Ken Goddard - Double blind

"All things considered, I think it's pretty clear that the members of this group represent a minimal threat to our operation."

Rustman paused, pleased to see that not one member of Wintersole's hunter-killer team had cracked a smile.

"And as you may have guessed by now, in addition to being the location of our ambush site, the Chosen Brigade of the Seventh Seal will also function as our primary bait. Any questions so far?"

One member of the team raised his hand, and Rustman gestured for him to speak.

"Colonel, begging your pardon, but it seems to me these people lack the credibility to be bait… or anything else, sir."

Lt. Colonel John Rustman nodded thoughtfully. "That is a problem, soldier," he agreed. "What would you suggest we do to correct that situation?"

"Arm them properly, sir," came the immediate reply.

"So they become a legitimate threat to your team?"

"I don't think so, sir." The soldier smiled briefly. "Just credible."

Rustman turn to glance at Wintersole, who nodded solemnly in agreement.

"You're going to need a go-between to introduce you to these people." Rustman spoke directly to Wintersole. "I understand there's at least one outsider these people seem to trust enough to let into their compound on a routine basis. Some old codger who claims to be a soothsayer — some kind of fortune-teller — hangs around town trying to sell Indian jewelry and artifacts to tourists. I've seen him down by the pancake house three or four times in the past month. He's about five-ten, one-fifty at most, frizzy gray hair, full gray beard, wears a variety of beaded headbands and jewelry — most of which, I gather, he's perfectly willing to part with if the price is right — and typically dresses in old Vietnam-era cammo gear. He might be worth a try."

"Yes sir. We'll locate and contact him immediately," Wintersole acknowledged the barely disguised order.

"An excellent suggestion, soldier," Rustman congratulated the young man who had posed the credibility issue. "Which, I might add, just goes to prove the basic superiority of the American fighting man — and woman," he added without missing a beat, but noting that the single female member of the team, a very tough, no-nonsense-looking soldier in her own right, acknowledged the comment with a slight dip of her head. "If an American commander is lost in battle, the next subordinate officer, NCO, or grunt is expected to step forward and provide immediate and effective leadership in the field. I expect that premise to apply to everyone in this room. We have a mission, and we will not fail to complete it, no matter what. Are there any other questions?"

Not a single hand went up.

"It's still hunting season," Rustman went on, "so no one outside the community will pay too much attention to gunshots… even if we do increase the firepower of our paramilitary associates. In fact, any shooting at all will provide a useful cover for our own activities," he added with a slight smile.

"We have established five primary escape routes" — he indicated these with five quick passes of the pointer — "which will give you access to pre-positioned supplies which we'll also leave in place. A total of one hundred kilos of Semtex® and twelve claymores, set in rearward-facing, cross-trail patterns at five twenty-yard intervals, protects each escape route. The devices are rigged and armed for remote detonation from your individual transmitters, and the outer ranges are clearly marked in the standard long range reconnaissance manner. Just make sure you and your teammates are completely clear before you activate and use the system," the military officer added with another one of his thin-lipped smiles.

The team members continued eating with studied indifference. They knew all about the escape routes. They'd spent two full weeks putting the devices and markers in place, and memorizing the kill zones. No problem.

"Your targets — " Rustman went on, and was pleased when every member of the hunter-killer team immediately stopped eating and listened intently — "are five Special Agents of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service."

Rustman paused for a moment to let those words sink in.

"For reasons that are not important to you or to your mission, these agents represent a significant threat to our military/industrial readiness. Their deaths, and the subsequent exposure of their activities in the media, will significantly impact the reputations of a number of highly influential people willing to sacrifice the military strength of our nation for the continued survival of a few weak animal species.

"I had hoped to have individual profiles available for you today, but our accelerated timetable made that impossible. However, First Sergeant Wintersole will give you verbal descriptions of these agents which will enable you to recognize and isolate both the primary and diversionary targets. The profiles — which will include photographs — will be delivered to you at the message drop site prior to your interaction with these agents. I can tell you right now, however, that none of these people have any prior military experience, and none are expected to be armed with anything other than their assigned duty weapons, primarily 10mm Smith amp; Wesson semiautomatic pistols with twelve-round magazines. Like all federal agents, they're trained to shoot for center of mass, a considerable advantage for you, since your body armor will easily defeat a 10mm expanding hollow-point pistol bullet.

"In addition to your superior weapons and firepower," Rustman went on, "you will be equipped with the latest generation of night-vision gear which utilize a phased array of infrared and ultraviolet detectors. The view screens provide some interesting computer-enhanced color imagery for hot objects, which turns out to be a major improvement over the old green monotone scopes… especially in terms of small objects that are either distant or moving. The effects can be disorienting at first, especially if you're used to the old night-vision gear, so you're going to need to get some practice hours in before we go operational; but as you'll see, the tactical advantage you gain is substantial.

"In other words," the retired military officer concluded, "your adversaries simply won't stand a chance."

Rustman noticed that every member of the hunter-killer team — with the exception of Wintersole, who remained expressionless — nodded their heads and smiled slightly at that last comment. No broad grins. No hand-slaps or cheerful commentary. Just a quiet and professional display of pleasant anticipation. It was nice that the odds for the impending operation were completely stacked in their favor. Not essential. Just nice.

This pleased Lt. Colonel John Rustman a great deal.

"At 0900 hours this morning, local Caribbean time, a hundred thousand dollars was placed in each of your designated Grand Bahamian bank accounts. At the completion of this mission, an additional two hundred thousand dollars will be added to each account. There will also be an opportunity for each of you to earn a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus," Rustman paused for effect, "in the event that a female agent who is expected to be added to their team is captured alive and utilized for our diversionary ploy. First Sergeant Wintersole will explain all of that to you later.

"Oh, and one more thing," Rustman said. "There is a possibility that we may have an informant working on the outer perimeter of our operation, for purposes of gathering intelligence. In the unlikely event this informant ever needs to make contact with any of you, the code identifier will be 'canvasback,' repeat, 'canvasback.' Everybody have that?"

All seven heads nodded in acknowledgment.

"If all goes as planned, and it will, make no mistake about that," Rustman emphasized in a firm and confident voice, "this should be a one-day, in-out mission. Once the agents are lured into position, you will move in fast, hit hard, disengage, and get out. Any questions?"