situation,” Lyons said.
“THEY’RE ON THE FIFTH floor,” Schwarz said. “Room 519. There’s at least three of them in there but I think more like twice that.”
“Building materials?” Blancanales asked.
“Reinforced concrete for load-bearing structural, but only Sheetrock covered by wood between rooms. The doors have a lock, a single dead bolt and a security chain.”
“Windows?”
“Commercial variety. Set in the wall with no balcony. They open inward with a metal-clasp locking mechanism. The glass is set into four even quadrants of windowpane around standard molding and wood frames. High quality but not security level.”
“Wall penetration will be a problem with our weapons. Even the nine millimeters,” Lyons said.
“C-2 breaching charges on the door and shotguns with buckshot or breach-shot for the takedown?” Blancanales suggested.
“What’s security like in the hotel?”
“They have a Bolivian police officer out front armed with a pistol and a submachine gun. He liaisons with hotel private security, who have a heavy presence in the lobby and restaurant area. They make hourly passes through the guestroom halls. They all carry 9 mm side arms,” Schwarz answered. “I think we could get in and do the takedown. It’s getting out without slugging through security forces I’m doubtful of.”
“Position to snipe on the window?” Blancanales asked.
“Negative. The Inca Mall is across the street. Seventy-five thousand square feet. No defilade and no angle other than up-trajectory. Lousy for shooting.”
“Yes, but does it have frozen yogurt? You know how I feel about my frozen yogurt.” Blancanales laughed.
“That kind of exposure rules out rappelling down the outside, even if we could get to the roof.” Lyons rubbed at his beard, thoughtful.
“Bait and switch followed by a bum rush?” Schwarz suggested.
“How do we get out?” Blancanales countered.
Lyons smiled. “Schwarz, I’ll need you to find us a good covert LZ on the edge of the city, out toward the jungle, and pinpoint the GPS reading.”
“That’ll work. Depends on how fast Stony Man can get us a bird. This’ll have to be black from JSOC, and even from FBI. And fast. Very goddamn fast,” Blancanales said.
“Has Barb ever let us down yet?” Lyons asked.
SCHWARZ WALKED OUT of the hotel and dodged traffic as he crossed the busy street. Blancanales pulled out from the curb and met him as he crossed the median. Schwarz opened the passenger side door and slid into the seat.
“It’s a go,” he said.
“Good,” Lyons replied from the backseat of the vehicle. “Let’s do it.”
Driving quickly, the Stony Man team circumnavigated the luxury hotel and pulled into the parking lot of the urban mall, quickly losing themselves among the acres of parking for up to 1,500 vehicles. A State Department courier with no association to the mission would pick up the vehicle ten minutes after Able Team left the area.
Over the horizon, in the hot Bolivian night, Jack Grimaldi was already inbound in an AH-6J Little Bird attack helicopter. The clock had started running on a tightly scheduled and overtly aggressive Able Team operation. Dressed in street clothes under colorful regional ponchos, the men moved quickly toward their objective.
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