Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Willy Tamarack
Title: Surfers Rule
Part: 5 of 11
Universe:
Summary:
Keywords: (love story, adventure, war viol)
Language: English


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   @(C) 1996-2015 Willy Tamarack Commercial use in any form requires the
written permission of the author and will ensure a portion of the proceeds
goes to the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML).

   Surfers Rule

   by

   Willy Tamarack

   With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S.  Constitution

   Chapter Thirteen

   Ed woke with a start.  The sun was up and shinning.  He was in his own
bed but could still smell her.  Probably because Isabel Morales was lying
right next to him with just her slip on.  He could see the strap coming
over her shoulder.  He missed going surfing until he realized he never
heard the Bug start up but then he probably wouldn't.  Craig would roll it
out to the street and push start it himself.  His father's tradition, karma
or something.  Ed wondered if Craig went surfing ?

   Isabel came awake, feeling him next to her.  It had been a long time and
last night had been a very good night.  She pulled the sheet up around her
neck and opened her eyes.  He was awake, looking over at her.

   "Good morning to you, Isabel.  You think I should run down stairs and
see that your daughter and Craig are properly chaperoned ?" She looked up
at the ceiling and laughed for several moments.

   "And what about the old folks ?  Do we need chaperoning ?" Ed rolled out
of bed and laughed.  He had his jeans on, without underwear, in just
moments and looked back at her.  His chest was covered with a sparse carpet
of gray hair.

   "I was just joking.  I know what Craig and Cindy went through to be
together.  We have no worry on that front.  I promise you.  But, senora,
this revenge of yours scares me more than what we did last night.  It is a
tricky thing, something that can consume you.  Will the `wicked widow' be
able to control this desire for revenge because money will not buy all
things, Isabel."

   Isabel sat up in bed, the swell of her breasts much more impressive now.
Their eyes were locked.

   "I'm not stupid, Ed.  This has to be perfect to work.  I don't want to
spend the rest of my life in prison or be responsible for worse either.  Or
condemn my daughter to a life of servitude or whatever.  But I want to make
a statement that some can defend themselves.  I have thought about this for
a long time, Ed."

   "It's not a perfect world, senora."

   "I know that, Ed.  Relax, like Malibu said, we're just tossing around
some ideas here, old man." She paused.  He was still staring at her. 
Isabel continued.  "Regardless of how this works out..." He was putting on
his shirt.  "...Could anything get you to come south with me.  No surfing
but a lot of flying.  I plan on developing that land out west and I'll need
a man to help me.  No strings attached.  It works out.  We talk about it."

   "We didn't talk last night."

   "You stupid, old man.  We talked from the time we finished lunch until
we parked in the garage.  What more do you want, Ed ?" He broke eye contact
with her.

   "What am I supposed to tell Craig and Cindy ?  We're kind of partners.
But I really just advise and fly...Really just give opinions and fly." He
wanted to in the most extreme way but was afraid to commit.  One last
adventure; like the war had been when he was a lieutenant ?!

   "They're smart.  They'll figure it out.  So will Maria.  Don't sweat the
small stuff.  Come back to bed, Ed."

   Ed looked at her for more than a minute before he dropped his jeans. 
The bed was warm and so was Isabel, warm and eager.  So was Ed.

   *****

   Craig was out in the kitchen with a pot of coffee already brewed.  Maria
could smell it from the master bedroom.  They had gone to bed at eleven. 
Her to the master bedroom.  He to the guest room where Ed had been
sleeping. They had watched for over twenty minutes, waiting for Ed and
Isabel to leave the garage.  Craig assured her that there was no other way
up to the apartment.

   Maria rolled out of bed and scampered to the small bathroom off the
master bedroom.  Her hair was a mess but what could she do ?  All her stuff
was up over the garage but so were her mother and Ed.  Unless they slept in
the Bug all night.  She laughed at the thought.  She still didn't fully
understand the submarine thing, though.

   Craig was alone and reading the Wall Street Journal when she entered the
kitchen.  She mumbled a greeting and poured herself a cup of coffee.

   "No surfing ?" She asked.  Craig shook his head, continuing to read the
paper.

