Into the Jungle

by David M. Salkin

  Mackey called out to his team. “Okay boys, on me!” The team sensed the change in his demeanor and trotted over to him immediately.

  “I just received word from Langley that the US Ambassador to Paraguay and his entire staff were assassinated. That means that we’re going to be playing in the jungle for real. This training exercise is over as of right now. We are ordered to proceed downriver ASAP where a seaplane will be waiting to pick us up. That’s all I have for you right now. Everybody hustle up.”

  The team immediately sprang into action, flipping the rafts and filling them with all of their gear, then running them down to the river. The men ignored the large alligator sunning itself on the bank and piled into the raft. Within a few minutes from hanging up the phone, the two rafts were heading downstream at their fastest pace yet.

  Chapter 14

  Eastern Paraguay

  Vega’s men drove quickly out of the city and headed back to the river where their Iranian crew was anchored and waiting for them, greeting them with big smiles. While the crew hadn’t been told anything, the Iranians weren’t stupid, and assumed correctly that these men had carried out the attack that was all over the news.

  They moved quickly down river to where the Iranians had originally picked them up, and the Iranians dropped them all off there again. The Iranians roared off after they had unloaded their passengers, waving and smiling proudly as they disappeared upriver.

  As if by magic, the Guarani warriors began emerging from the woods. They just appeared, without making a sound. Vega’s men had no gear to carry anymore, having used it all in the attack. They had ditched their AK-47s when they left the city in case they were stopped, but no matter, there were plenty more back at Vega’s camp.

  Vega’s men followed the Guaranis back into the jungle, stopping every now and then to send a few Guaranis back down the trail and make sure they weren’t being followed. When they were satisfied that they had gotten away cleanly, they moved quickly through the jungle towards “home.”

  The warriors arrived back in the village, leading their tired terrorists, to the sounds of singing and celebration. The Guarani women and children were playing drums, flutes and primitive instruments, and singing their beautiful songs. Vega walked out of his hut smoking a cigar and smiling. He gave the warriors blankets as gifts to bring home to their families and invited his men back to his hut for rum and smokes.

  Vega expressed his thanks to the abrubicha and left the celebration as the families celebrated being reunited after the five-day trip. The natives would continue their singing and dancing for hours, and it got on Vega’s nerves after a while. His men followed him back to his hut where they drank rum and smoked and filled Vega in on the events of the journey. As the Arabs had promised, it went smoothly. There had been no unpleasant surprises and no one had seen them. No one alive, anyway.

  They finished getting drunk and the discussion turned to the differences between Guarani breasts and the women they knew back home. This led to more graphic discussions, of course, and finally Vega decided his men really did deserve a reward for carrying out the mission as well as they did. He grabbed a bottle of rum, against his better judgment, and decided to go find Kuka to try and arrange a business transaction—a bottle of rum for a half dozen Guarani women for the evening. It was a tricky proposal. Kuka could be funny about that sometimes. While “prostitution” didn’t exist in Guarani culture, the chief did understand the concept of trading, and being a horny old bugger himself, didn’t begrudge Vega for wanting his women. The tricky part was making sure that Kuka was properly compensated. To offer him too little would be a serious insult, and Vega, although always ready to get laid, knew that his business dealings with the Guarani came first. Kuka and his warriors loved getting drunk, but it had led to problems in the past and almost got one of his men killed. This time Vega would be wiser. He had watered down the rum to half-strength.

  Vega told his men to wait in the hut, and set off back to the center of the village where the celebration continued. With a bottle of rum, even watered down, it was about to get a lot rowdier. Vega chuckled out loud as he spotted the chief and began thinking about his present life. It wasn’t bad really, except for the miserable humidity and thick jungle air that was filled with bugs. Kuka might have thought he was the chief, but Vega laughed again as decided he was king of the jungle. Another couple of years of this, and would buy his own island in the Caribbean and live like a real king.

  Chapter 15

  Langley

  Darren Davis and Dex Murphy sat in the situation room with Leah Pereira and a member of her staff. They would be calling Julia Ortiz down in Paraguay later in the day, but had lots to discuss before then.

  They had been drinking coffee and floating out ideas about the insertion of the team for about twenty minutes, but every idea was flawed. Dozens of scenarios were discussed ranging from HALO jumps into the jungle (for which only the SEALs and rangers were qualified) to a baseball game in Brazil or Argentina. As the group “brainstormed” through a dozen more ideas, they kept coming back to Julia in Paraguay.

  Landing openly in Paraguay was out—the Paraguayan government was scared shitless of more terrorist activity, and openly called for the US to get out of the Middle East, as if that was going to end terrorism in the world. They had flatly turned down the US request to send a team of FBI investigators down after the terrorist attack. They told the State Department that they would handle it themselves using their best people and promised that those responsible would be brought to justice. The FBI was outraged, but was told to “stand down” by the president—there were other options being considered. This was now the other option.

