Bull Womack heard the shuffling of feet on the scratchy carpet outside his door. Every sense he had honed through decades of military service told Bull that there was a man standing there, waiting. It wasn't just the man's heavy, stilted breathing that gave him away, but a certain weightfulness to the air that one only feels when a trained body realizes, consciously or not, that someone else is there.
It was that weightfulness that Bull hated about the presence of others. There was no possible way he could enjoy a cigar in an oppressive environment like that.
Go away, you bastard. Bull thought, his lips moving with the words.
And there it was. A short knock, three quick raps.
Bull was silent. His left was was still in his desk drawer, digging from matches, while his right a cigar that looked so packed with tobacco that it was ready to burst.
Three more raps. "Chief Womack?" The voice was too soft, too diffident to be a man. It was a teenager, maybe 18. Probably not. The Peruvian Armed Forces seemed to be using whatever they could get lately.
"Yes?" Bull replied, after another set of knocks. There was another hesitation of a few seconds, then the door slowly opened and the soldier slipped in. True to Bull's reading, the man was hardly that, with an innocent face on which a light, fuzzy beard was just starting to grow. He shook slightly, and didn't look Bull in the eyes. Opening one of the folders he held, he began reading to Bull.
"Sir, we have a report from Major Ortiz. He says that the operation in Lucanas was a success, and the Shining Path commander has been eliminated." The man delivered the news in English with a heavy accent. Each word was deliberate and heavy, obviously awkward on the boy's lips.
Bull nodded slowly. "Of course. I had no doubt Major Ortiz would be successful. He's a resourceful man."
"Yes, sir, but...there's something else." The man looked down and began reading again, "The Shining Path left behind most of their military equipment in their flight. Major Ortiz officially requests reinforcements due to the nature of the opportunity and–"
"Yes, of course, we'll send some teams down to pick through their bases sometime later. Tell Major Ortiz his new orders are to–"
"Sir, but–" The man said, and, despite his words barely being audible under Bull's booming voice, Bull stopped speaking. He stared at the man, who suddenly had a look as if he had been slapped.
"Yes, Private? You interrupted me?
"Sir, yes, but, sir, the report says," the man stammered a few times in English, spoke a word in Spanish, then dropped one of his folders, spilling papers all over the office floor.
Bull stood up. He towered over the man, even from behind his desk.
"The report says what, Private?"
"It says, uh, that the MRTA is moving to secure the supplies themselves. They'll have forces there within the hour."
Bull smiled. For the first time in a while, he smiled. Finally, the cowards were showing themselves. The temptation was too much to bear. For communists, their greed was incorrigible. The Shining Path was dangerous, yes, but they were animals. They had to be put down just like any other rabid thing, yes, but there was never any question that eventually they would be. The MRTA was different. It was organized. It had foreign suppliers – the U.S.S.R., Cuba. They were an actual force that had to be confronted intelligently. Bull had been waiting for this fight for a very long time.
He walked over to his coat rack. The Private was standing, frozen facing the desk.
"You been in a fight yet, Private?"
There was no need for him to answer. Of course he hasn't. Not yet. He didn't have the look yet.
"Tell 2nd and 3rd battalions to suit up and be ready to move on the double. We're going commie hunting."
There was no need to ask if they were going to seek General Aguirre's permission – the General knew that it was his job to give permission to whatever the CIA wanted. As the Chief of Station for the CIA in Peru, Womack effectively ran the country's counter-terrorism efforts.
As Womack swung on his overcoat, the Private fled the room to deliver his orders. Soon, a battery of Peruvian soldiers would be moving south at his command, ready to lay their lives on the line to fight communism. He would join one of the jeeps of the advanced scouting party and meet with Major Ortiz, and together they would blunt any offensive the MRTA could throw at them. It was looking like at the end of the day there would be a lot of dead commies, and if Bull had any luck he might even get to shoot a few himself.
It's good to be an American. Bull thought as he slammed the office door behind him and began walking down the hallway, receiving salutes from every soldier he passed.
It was that weightfulness that Bull hated about the presence of others. There was no possible way he could enjoy a cigar in an oppressive environment like that.
Go away, you bastard. Bull thought, his lips moving with the words.
And there it was. A short knock, three quick raps.
Bull was silent. His left was was still in his desk drawer, digging from matches, while his right a cigar that looked so packed with tobacco that it was ready to burst.
Three more raps. "Chief Womack?" The voice was too soft, too diffident to be a man. It was a teenager, maybe 18. Probably not. The Peruvian Armed Forces seemed to be using whatever they could get lately.
"Yes?" Bull replied, after another set of knocks. There was another hesitation of a few seconds, then the door slowly opened and the soldier slipped in. True to Bull's reading, the man was hardly that, with an innocent face on which a light, fuzzy beard was just starting to grow. He shook slightly, and didn't look Bull in the eyes. Opening one of the folders he held, he began reading to Bull.
"Sir, we have a report from Major Ortiz. He says that the operation in Lucanas was a success, and the Shining Path commander has been eliminated." The man delivered the news in English with a heavy accent. Each word was deliberate and heavy, obviously awkward on the boy's lips.
Bull nodded slowly. "Of course. I had no doubt Major Ortiz would be successful. He's a resourceful man."
"Yes, sir, but...there's something else." The man looked down and began reading again, "The Shining Path left behind most of their military equipment in their flight. Major Ortiz officially requests reinforcements due to the nature of the opportunity and–"
"Yes, of course, we'll send some teams down to pick through their bases sometime later. Tell Major Ortiz his new orders are to–"
"Sir, but–" The man said, and, despite his words barely being audible under Bull's booming voice, Bull stopped speaking. He stared at the man, who suddenly had a look as if he had been slapped.
"Yes, Private? You interrupted me?
"Sir, yes, but, sir, the report says," the man stammered a few times in English, spoke a word in Spanish, then dropped one of his folders, spilling papers all over the office floor.
Bull stood up. He towered over the man, even from behind his desk.
"The report says what, Private?"
"It says, uh, that the MRTA is moving to secure the supplies themselves. They'll have forces there within the hour."
Bull smiled. For the first time in a while, he smiled. Finally, the cowards were showing themselves. The temptation was too much to bear. For communists, their greed was incorrigible. The Shining Path was dangerous, yes, but they were animals. They had to be put down just like any other rabid thing, yes, but there was never any question that eventually they would be. The MRTA was different. It was organized. It had foreign suppliers – the U.S.S.R., Cuba. They were an actual force that had to be confronted intelligently. Bull had been waiting for this fight for a very long time.
He walked over to his coat rack. The Private was standing, frozen facing the desk.
"You been in a fight yet, Private?"
There was no need for him to answer. Of course he hasn't. Not yet. He didn't have the look yet.
"Tell 2nd and 3rd battalions to suit up and be ready to move on the double. We're going commie hunting."
There was no need to ask if they were going to seek General Aguirre's permission – the General knew that it was his job to give permission to whatever the CIA wanted. As the Chief of Station for the CIA in Peru, Womack effectively ran the country's counter-terrorism efforts.
As Womack swung on his overcoat, the Private fled the room to deliver his orders. Soon, a battery of Peruvian soldiers would be moving south at his command, ready to lay their lives on the line to fight communism. He would join one of the jeeps of the advanced scouting party and meet with Major Ortiz, and together they would blunt any offensive the MRTA could throw at them. It was looking like at the end of the day there would be a lot of dead commies, and if Bull had any luck he might even get to shoot a few himself.
It's good to be an American. Bull thought as he slammed the office door behind him and began walking down the hallway, receiving salutes from every soldier he passed.