   She sat and pulled a section of the local paper over to her side of the
table.  Every few minutes one of them looked toward the apartment above the
garage.  Maria asked if Surfer Girl had sent a message ?  Craig shook his
head again.  At exactly nine o'clock, Isabel led Ed down the stairs.  Craig
and Maria buried their faces in their newspapers.

   "Any word from `Surfer Girl' ?" Isabel asked as soon as she entered the
kitchen.  Ed went straight to the coffee.  Craig followed him with his
eyes. Maria answered.

   "No but Craig has a line on some airplanes.  A British Spitfire or the
American A-1 Skyraider.  I like the Skyraider.  It's cheaper, more reliable
and carries more ammo." Maria was proud of regurgitating what Craig had
briefed her last night.

   Ed turned from filling his cup and rolled his eyes at the ceiling but
couldn't hold Craig's gaze.  Isabel went toward Ed and took the cup out of
his hand.  He turned to fill another cup.

   "Well, that sounds promising.  What is the cost ?  Never mind.  What is
next ?"

   Craig continued.  "Depending on what Cindy returns with, a site survey.
One of us has to go to Brazil and see if it's physically possible.  Is the
terrain to our advantage ?  Is the airfield long enough for a fully fueled
aircraft ?  Can enough fuel be stored ?  I imagine we'll need a high view
point near the home base in order to get radar coverage of the combat
zone."

   Isabel turned to look at Ed.  "Well...Come to Brazil with me, Ed...On
this site survey.  You do the site survey.  I'll buy Blake Hansen and we'll
take the Malibu to Brazil.  Come on, Ed.  What do you say ?"

   "This is getting nuttier by the minute.  But count me in for a while at
least.  We're still not doing anything really stupid, yet !?" Ed had his
arm around Isabel's shoulder.  Craig and Maria were smiling.

   *****

   It was a little before five the following morning when Craig entered the
garage.  There was already a board strapped to the roof of the Bug and
Isabel Morales was sitting in the rear seat.

   "Get a board for Haggerties.  Isabel's coming with us.  She'll see more
at the fence than at the Cove." Ed was getting into the driver's seat. 
Craig ran to the wall rack and pulled down a six footer, two inches taller
than he was.  They all smoked but said little on the way to Haggerties.

   Isabel stood at the fence line and looked out at the two poles standing
up in the water off shore.  She could easily identify them.  The "old man"
was sitting astride his board.  Malibu was lying on his.  They had both
caught several waves, all around shoulder high.  It was very exciting
watching them.  For the first time since she started her quest she really
believed that her fantasy might actually be possible.

   They were both paddling for the same wave.  Ed was up first and riding
before Craig dropped in to the wave.  Ed turned behind Craig and then they
traded places again, one of them riding behind the other to get out in
front on the wave.  Up and down they went each taking a turn at being out
front and then Craig kicked out very near the shore.  The "old man" was
still riding, standing on the forward part of his board with his arms in
the air.  At the last moment, before the wave crashed on to the shore, he
crouched, pulled the nose of his board through the back of the wave and
ended up standing in hip high water with his board at his side.

   Isabel waved.  Craig was still paddling toward the shore.  She continued
waving.  Neither of them returned her greeting.  She looked off in the
distance at what used to be called the "South Bay", stretching from Santa
Monica in the north to Torrance Beach in the south, then noticed the men
moving off toward the Bug.  Isabel ran across the field to catch up with
them.  Craig held the seat forward so she could get into the back.  When
they arrived back at the Hansen's, Maria was in the kitchen waiting for
them.

   "`Surfer Girl' sent a message.  I can't read it.  It must be encrypted.
Is that what it is, Craig ?"

   "Yes, `Little Widow' all our communication from now forward will be
encrypted." He headed through the kitchen toward the back of the house. 
All three of them followed him.  He didn't even sit to decrypt the message.
Just called up a program called "pgp," small letters.  Typed in his
password and the jumble of letters and symbols turned into four lines of
text.
From: surfer girl
To: malibu

   Mission very successful.

   Home noon today.