  Leah called Julia on her encrypted phone and she picked up right away. The conversation ended up lasting almost an hour. In the end, it was decided to use the team, but scrap the baseball cover story. The timing just didn’t seem right after such a large terrorist attack. Instead, they would get into Paraguay in small groups, pairs or individually as volunteers for Julia’s outreach program with the Guaranis. CIA would make new cover stories, names and documents for the team members. Julia had suggested a church group for moving a larger group in at one time, complete with bad T-Shirts, which actually seemed like a plausible idea.

  For the equipment and weapons, it was a little more complicated. The US carrier fleets were deployed all over the world—except for anywhere near South America. Ideally, they would have transported the gear by plane to a nearby aircraft carrier for transfer to a sub that could ferry the weapons and ammo for an offshore handoff. With no carriers in the area, they would instead have to fly to a point off the coast of Brazil and drop the gear into the ocean, where a waiting sub would pick it up and then sneak in closer to shore where it could be transferred to the team. Which would have been fine if the target was in eastern Brazil instead of Paraguay. A river trip with a boatload of high-tech spy equipment and weapons was not plausible. Back to square one.

  Julia piped up from her end, sounding like the chipper young lady she was, “I get two shipments in a month, minimum, depending on funding. Connex containers come in from Santos. With seventy million tons of freight coming in every year, they don’t check very carefully. I have been going with my drivers for so long now that they don’t even look at the manifest anymore.”

  Darren and Leah looked at each and shrugged while raising their eyebrows.

  “Might work,” said Darren.

  “It will work. The Connex containers are forty feet long. They come off the ship by crane and are slapped on the back of a tractor-trailer. They rarely inspect them. Can you fit what you need in the front twenty feet of the container—a space twenty by eight feet and eight feet high? Then we could pack the rear half with normal supplies. Even if they opened the container at the port or searched the truck later on, they’d never unload the whole thing.”

  “That’s more than enough,” said Darren. �
��Our team travels fairly light.” He paused and squinted.

  “What are you thinking?” asked Leah.

  “It’s more than enough room. Wouldn’t be a pleasant trip, but it is another way in for team members.”

  Julia piped up from her end. “Forget it, unless you are packing an air conditioner in there and you really hate the guys that work for you. It would take a few days and would be over a hundred degrees in there. You’d roast your men.”

  “No refrigeration onboard?” Darren asked.

  “No, we get mostly canned goods, medical supplies, dehydrated food stuffs that can take heat, plus some clothing. And the occasional packages you send me.” She was referring to cash, documents and whatever else CIA needed to get to her. They usually were sent sealed inside boxes of tampons. Only once had the container been checked, and the macho security officer had been embarrassed in front of pretty Julia when he saw what the box was. He went past it as fast as he could and then tried for the fifth time to make idle chatter with Julia. No luck.

  “Okay, so that’s out then—just thinking out loud. But I like the container idea. Is there a set schedule?” Darren asked.

  Leah answered for Julia. “Not really. She has fairly standard shipments, but they often get held up until the ship is fully loaded. No one would notice a change in delivery date.”

  “She’s right,” confirmed Julia. You can send it down right away. It will still take at least a week. Can your team be down here by then?”

  Darren looked at Leah and rolled his eyes. “Not sure yet. At this particular moment my men are running around the Everglades. We are trying to get them back ASAP. Then we need to document them and brief them. A week seems awfully fast.”

  Leah smacked his arm, a gesture uncharacteristic of her genteel and professional nature. “They can do it, Darren. No problem. We’ll have them here in thirty-six hours, briefed and set up with new docs in another twenty-four, and en route to Julia immediately after they know where they are going. Can you get the gear list together today?”

  Darren wiped his face with his hands, feeling stressed again. “Okay—I can put the mission together with you that fast assuming we get our team back here in a day and a half, but I need to speak to Mackey and Cascaes about the gear. They have trained on our latest and greatest, but they still prefer some of their own stuff, especially when it comes to weapons. They are a hybrid outfit—it gets a little complicated.”

  “Okay, so get a message off to them, ask them what they need, and we’ll put it together as they fly back. If they have to wait a day or two for the gear to arrive, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. I’m sure Julia could use the help down there.”

  Julia laughed from her end of the phone. “If you send me ten strong guys, I’ll have a new school built in a week.”

  “You won’t have a week. If we fly the Connex to Puerto Rico, they can load it aboard ship there and save a couple of days. Julia, when was the last time you had volunteers down there, arriving at your place, I mean?” Said Leah.

  “You mean real ones?” asked Julia. She had often had CIA agents or other agency’s personnel go through her as a cover.

  “Yeah, real ones. Ever have a large group show up down there?” asked Leah.

  “A few times, actually. Couple of church groups, Peace Corps one time, and then local groups down here, too.”

  “How large were the groups?” she asked.

  “Peace Corps sent twenty, and they stayed about a month to build the water purifier. One church group was about ten, the other was big, like thirty. They didn’t stay as long, though. They were touring Central and South America. I know where you are going with this. It would be safe, Leah. You could send the whole crew into Brazil. Have them meet up with us at the port. Maybe throw in some lumber and building supplies. We can say they are building me my schoolhouse.”

