Part 27 (1/2)
”Cap, I have six bodies, none showing any signs of life on or off the scanner. I'd say we're clear up here.”
”Clear in the rear. Okay, men, come on board. Fernandez, out the left-side door, up the hill you'll find our one live one. Have a talk with him. Find out everything you can. Tell him he gets to live if he tells you all he knows: who hired him, why, who any non-Mexican men are.”
”Roger that, Skipper. I'm coming back your way.”
Within three or four minutes the plane held fifteen SEALs. Their first job was to search all the dead, looking for any papers, orders, or instructions.
Gardner drew the winning hand. ”Got something here, Skipper. Not sure what it is. Small notebook and several letters, all in Arabic I'd guess, and a money belt with plenty of cash-U.S., Canadian, Peso notes, and a lot of dinars. It's all in a fancy briefcase that used to have a lock on it. Should I have Rafii take a look?”
”That's a roger, J.G.”
”Where are you, J.G.?” Rafii asked on the radio.
”Near the front, can't miss me.”
Murdock examined the crate that held the bomb. The nuke was completely hidden under boards and what he figured were lead blankets. The crate had been lashed down with cargo straps and heavy ropes, more than a dozen of them, from tie-down points on the floor and both of the side walls. Murdock checked the floor. The big box had slid forward more than four feet during the crash, even with the overkill on the tie-downs.
”At least it stayed on the sled,” Lam said. He had been checking out the cargo as well.
”Sled?” Murdock asked.
”It's on skids, the whole thing. We just hook up a small tractor to it and slide it up to the loading hatch.”
”Which is where?” Murdock asked.
Lam shone his flashlight to the stream side of the craft. There the door was three times as wide as the one on the left. Half of it had been torn away, the other half swung outward at an odd angle where it hung on only half its hinges. Murdock judged the distance. It was almost twenty feet from the front of the crate to the hatch.
”So where is our tractor?” he asked.
Lam laughed. ”h.e.l.l, Skipper, we've got sixteen little engines here who think they can. If you remember the little train story. Some air force guys I know said they sometimes had a problem with heavy items they parachuted out the end hatch of their planes. They carried a bucket of heavy grease with them and simply greased the front of the runners and then pushed and pulled like crazy. That was before they got rails and rollers and all that.”
”Let's cut these tie-down straps and see what we have,” Murdock said. ”Bradford. Find a spot and set up the box. We need to talk to Stroh.”
”Take me about five,” Bradford said on the net. ”I'll be outside the right-hand hatch.”
They undid some of the straps, cut others, and at last had the large crate free.
”Now, if we move this forward twenty feet, are we going to roll over this half of the aircraft?” Murdock asked. He and Lam went out the hatch and checked the way the big body had come to a stop against the side of the slope and the creek bed.
”This half of the fuselage won't move an inch without a lot of C-5,” Lam said. Murdock agreed.
”Skipper, I've got the mighty one on the set,” Bradford said on the Motorola. Murdock found Bradford and took the handset.
”Oh, Mighty One,” Murdock said.
”Enough. Did you find the package?”
”We've got it and one live prisoner to question. Problem is how to get it out of here. Can the SH-60 lift something this heavy?”
”How much does it weigh?”
”When is the Pope going to convert to Islam?”
”Been talking with the navy. We figure that the sixty can't do the job. Too d.a.m.n heavy, especially if they used a lot of lead blankets. So we've brought in a special helper for you. They call it the Skycrane. We borrowed one from the my army command in Miami. They call it the S-64. Skorsky builds it. It's flying in here tonight. You know what time it is?”
”No idea. After dark and before daylight.”
”Will that be a hot LZ?”
”Stroh, you pick up on the lingo fast. No, this should be a secure LZ. We think we contained all of the terrs in one place. Oh, when the crane comes in here at daylight, have him bring two five-gallon buckets of heavy industrial grease.”
”Grease?”
”Grease. We've got to get the package up to the cargo door.”
”Sounds reasonable. The SH-60 gave us the coordinates. This bird has all the equipment needed for a lift-the cables, the slings, the hooks, the works.”
”Where are they taking it?”
”First back to Benito Jurez Airport. We're making sure the officials there don't know what it is. Then wherever it goes is not my concern, or yours.”
”Right, it's out of our hands and we're done and heading back to San Diego, right?”
”Maybe, maybe not. We're working on something. First, who were the men helping what we understand was one Arab cohort of Fouad here in town? Oh, you haven't said anything about survivors. Did Fouad or any of the three crew members survive?”
”We don't think so. The nose of the plane is buried ten feet deep in a big pile of dirt. We haven't even looked at it yet. We don't know yet who the men were who helped Fouad's man. Rafii might have something for us on that. We found a notebook and a bunch of letters, all in Arabic. I'll touch you later.”
”Yeah. You guys do good work. Later.”
Murdock looked at his watch in the flashlight's beam. It was only 2240. He'd figured it was at least midnight.
”Skipper, you better get up here,” J.G. Gardner said. ”We're finding out some things.”
”Inside, forward?”
”Right.”
Fernandez had the prisoner in the front of the plane where the cargo bay had not been damaged much by the grenades. The prisoner sat on a box and stared at the side of the plane. Fernandez went first.
”Skipper, he says he's Jesus Orlando and he's only been with the group for six months. They call themselves the Toros Patriotico Nationales. They are dedicated to overthrowing the central government and setting up their own country here in central Mexico. Their leader was contacted two days ago to be ready for some action that would help the cause. This Arab man said he would contribute a million pesos to their war chest.”
”How did they know about the crash?”
”Their man at the airport told them, and they were gone an hour later in four medium-sized helicopters that the Arab man hired. They got here but found no survivors, and were waiting for a big helicopter to come and lift out the package. He doesn't know what is in the crate.”
”Is he wanted by the Mexican Federales?”