   Craig turned to Maria.  "A plane ride for you today, darling.  You two
get to mind the store while we're gone.  Dinner at the house this evening.
Ed, how about taking some hamburger out of the freezer before we leave."

   Chapter Fourteen

   Dinner was a ruin of used paper plates, piled high with un-eaten french
fries which most of them were still picking at.  All the women were
drinking wine, the men Jack Daniels.  Cindy mentioned the weather was much
warmer in Alabama.  Isabel bragged about her trip to watch Ed and Craig
surf.  At every opportunity Maria stated that answering the phones sucked.
They all laughed a lot.  The men ate and drank but talked little.

   After dinner, Craig retrieved Cindy's stash and packed a bowl full of
marijuana.  He offered the pipe to Maria first.  She quickly set a lighter
to it and took a huge drag.  Cindy looked over at Isabel but she just
shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "Don't ask me ?" Cindy took the pipe
next and Craig finished up.  Then it went around again.

   "Come on, `Surfer Girl', enough with the pot smoking.  What did you find
out ?" Isabel was filling her own wine glass again.  All three of the
youngsters were together on the couch.  Cindy took one last drag and passed
the pipe to Craig.  Maria was leaning back against the back of the couch,
gazing at the ceiling.

   "Sit down, Isabel." Ed whispered.  Then he took her hand and dragged her
over to a bean bag chair.  She sat.  Cindy started.

   "The Citations sit alert.  Daylight hours only.  Three or four crews,
depending on the amount of activity.  They rotate lots of crews back and
forth from the states.  The pilots say it's like airline work.  Quite
lucrative for everyone on board, so says my friend.  CIA picks up the tab
is what they've been told." She took a drink of her wine.

   "The airplanes are primarily avionics platforms.  APG model radar
similar to the F-16.  Kind of like what's in the Malibu but with electronic
counter measures and a lot more power.  No track while scan but the camera
can slave to what they lock up and it has tremendous range.  Out to seven
miles but they usually don't identify the type until five and most
important; are often wrong at that distance.  Crew of four.  Two pilots,
just taxi drivers, but all retired U.S.  military.  An avionics
operator/radio man plus a foreign national.  She wouldn't tell me who but
it has to be a Peruvian.  It's their fighters that did the work we're
interested in.  The Columbians have the same program as do some other
countries down there but no one is as active as the Peruvians.  And that's
where our incident occurred so he has to be Peruvian." Cindy took another
drag off the pipe before continuing.

   "If the target is below a thousand feet it's immediately suspect and
based on a whole bunch of other criteria, they call in the fighter.  The
fighter hails the aircraft, if it tries to avoid or doesn't obey
instructions, it's shot down." Cindy was drinking again.  "My friend called
it a dive bomb pass, target blows up.  They do it even if the guy lands on
one of these strips out in the jungle."

   "They're just strafing the fuckers !?" Ed seemed amazed when he made the
statement.  Cindy was the only woman who seemed to understand.

   "Shack, Ed !" Craig returned.  "We'll kick their ass !"

   Ed looked over at him and for the first time realized that this just
might be possible.  He broke out in a sweat.  The thought was terrifying !

   Cindy continued, "I figure we'll need radar coverage and comm.  The
battle ground has to be close to the border.  Best we can get is a hundred
miles or so.  That's doable if we can place the antenna high enough.  If
they've got RAW (radar warning) they'll know someone's looking at them. 
But I don't see that as a problem.  What can they do about it ?" Cindy
paused and took another hit off the pipe.  Maria was still staring at the
ceiling, the other three intent on Cindy.  "It would be nice to know what
frequencies they operate on but they'll probably have some sort of
frequency hopping in use but maybe not.  The A-37 is not equipped with that
type of transmitter.  And if it works with just the P-3, who cares !?"

   Craig was writing on a pad of paper.  The microphone was set up on the
coffee table again.  Cindy was packing another bowl full of marijuana. 
Isabel was looking over at Craig.  But Maria was the first to talk.

   "Tell her about the airplanes, Craig." She took the bowl after Cindy was
finished with it.  Craig was still sitting between them.

   "British Spitfires or A-1 Skyraiders.  They'll need avionics work and
guns, fifty-one cal or twenty mike mike (millimeter).  IR ranging, computed
sight.  Doable, Cindy ?"

