"Vis-a-vis my counseling you on the inadvisability of flying UH-60 aircraft without a co-pilot, Colonel," Kingsolving said, "I meant every word of it. But there is an old military axiom that I'm really surprised you did not learn at our beloved alma mater. To wit: When you are the senior officer, you are, in certain circ.u.mstances, permitted to say, 'Do as I say, not as I do.'

"I'm going to fly that Mexican UH-60 back and forth to the island of La Orchila, Charley. Period."

"There goes your star, you realize."

"That thought did run through my mind, frankly. But what the h.e.l.l. If they made me a general, they'd say I was too valuable to fly myself anywhere, with or without a co-pilot. And I don't want to fly a desk in the Pentagon."

Then he looked at Captain Lowe.

"I think we're through here, Captain. Is the Navy planning on feeding us lunch?"

[FIVE].

The USS Bataan Bataan (LHD 5) (LHD 5) The Caribbean Sea 2055 12 February 2007

Former Podpolkovnik Svetlana Alekseeva was not in sight when Lieutenant Colonel C. G. Castillo entered the stateroom.

He was not really surprised. She had not spoken a word to him at lunch, then had spent the entire afternoon with the Spetsnaz somewhere below deck, presumably checking their equipment and seeing to it they understood their roles in the operation.

They had had a conversation of sorts at dinner.

"May I please have the b.u.t.ter?" she had asked him.

"Of course," he had said. "My pleasure."

"Thank you," she had said, ending their conversation.

Now, alone in the stateroom, Castillo decided that she had run down the old chief and told him she had changed her mind about sharing his quarters. Earlier, Captain Lowe had shown him the Bataan Bataan's sick bay-actually a small, fully equipped hospital-and while doing so, Castillo had noticed there were sleeping quarters for nurses.

She's probably in one of those.

He took off his Walmart battle dress, and lay down on the lower of the two bunks the room offered.

I'll take a shower at 0230, he decided, not now. not now.

Taking one then will wake me up.

He closed his eyes.

"If you think we're going to make love without you taking a shower, think again," former Podpolkovnik Svetlana Alekseeva announced not sixty seconds later.

He opened his eyes. She was standing beside the bunk bed wearing a thin cotton bathrobe.

"Am I permitted to say I'm a little surprised?" Charley asked, after having regained his breath perhaps ten minutes later.

"In eight hours, the Venezuelans may have the both of us stretched out on a wooden table, the way your Green Berets stretched out Che Guevara," Svetlana said. "I did not want to spend all eternity knowing that I had had the chance to spend my last hours making love with you, and threw it away."

"Good thinking," he said.

"Right now, I don't like you very much-how dare you talk to me the way you did?-but I love you."

He had a wildly tangential thought. "Where's Max?"

She pointed.

Max was lying with his head between his paws on the stateroom's small desk, nearly covering it, and looking at them.

"How long's he been there?" Charley asked.

"He was sleeping under the bunk. But you were making so much noise, I guess you woke him up."

[ONE].

The USS Bataan Bataan (LHD 5) (LHD 5) North Lat.i.tude 12.73, West Longitude 66.18 The Caribbean Sea 0355 13 February 2007

"I have a confession to make, sir," Castillo said as a man wearing a soft leather helmet and goggles and holding illuminated wands crossed on his chest approached the UH-60 with Policia Federal Preventiva markings. The Black Hawk helicopter was sitting, with rotors turning, at the extreme aft portion of the Bataan Bataan's flight deck.

"This is not the place, my son. But make sure you see me before you take communion," Colonel Kingsolving said, playing along.

"I think you better follow me through, sir," Castillo went on, his tone serious.

"Something wrong, Charley?" Kingsolving asked, now with concern in his voice.

"I think you better follow me through, sir," Castillo repeated. "Or take it."

"Too late to take it," Kingsolving said. "There's the 'go' signal. If you don't want to abort, I'll follow you through."

"Here we go," Castillo said.

He lifted off, hovered for a moment, and then reduced forward speed from twenty knots to ten. The deck moved out from under the aircraft at a speed of ten knots, and a moment later, he was looking at the stern of the Bataan Bataan.

The UH-60 dipped its nose toward the sea, picked up speed, and then began a steep climbing turn to the right into the dark sky.

"You all right? You want me to take it, Charley?"

"I've got it. I'm all right now," Castillo said.

Out his window he could see one of the 160th's Black Hawks being quickly pushed to the aft of the flight deck.

"Interesting departure," Kingsolving said. "Where'd you learn how to do that, at Pensacola?"

"What I was going to confess, sir, was that I don't have very much experience in night-launching a UH-60 from a carrier."

