Viper: A Thriller Read Free

transmission that was undetectable
and impossible to intercept, was bounced off an orbiting satellite and relayed to
the Phoenix op center at Palanquero Air Base.
    To limit
transmissions, he’d sent only one previous message earlier that afternoon. This
had been a detailed verbal description of the camp, using an alpha-numeric
system to provide distance between and dimensions of each structure. The US
Army Special Forces advisers at Palanquero then used this information to
produce a diagram of the camp for Captain Aguilar’s team.
    Avery waited for
the acknowledgement from the ops center. It came several seconds later:
“Avalanche.” The one word response meant that Operation Phoenix was given the
green light.
    Avery
disassembled the SATCOM unit, shutting off the radio, unplugging and collapsing
the antenna. It was now time to bid his time, since Operation Phoenix was to be
conducted at night, and make sure that Reyes didn’t leave the camp in the
meantime.
    Avery trained his
scope on the commandant’s shack, shifting occasionally to any movement that
caught his attention. In the event that Reyes made an abrupt departure, Avery’s
job was to send the transmission back to the ops room that would abort the
operation, and the helicopters would turn back. He didn’t anticipate this
happening. Reyes came here to meet with a senior SEBIN officer, and as far as
Avery knew, this person had not yet arrived at the camp. That was good. It ensured
that Reyes wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.
    The next six
hours were the slowest. That’s the length of time that passed before Avery
finally heard the rotors of the helicopters interrupt the silence of the night.
    The camp’s
inhabitants heard it, too. Avery spotted some of them looking up into the sky
and stepping out of their tents or shacks.
    The helicopters
swarmed on the camp. They’d flown in the whole way at low altitude, just barely
skimming over the top of the rainforest canopy at a hundred thirty miles per
hour to avoid detection by Venezuelan radar, and followed a course to avoid any
villages where natives could spot or hear the aircraft. In the dead of night,
the pilots relied on their night vision, terrain following radar, and FLIR pods.
    There was no
clear landing space for the Russian-manufactured, twin-turbine Mi-17 Hips to
set down and deploy their squads, so the AH-60L Arpia gunships came in first. These
are essentially an attack helicopter conversion of the American Blackhawk, developed
jointly by Colombia and Israel, armed with .50 caliber machine guns, anti-tank
missiles, and 70mm rockets.
    The AH-60s
strafed the camp with heavy machine gun fire, shredding any FARC militants in
sight. A barrage of 70mm rockets blasted the barracks compound, armory,
communications hut, and guard posts. Militants with RPGs appeared across the
killing ground but were quickly torn apart and taken down by the unyielding onslaught.
Only one FARC soldier was able to get off a shot, but the rocket propelled
grenade went wide, missing its target, and the man who fired it was instantly
pulverized by a stream of .50 caliber bullets and scattered messily across the
ground.
    The Mi-17 Hip
transports hovered fifty feet over the camp, one on the south end, another on
the east, while the Aprias covered them. Strands of thick and heavy black
braided rope, two inches thick in diameter, dropped from the open cabin doors
of each Hip. The Colombian special ops troops—clad in jungle camouflage, web
harnesses, and balaclavas, and armed with M16s or Israeli-made Galil rifles—began
to free fall the length of the ropes at thirty miles per hour. They dropped
without the use of descenders attached to the rope, using only their gloved
hands and feet to control their descent, slowing as they neared the ground. They
maintained a ten foot gap between each man on the ropes.
    Felix Aguilar
was the first man on the ground, as was his custom to lead from the front. He
sprinted several yards away from