   "Yea, but expensive."

   Isabel felt the confidence of watching them surf this morning flood her.
Malibu and Surfer Girl were hot for the idea from the start but now the old
man was just as excited.  You could see it in his eyes.  She had understood
little of what they were talking about but could see the intensity in their
eyes and mannerisms.  She spoke, "I'm buying Blake Hansen and taking Ed and
the Malibu with me to Brazil to do this site survey.  Three million is what
I'm offering.  How much will you need for the planes ?"

   "Five million." It was Cindy.  "And that's just for the company.  So
what do Craig and I do while you two are off fucking around ?"

   Maria dropped her head from her ceiling gazing and quickly answered. 
"You two should be preparing to do whatever you have to do with the
airplanes.  The old folks will have me to chaperone their activities."
Everyone started laughing and just about drowned out, "Will you be able to
fly them to Brazil ?"

   "Hold on, `Little Widow'.  Lots of shit to do before anyone goes any
where.  You sure you're okay with this, Ed ?  Brazil is a long fucking way
away."

   "No sweat, Craig.  I told you, I'm on board.  Three, four stops and we
got it dicked.  We need to go over some ideas on scenarios.  What I should
be looking for while I'm down there.  An air field, I figure ?"

   "Make one of your stops Cartegena, Ed.  I want you to pump Felix for
intel and yea, an air field or two would be nice." Ideas were exploding in
his mind.  His brain being bombarded with the facts they'd need to be able
to successfully shoot them all down and live to celebrate the victory !

   "Four million," countered Isabel.  "I'm the one paying for the planes."

   "You've got a deal, senora." Cindy accepted.  Craig left for the
kitchen. Cindy and Maria were sharing the pipe again.  Craig returned with
another bottle of wine and everyone toasted their enterprise.

   *****

   The Malibu was on auto-pilot at flight level two four zero, twenty-four
thousand feet, heading one nine zero.  Isabel was sitting in the co-pilot's
seat and Maria was right behind her.  Both women were strapped in tight but
Maria was leaning forward on the copilot's back rest, staring at Cindy's
avionics displays.  Ed had the radar in the weather mode and was painting
the thunderstorms that were dotting the coast of Columbia.  The storms
showed up as bright yellow blobs of color sometimes with a little red in
the center.  The Malibu had been in some high cirrus for over an hour and
was still right on time.

   A hundred miles out of Cartegena; Ed was just about to push over and
contact the Columbia ADIZ.  He looked up the correct ADIZ frequency. 
Moments later he was talking to Columbia and requesting direct to
Cartegena. The report was short and the clearance came quickly.  He again
checked that the women were strapped in tight.

   He switched over to intercom.  "Okay, ladies, we're cleared into
Columbia.  Check the belts again.  It might be a little rough." They both
raised a "thumbs up."

   He set the auto pilot to a two degree descent and watched the altimeter
begin to unwind as the airspeed climbed.  Ed leaned back and rubbed his
eyes for a moment.....

   .....It was like he blinked his eyes and two weeks flew by.  Two great
weeks with a wonderful woman, chasing a dream.  Ed discovered early that he
was very much in love with Isabel Morales...Smart, capable, determined and
an outstanding fuck as he used to say a very long time ago, well before he
married his late wife.

   They set up house above the garage.  Maria moved down into the main
house and had to use the bathroom without a shower or bath.  Ed and Isabel
lived as man and wife.  Every night they slept with each other and almost
every night they had sex.  Ed was on cloud nine, surfing every morning,
flying in the afternoon and having sex before bed.  He didn't think it
could get any better.....

   .....A last check of the weather before they hit the real heavy shit. 
Rain showers in all quadrants, visibility a mile and a half, wind out of
the north at ten knots.  Ed had been hands on for over five minutes now,
the autopilot long forgotten.  They were twenty miles out according to
Cindy's GPS set up and on the way down it had been spot on !  Here comes
the switch to tower.

   "Cartegena tower, Malibu 576 is twenty north."

   "Malibu 576, wind is three four zero at six knots.  Circle west for
runway zero one."