"Oh, s.h.i.t!" Kingsolving said, after considering that for a moment. "Please don't tell me that was your first."

"Yes, sir. I won't tell you that."

"I had a look at your flight records, Charley, while they were trying to make up their minds whether to give you The Medal or court-martial you the last time you manifested suicidal behavior involving a UH-60. You remember that? When you went after d.i.c.k Miller?"

"If I thought that going after d.i.c.k was suicidal, I wouldn't have done it."

"You were the only aviator in Afghanistan who didn't. I was astonished to see that as long as you've been flying, you've never dinged a bird-getting shot down not counting. Never. Not any kind of a bird. Do you have an explanation for that?"

"Clean living and a pure heart?"

"You don't think what you did just now was suicidal?"

"Straight answer?"

"Please."

"No, I didn't. You following me through on the controls took care of the safety factor, and now I know how to launch at night in a UH-60 from a carrier. You never know when that might come in handy."

Kingsolving didn't reply.

"Kidnapper One and Two, Keystone Kop," Castillo said to his microphone. "I'm going to circle the ship at two thousand feet. Join up on me five hundred feet behind."

[TWO].

La Orchila Island Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela 0502 13 February 2007

It was just getting light as the three UH-60s approached the island.

Castillo estimated he would be on the ground in three minutes, give or take.

One of the 160th's Black Hawks following him would laser-target the commo building and report when it had done so, but would not fire until Castillo gave the order.

The other would hover over the airfield to the left of the hangar. It would be prepared to clear the tarmac in front of the hangar with its GAU-19 .50 caliber Gatling guns if the Spetsnaz guarding them offered significant resistance.

Castillo had spent a good thirty minutes trying to impress on its pilots that a disaster beyond comprehension would occur if the fire from their weapons struck-which would virtually atomize-the blue barrels they had come to seize. He thought he had succeeded-the chief warrant officers flying the gunship were both veteran special operators, not excitable young men, and both wore the wings of Master Army Aviators.

"I wonder what General Buckner-or his father-would think of this?" Colonel Kingsolving said.

"Of what?" Castillo asked.

"Our a.s.sault on the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela. 'Bolivarian' makes reference of course to General Simon Bolivar, the great Liberator."

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"General Simon Bolivar Buckner, Senior, West Point Cla.s.s of '44-Cla.s.s of 1844 1844-was a Confederate general. He was forced to surrender Fort Donelson, Kentucky, to his cla.s.smate, General Ulysses Grant. Buckner gave Grant his parole, and was later exchanged. I thought about that when you told me about General Naylor giving you his parole."

"Thanks for sharing that with me, Colonel."

"His son," Kingsolving went on, "General Simon Bolivar Buckner, Junior, Hudson High Cla.s.s of '08, was the most senior officer killed in combat in the Pacific during World War Two. He was commanding the Tenth Army on Okinawa when struck by j.a.panese artillery."

Over their headsets suddenly came: "Keystone Kop, Kidnapper One. I have my laser on the target, acknowledge." "Keystone Kop, Kidnapper One. I have my laser on the target, acknowledge."

"Kidnapper One, Keystone Kop acknowledges you have target acquisition," Castillo answered.

"They are both, I believe, buried at West Point," Kingsolving went on.

"Well, maybe they'll bury us there."

"Keystone Kop, Kidnapper Two has a visual on armed and moving possible belligerents."

"Kidnapper Two, Keystone Kop acknowledges you have visual on possible belligerents. Hold fire until I clear. Acknowledge."

"Kidnapper Two acknowledges hold fire."

Kingsolving said, "I'd rather thought you'd prefer interment beside your father in the National Cemetery in San Antonio."

"If those Spetsnaz waving those Kalashnikovs at us start shooting them, we're both probably going to be buried right here," Castillo said, and then, remembering what Sweaty had said the night before, added: "After we're displayed on a table, like Hugo Chavez's hero, Che Guevara."

He waited another two seconds, then said, "Kidnapper One, engage, engage."

He then switched to the intercom to alert Berezovsky and his four ex-Spetsnaz waiting in the back of the UH-60 with Mexican federal police markings.

"Dmitri, we'll be on the ground in three seconds. Ve con Dios Ve con Dios."

He heard what he had said, and thought: I'll be G.o.dd.a.m.ned-I meant that! I'll be G.o.dd.a.m.ned-I meant that!

Go with G.o.d, Dmitri!

Jesus H. Christ! Are Sweaty and her brother turning me into a believer?

He saw the exhaust flare from the first h.e.l.lfire missile race through the air, and then from another, and then from a third.