Free Countdown: M Day by Tom Kratman Page A

money to spread the Revolution. Admittedly, I do my not inconsiderable best to foster all that, be it playing baseball with Fidel back in ’99, slipping him a little oil, or providing a safe haven for FARC.
    Still, you would think that the absence of show trials, Gulags, reeducation camps and mass graves would tip them off. But nooo …
    The president shook his head with wonder, saying aloud, “They always miss that, while Bolivar is my hero, and his dreams are my dreams, his dreams—and mine—are not theirs .”
    Chavez mentally sneered. Like that idiotic Englishman who wrote that book. Couldn’t bring himself to realize the truth of the matter here. Had to write “socialistic nationalism,” instead of facing the truth. As if switching a couple of words around changes reality on the ground. And how the morons missed the parallels between my “failed” coup in ’92 and certain events in Munich, sixty-nine years before that …
    The sneer reached the president’s face, briefly.
    I am a firm believer that, while history may not repeat itself, it does rhyme and should rhyme, and only a fool fails to catch the meter of the piece.
    Never mind; first things first. And first I’ve got to ride out the currently crappy economy. Only then can I advance Bolivar’s dream, and my own. And to ride out the crappy economy, I still need to distract the people for a while.
    He sighed, and again speaking aloud, said, “And to that end, let’s see what the military has come up with …”
    Chavez unsealed and opened a brown folder—leather; only the best for the president, after all—and began to shuffle through the papers therein. These he sorted into stacks on his desk, mentally and physically classifying them: Operations Order—labeled “Renania,” Logistical Annex, Recruiting and Training, Air Movement Annex, Air Support Annex, Sea Movement Annex, all three of those last with their appendices, Naval Maintenance Upgrades and Aviation Maintenance Upgrades, plus the Intelligence Annex.
    It was to some extent a matter of personal taste, but Chavez, being a methodical sort, began with the Intelligence Annex. Only with that clear in his mind would operations or logistics make sense to him, or anyone, even as neither the air nor the sea scheme would make the slightest sense without logistic requirements being understood.
    Stacks of paper all properly ordered, he pulled out a writing pad and pen. Then he twisted his chair to place one arm close to the desk and cross the opposite leg over the thigh nearest the desk. With the Intelligence Annex in one hand, and pen in the other, he began jotting down notes and questions: “Enemy force, definite: One regular infantry battalion, poorly trained. Four reserve infantry companies, probably even less well trained. One artillery battery, which has not fired its guns in years. An engineer company. No real air force. No navy, to speak of. Probable: One brigade of mixed gringos and Guyanans, and a few others, elderly, well trained and equipped, with some air and some naval capability, but see terrain analysis. Possible: normally one regular gringo battalion, Army or Marines, undergoing jungle training.
    Hmmm, Chavez thought, let’s see whether our supporters and allies in Washington can be induced to not have that battalion in Guyana on the pertinent dates.
    He read some more, then wrote: United States: unlikely to interfere. Brazil: Unlikely to be concerned. Colombia … Chavez stopped writing a moment just to think.
    How do I take Colombia out of the equation for at least long enough? They’re also Latin and so unlikely to care too much about an English-speaking colony. But they know I’m an enemy and might use this as an excuse. Bribe FARC to do something really major to tie their army down? Bribe the Colombia government directly? If so, how? Money? I hardly enough to spare. Maybe an agreement to provide oil that I do have and that they can already barely afford, even at depressed