   "Negative, tower.  Malibu 576 request landing on runway one nine."

   "Malibu 576 cleared to land runway one nine.  Wind is three five zero at
seven knots."

   The ILS was alive and Ed watched the glide slope come down to meet them.
He selected full flaps and pushed the nose down momentarily before
squirting a little trim in the same direction.  The vertical velocity
indicator was slowing as it passed a thousand feet a minute.  He set the
throttle and watched the airspeed settle at one twenty-five.  The aircraft
was hands off at the marker so Ed called the tower and reported his
position.  It was nothing but heavy rain on the windscreen.  He took one
last look at the women and then back at the instruments.  Keep that cross
check moving.

   *****

   Javier sat in the idling panel truck.  Felix instructed him to be there
at exactly twelve forty-five.  It was twelve fifty-five.  Senora Morales
was to arrive at precisely thirteen hundred hours.  The pilot was code
named "old man." Javier thought that was funnier than shit.  He looked at
his watch.  He looked back up at the hanger and saw the doors start coming
open.  Felix had been a real asshole about this whole operation, demanding
all kinds of precision.  He called it professionalism.  Only his most
trusted even knew this was happening, just the three of them here.

   The radio, under the dash, came alive.  It was the proper call sign and
they were landing against the tower's instructions.  Felix said to expect
this pilot to do the unexpected.  Shit !  He was going to be right on time.
Unbelievable !  Javier was impressed but then the men who were sent with
him had seen the one they called "Surfer Girl" in action.  Better than a
man they said.  They were hoping she was with them today.  That's all they
talked about.  They were clueless but then so was he.  Just the hired help.

   *****

   Ed had just finished reporting the field in sight.  The runway lights
were very bright after the darkness of the rain showers.  It was still
raining but not nearly as hard.  The Malibu was descending at a very good
rate.  Ed had already shifted the aim point well short of the threshold of
runway one nine.  At fifty feet above the ground the throttle came to idle
and then the nose started to rise until the wheels kissed the ground about
ten feet beyond the green threshold lights.

   Ed held the nose up as he raised the flaps.  The nose came down with a
small bounce and Ed kept the yoke in his lap.  He tapped the brakes going
through eighty knots and still had five, six thousand feet left.  The
hanger was at the far end of the runway and ten grand is ten grand, a long
way to taxi.  Ed kept the speed up.  He caught sight of the dark panel
truck well before the Malibu cleared at the end.  He flashed the landing
light three times, paused and then once again.  A flashlight from the truck
shot back twice.  Ed followed the panel truck, which had "Morales Aviation"
painted on the sides, toward the wide open doors of the hanger.

   "That's a little much, don't you think, Isabel ?"

   "My father would be very proud of my mother right about now." Maria
countered.  Ed was finding her as crazy as the two back in Southern
California.

   "I can't buy airplanes without a company to do so.  That would arouse
suspicion.  Malibu says we need a front for the traveling air show that
will give you plenty of time to practice before we go to war." And Ed
thought Isabel was more reasonable ?!

   The panel truck headed for the north side of the hanger.  Ed taxied into
the hanger and shut down right on spot.  The hanger doors were being closed
by a pair of well muscled men.

   Ed took his time packing up and storing his gear.  He'd be glad to spend
a night or two on the ground.  It had been a hard three days of flying. 
The hanger doors were closed now and it was quite dark.  He led the way to
the rear and opened the cabin door.

   "Welcome back to Columbia, Senora Morales." Javier was standing at the
bottom of the steps, bowing.

   "Not quite, buddy." Ed jumped to the ground and held a hand up for the
ladies.  Javier backed away.  The guy didn't move like an old man.

   Ed sensed Isabel relax as soon as she recognized him.  The other two
were just muscle.  He was the same man who picked her up months ago when
she first visited Felix.  Her daughter stayed close to Ed's side.

   "This way please, senoras." The guy treated Ed like hired help and maybe
that's the way it should be.  It didn't bother Ed in the least.  The muscle
preceded them to the van and were sitting in the back when Ed tossed his
backpack into the van and closed the side sliding door.

   "No blindfold this time, Javier ?" Isabel inquired.

