees, 48.1 minutes North

  Long = 71 degrees, 31.5 minutes West

  Wednesday 4th January 1989

  Twenty hundred hours and fifteen minutes

  Five hours behind GMT

  Max had been called over to the makeshift Comm’s unit that had been set up by the Royal Signal Corps people, on the same deck the OSC were operating from; he was now wearing the OSC’s unique assault camouflage uniform.

  Corporal Hardwick handed the handset to Max, “sir it’s Major Strayker for you.”

  Max acknowledged the Corporal with a nod and spoke into the handset, “Max here sir.”

  “Max I am at ICIS and GAIL has been monitoring the San Negro site; around twenty minutes ago three vehicles arrived with eleven armed men.”

  “That sounds like reinforcements sir.”

  “Our thoughts exactly Max, however G
AIL has been

  monitoring the communications at the Presidential palace,

  and nothing has indicated a security breach.”

  “Okay sir, the reinforcements just mean I need a trip to the ship’s armourer to address the balance.”

  “I will be staying here until the operation has been concluded Max.”

  Max spoke, “Any changes at Verdugo’s Hacienda, GAIL?”

  “One moment Max I just need to recalibrate the satellite, GAIL paused for several seconds before coming back on the Comms.

  “At the moment everything looks as it was earlier Max, I will check on the recorded stored information and advise you Max.”

  “Thank you GAIL, now I’ll go pay the armourer a visit.”

  Max handed the handset back to Corporal Hardwick and walked over to Roy Smith.

  “Roy accompany me to the armourer.”

  “Is there a problem Max?”

  “I’ll explain as we walk Roy.”

  Roy walked with Max.

  “I have just had an update from ICIS Roy; it would appear that reinforcements have arrived at the Professor’s location.”

  “Someone talked Max?”

  “That’s hard to say Roy; GAIL has confirmed nothing has

  come out of the Presidential Palace.”

  “Right; I see the reason behind visiting the armourer, you want to redress the balance Max.”

  “Exactly Roy.”

  The two men made their way to the Armourers room on the middle deck; it was a large room with ample storage and stacking systems.

  As they entered, a Sergeant was stripping down a weapon he looked up and noticed the insignia on Max’s lapels a crown above a pip, he immediately stood up, “how can I help you sir?”

  “Sergeant; I need some additional firepower in the shape of two M-249 Squad Automatic Weapons.”

  “Certainly sir, we carry that model in stock, I’ll bring one to you know.”

  “Thank you Sergeant,” replied Max.

  The Sergeant walked into the store area, turned left down an aisle to locate the M-249 SAW’s.

 

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