  “Damn—she really wants that school,” said Darren with a smile.

  “I really do, actually,” she said. “But it would also be a perfect cover. If there aren’t any females in your crew, then make them a church group of volunteer construction workers. I’ve been promising a school for over a year.”

  “So now I need to add lumber and nails to my list, too?” asked Darren. The director is going to love this request.”

  “Quit your bitching,” said Leah. “I happen to know that you have some spending money right now.” She flashed her sexy smile.

  Darren was surprised that she knew about the truck that had been taken down in Saudi Arabia by the team a few weeks prior. He didn’t acknowledge her comment. “I’ll see what I can do,” was all he said.

  Leah told Julia that they would be in touch again within thirty-six hours. She hung up and looked at Darren. “We can ship the container into Santos and fly the men in there all together. It’s a little over five hundred miles from Santos to Paraguay. They can make the trip in a day, albeit a long one. The roads get a little hairy near the border.”

  “And the border crossing into Paraguay? You think my team is going to just walk in at the border in one large group and not raise suspicion?”

  “Why would they? Because of their haircuts? They’ll be conservative Christians on a mission to help the natives. We’ll do the bad t-shirts and everything. Julia is well known at the border. The locals love her down there. And I am serious about helping her with the school. We do enough ‘wet work’ in this office. How about a little redemption for us, too?” Leah was serious, and folded her hands to let everyone know she was done.

  Darren looked at Dex and chucked his chin at him, as if to ask his opinion.

  “Look, boss—if we were landing in Iran, I’d have an opinion. I have no idea how it works south of the border. If Leah and Julia are cool with it, I defer to them.”

  Leah’s assistant, who hadn’t said a word the entire meeting, but had been taking furious notes, finally spoke up. She was a sixty-year-old woman, a bit on the frumpy side, and made Leah look even better than she would have normally. “She knows South America,” was all she said.

  “Okay. Then that’s our plan. I will hand off the shopping list to you, Dex. Leah—can you handle the lumber and construction supplies? You have a blueprint for this school of yours?”

  She laughed. “This isn’t America. No blueprints—nothing fancy. They want a roof and a floor. Maybe some benches. This isn’t going to be ADA approved or pass local inspection. These people have nothing, Darren. But putting up a school for the local Guaranis will go a long way in building good will down there. And trust me, we need it.”

  Chapter 16

  Western Everglades

  Mackey and Cascaes sat next to each other in the bow of the first boat. They were monitoring the GPS handheld navigational computers and speaking with a pilot a couple of hundred miles away heading to their emergency homing beacon. The others rowed strong, silent and steady, practicing for the unknown. The SEALs had an easier time with the rowing, something they had all been doing for many years, and divided themselves between the two boats. They quietly coached and taught the others little tricks to extend the amount of time their arms would last pulling themselves through the water. They practiced controlled breathing, exhaling slowly as they pulled, and inhaling as they reached for the next scoop of green water. As arm-weary as they were, no one complained. The training mission, however brief, was over and now, even though they were in Florida, they were on a real mission, and were in serious mode.

  As the paddled, they watched the mysterious world around them, each lost in his own thoughts. Deep in the Everglades like this, they had stepped back a few hundred years into American history and the days of Spanish exploration into the New World. They couldn’t help but sense the foreshadowing of this expedition as they prepared to follow those Spanish explorers all the way to South America. Their thoughts were occasionally broken by the screeching of birds or splash of something around their b
oat. At least no one was shooting at them.

  Cascaes turned to face the rear of the boat, and could easily speak to the other boat directly behind them. “Listen up, people!”

  No one stopped paddling, but faced their second in command.

  “We are still pretty far from the Gulf, but in about three miles, the river gets wider and straight enough to land the seaplane. Most likely, our ride will be sitting out there waiting for us when we get there. We’ll load up and scuttle the rafts. Then straight back to Langley for a full briefing and mission planning. In less than three days, we will most likely be in Brazil or Paraguay paddling, just like you are right now, except there may be a few folks wandering around who don’t appreciate us being there. This evac will be good practice, so hit it like it’s the real deal. Move quickly and efficiently and let’s get that bird off the water as fast as possible. Nobody goes swimming, okay? Any questions?”

  Ripper, who had been in the rear of the first boat and been quietly acting as the coxswain sang out a “no questions, Skipper—now let’s move!” He increased the speed of the rowing, the other boat stepping up into the rhythm. The men were already soaked with sweat, but now felt a change in the urgency, and enjoyed the slight adrenaline rush as they started rowing like a well trained crew-team.

  The two boats glided through the thick green water, now oblivious to the wildlife and beauty around them. They concentrated on their breathing and the voice of Ripper as he quietly kept them in their focused rhythm. It was almost an hour of intense rowing before they heard the seaplane’s engine far in the distance. A few minutes later Mackey’s radio squawked and the pilot came back on reporting that “their ride was waiting.” The men kept their intense pace, and as they came around a little bend in the river, the river opened much wider and straightened out to reveal the large seaplane anchored in the center of the river.