   "No, not today, senora.  The boss said VIP treatment today.  It will be
about an hour or so depending on traffic.  Relax.  Enjoy the scenery."

   "Funny." Maria countered.  Those in the back could see nothing but rain
and low clouds out the front windshield of the truck.  Rain beat down on
the windshield and roof of the panel truck as it left the hanger behind. 
Ed didn't have a clue what they were talking about and already had his eyes
closed.

   Chapter Fifteen

   April 2000

   Cartegena, Columbia

   Ed slept during the drive and didn't open his eyes again until the truck
came to a stop and the engine was turned off.  He was stretching when
Javier turned to the rear and told them they could get out.  This was not
the same location Isabel first met Felix.  It was a hacienda, modest and
very well concealed in the jungle.  Ed walked around the stone packed
parking area, about the only thing out in the open.  It was still raining
lightly.

   Javier was climbing a flight of stairs carved into the cliff side.  The
stairs disappeared under an overhang of thick vegetation.  Through the
vegetation you could just see small bits of the main structure fifty feet
or so above the parking area.  The men were carrying his backpack so Ed
followed the ladies as they headed for the stairs.

   Felix was standing at the head of the stairs on a veranda that wrapped
around the two story structure.  His family was living on the second floor
and home today.  His wife wanted to meet Senora Morales.  That was the only
reason he would ever conduct business in his home.  But was this really
business ?  More like a hobby, he thought.  He waited until she got to the
veranda and then embraced her.

   "It is an honor to see you again so soon, Senora Morales.  And how was
the weather in Southern California ?" They were still embracing at the top
of the stairs.  Maria continued to hang by Ed's side.  His backpack
disappeared into the home with the muscle.  Javier was standing about ten
feet away.  Ed was totally relaxed.  Not one of them had exhibited a bit of
tension.  Isabel Morales was a respected friend here.

   "Felix, my daughter, `little widow'." She laughed before continuing. 
"And my senior pilot, the `old man.'"

   Ed was holding out his hand.  Felix reached to take it.  "Ed Merril. 
Malibu and Surfer Girl send their regards." Ed reported.

   "Well, let's go get a drink into you.  Dreadful weather but good for our
purposes, eh !  And your arrival won me several lucrative bets with my men.
They said you'd never make it on time because of the weather." He laughed
as he led the way into the home.

   It was a large dinning room.  His young and very attractive wife was
standing at the side of the huge dinning table.  There was a lot of Spanish
being spoken but all Ed noticed was the bottle of Jack Daniels among the
other liquor bottles on the little rolling bar set against the far wall. 
He moved toward it.  What appeared to be a servant moved toward the cart.
Pointy-talkie worked world wide and Ed had a good slug of "Jack" on the
rocks before joining the group.  The women were gabbing while Senor Motay
stood to the side.  No business was being discussed here and Ed bet that
the servants and mama would be gone long before any serious discussion
would ensue.

   Ed looked around the room.  This room looked expensive to Ed but he was
never a good judge of expensive things.  His deceased wife was good at it.
He wandered back over for a refill.  He wondered if Isabel had servants ?
She probably did.  He was afraid of her wealth and wondered if that would
change the way he felt about her ?  The thought had crossed his mind more
than once that she was using him.  He was far from experienced when it came
to figuring out what people intended or what motivated them.  Maybe Craig
and Cindy told the old lady to put the moves on him, to get him on board ?

   He'd like to believe he was here because of Cindy's friend in Florida.
The one who said it was very lucrative for everyone involved.  He knew he
would not have taken their employment opportunity regardless of how
lucrative it was.  He regarded them as no more than mercenaries.  And as
for the Peruvian air force; if they wanted to strafe unarmed civilians ? 
Well, Craig said it best, Ed couldn't come up with one officer he knew in
twenty years of service who would have allowed that plan to make it to
takeoff.

   "And how did the van work at the airport, Ed ?" Juan had approached very
quietly and surprised him.  Ed turned.

   "Great, Juan.  What I have come to expect while working for Malibu. 
After a while you tire of hearing about the six `P's." Ed laughed a little.
"Funny how that six word phrase started this whole project."

