Free The Hamlet Warning by Leonard Sanders Page A

worried. “Where are you?” he asked.
    Loomis gave him the coordinates. “Get three birds into the old Navarez Plantation at daylight,” Loomis told him. “Bring Rodríguez’s men some ammo. I think the site will be clear, but they better check it out before they go in. They can hose it down with a gunship or two. Tell Colonel Escortia I suggest moving a company toward us from the capital along the road. They’ll find a burned weapons carrier where we were hit. There should be a plain trail for them to come in behind us.” 
    “El Jefe has ordered that the army not leave the capital in less than battalion strength,” Bedoya pointed out.
    “Well, Escortia can bring a whole fucking battalion, then,” Loomis said. “I don’t care. Right now we could use them.”
    “Hokay, Captain,” Bedoya said. “The cavalry is on the way. See you at daylight.”
    Loomis secured the radio. María Elena was watching him. “Why don’t you wave your pistol at Ramón?” she asked.
    “I plan to,” Loomis told her. “Just as soon as I get you people on that whirlybird.”
    The woods behind them were now silent. Loomis fought his inclination to turn back to find out what had happened. They moved on westward.
    After they had walked another mile, they began to hear intermittent firing again some distance behind. It continued off and on for the next two hours. From the sounds, Loomis estimated that Rodríguez was doing his job, harassing Ramón’s advance with occasional solid stands at strategic points, then retreating.
    Less than a mile away from the clearing Loomis heard two explosions. Claymores, or reasonable facsimiles, he guessed. Since Rodríguez wasn’t equipped with heavier weapons, Loomis feared the worst. After a breathless moment of silence, the night erupted into a sustained battle no more than a thousand yards away.
    Ramón obviously was making a determined effort to intercept them before they reached the landing zone.
    They arrived at the clearing thirty minutes before dawn. Loomis spread the soldiers in a close perimeter. He gathered the family in a shallow ditch where they lay flat, ready to make the dash to the helicopters.
    Then they waited.
    The gunfire to the rear hadn’t slackened perceptibly. Loomis was certain that Rodríguez would be running low on ammunition. He wondered how long he could hold out. They badly needed the help of the gunships.
    Loomis waited impatiently, often checking his watch. Then, through the canopy of trees to the east, he saw the first solid pink tinge of daylight. And no helicopters were in sight.
    The gunfire seemed to be growing nearer.
    Loomis moved to the radioman, knelt, and put through a call to Bedoya. “We’re here,” he said. “Where are the fucking birds?”
    “On the way, Captain,” Bedoya said. “Sorry we’re late. We’ve had some complications. Nothing serious. Just a small war.”
    Loomis had suspected that Ramón’s attempt to kidnap or kill the De la Torre family might be a part of a bigger plan. But he hadn’t allowed his mind to dwell on it.
    “The palacio ?” he asked.
    That, as his responsibility, was his first concern.
    “Safe so far,” Bedoya said. “We’ve only had terrorist stuff, but plenty of that. Sniping all over town, and satchel bombs. Some kind of plastic, C4, maybe. One at the main gate of the palacio . Another at the Palacio de la Policía. Two at armed forces headquarters. And another here and there. We’ve got about fifty dead and twice that many injured, probably.”
    “No solid fighting anywhere?”
    “Not in the distrito , unless snipers are trying to control some sections. But we’ve had reports of pitched battles in San Francisco de Macoris, and some activity in Santiago. Everything’s still sketchy.”
    “Escortia have help on the way here by road?”
    “If they don’t run into anything, they’ll be there within three hours. Escortia’s afraid of a trap — an ambush or mines. He has told them to take it slow and