"MOD just requested an MC- 130 from the First Special Ops Wing. They're chopping it to us, along with Malloy's helo. Evidently, there's a military airfield about twenty clicks from where we're going, and Whitehall is trying to get us cleared into it." And better yet, he didn't have to add, the Hercules transport could lift them right out of Hereford. "How fast can we get moving?"
"Less than an hour," Stanley replied after a second's consideration.
"Good, 'cuz that Herky Bird will be here in forty minutes or less. The crew's heading out to it right now."
"Listen up people," Chavez was saying half a klick away as he walked into the team's bay. "We got a job. Boots and saddles, people. Shag it."
They started moving at once for the equipment lockers before Sergeant Patterson raised the obvious objection: Ding, Team-1's the go-team. What gives?"
"Looks like they need us both for this ride, Hank. Everybody goes today."
"Fair 'nuff." Patterson headed off to his locker.
Their gear was already packed, always set up that way as a matter of routine. The mil-spec plastic containers were wheeled to the door even before the truck arrived to load them up.
Colonel Gamelin got the word before Captain Gassman did. The French Defense Minister called him directly to announce that a special-operations team was flying down at the request of the Spanish government, and would be there in three hours or less. He relayed this information to his people, somewhat to the chagrin of the Spanish police official, who then called his own minister in Madrid to inform him of what was happening, and it turned out that the minister was just getting the word from his own Foreign Ministry. Additional police were on the way, and their orders were to take no action beyond the establishment of a perimeter.Gassman's reaction to being whip-sawed was predictable disorientation, but he had his orders. Now with thirty of his cops on the scene or on the ay, he ordered a third of them to move inward, slowly and carefully, toward the castle on the surface, while two more did the same in the underground, with their weapons holstered or on safe, and with orders not to fire under any circumstances, an instruction more easily given than followed.
Things had come well to this point, Rene thought, and the park command center was better than anything he'd hoped for. He was learning to use the computer system to select TV cameras that seemed to cover the entire grounds, from the parking lots to the waiting areas for the various rides. The pictures were in black and white, and once a venue was selected he could zoom and pan the camera to find anything he wished. There were twenty monitors set on the walls of the office, each of them linked by a computer terminal to at least five cameras. Nobody would get close to the castle without his knowledge. Excellent.
In the secretaries' room just through the door, Andre had the children sitting on the floor in one tight little knot, except for the two in their wheelchairs, whom he'd placed against the wall. The children were uniformly wide-eyed and frightened-looking, as well they might be, and at the moment they were quiet, which suited him. He'd slung his submachine gun over his shoulder. It wasn't needed at the moment, was it?
"You will stay still," he told them in French, then backed to the door into the command center. "One," he called.
"Yes, Nine," Rene answered.
"Things are under control here. Time to make a call?"
"Yes," One agreed. He took his seat and picked up a phone, then examined the buttons, and finding a likely one, he pressed it.
"Yes?"
"Who is this?"
"I am Mike Dennis. I am managing director of the park."
"Bien, I am One, and I am now in command of your Worldpark."
"Okay, Mr. One. What do you want?"
"You have the police here?"
"Yes, they are here now."
"Good. I will speak with their commander then."
"Captain?" Dennis waved. Gassman took the three steps to his desk.
"I am Captain Dario Gassman of the Guardia Civil."
"I am One. I am in command. You know that I have taken over thirty hostages, yes?"
"Si, I am aware of this," the captain replied, keeping his voice as calm as circumstances allowed. He'd read books and had training on talking with hostage-holding terrorists, and now wished that he'd had a lot more of it. "Do you have a request for me?"
"I do not make requests. I will give you orders to be carried out at once, and have you relay orders to others. Do you understand?" Rene asked in English.
"Si, comprendo. "
"All of our hostages are French. You will establish a line of communication with the French embassy in Madrid. My orders are for them. Please keep in mind that none of our hostages are citizens of your country. This affair is between us and the French. Do you understand that?"
"Senor One, the safety of those children is my responsibility. This is Spanish soil."
"Be that as it may," One replied, "you will open a telephone link to the French embassy at once. Let me know when it is done."