   "Hardly, Ed.  It was the importing of four tons of cocaine to the
Estados Unidos.  I imagine you flew down here on the proceeds of that one
trip."

   Ed stared at him for a long time before responding.  He lifted his glass
of Jack Daniels and replied, "Let's toast to our future endeavors, Felix."
Their glasses clinked and then the women were around them, inquiring about
what they were toasting.  Just then the servants started rushing into the
room and food was being placed on the table.  Ed got himself another
healthy slug of "Jack" and sat down next to Isabel.  Maria sat next to Mrs.
Motay across from them and Juan was at the head of the table.

   Most of the conversation was in english as even Mrs.  Motay understood
more english than Ed did Spanish.....

   .....Just as he expected; it was just the four of them.  They were in
his office, a large room with no windows.  Six PCs lined a large wall rack
and you could hear the hard drives whirring in the back ground.  Maria was
bored and half loaded on wine.  She sat in a padded straight back chair
behind the large desk that fronted the server rack.  Ed was holding his own
but carrying the bottle of Jack Daniels and liberally filling his glass.

   Isabel was stone cold sober.  Felix sounded a little loaded at times and
Ed hoped he was able to carry on as he wanted to be out of Columbia
tomorrow.

   "So, Ed, what is it you need from me ?" Juan Motay had placed the desk
at his back and pushed himself up on to it.  Isabel was going though her
purse.

   "Tell me how many airplanes you've lost and what you have learned from
the losses.  Any tactics you use ?  Do you still use airplanes ?"

   Felix had fired up a large, fat cigar.  He puffed a few times before
answering.  Isabel had unfolded a large legal sheet of paper.  "I'm
assuming Isabel told you I lost eight.  Same number.  Eight.  They seem to
track them to the air field and then shoot them while they're on the ground
now.  It was only the first three or so that were shot down in the sky, I
think.  They took off and disappeared; never landed any where that I know
of.  And their disappearance coincided with celebrations at the Peruvian
Air Force pilot's lounge.  That was enough for me.  Do you challenge my
conclusions ?  We have people who have seen planes shot up on the ground.
But they have never sent troops in to investigate.  Not even helicopters.
Just the seeing eye and his attack dog."

   The hair on the back of Ed's neck stood on end thinking these guys were
celebrating this type of slaughter.  "Your guys never shot back at these
guys !?"

   "Sure.  All the time.  But it's only automatic weapons.  Seven point six
two shit.  It would take a very lucky shot.  These guys dive out of the sky
and shoot the plane as it is parked on the runway, getting loaded, taxiing,
taking off.  They just appear and start shooting.  It's over in minutes and
they're gone.  So we have stopped transporting by air."

   "How about a new air field.  How long does it take them to get wind of
it ?"

   "Usually the first time you use it.  They show up about forty minutes
after you land.  Sometimes longer.  Depends on how far away the air field
is from Pucallpa, their home base.  The fighters come out of Iquitos."

   "Can you give me the coordinates of two or three air fields used in the
past in eastern Peru ?  We want nothing close to any active sites you may
still have in Peru.  As close to the border as possible, within forty,
fifty miles would be great.  And we aren't planning on landing.  Any
problems with any of that ?"

   "An air field or two...Sure.  No problem.  Anything else ?"

   "No.  That's it.  Three would be good.  This operation will only last a
day or two at the most." Ed poured another slug of Jack.

   "How do you plan on doing this, Ed?"

   "Not sure, Juan.  That's what I'm down here for.  To see what's
feasible. Surprise is the only advantage we have and in any scenario it
will only last a millisecond or so.  We also need to plan for radar
coverage of the air fields.  It would be nice to know the radio frequencies
they use.  Would that be possible ?"

   "I'm sorry...No.  My agent only has the ability to ask general questions
and has no way to get that type of information.  Does this mean it's not
feasible ?

   "No, not at all.

   "Well, if it's feasible ?  Then what ?"

   "I imagine we're gonna ruin some Peruvian fighter pilot's day and maybe
even some CIA guys, too." Isabel folded up the paper in her hand.  Ed had
discussed all that was on it.