shot it with a missile. On my FLIR display I saw the object as it began to sink, and after it did, Weed — that is, Commander Hopper — strafed the water where it went down. Then I left.”
“How do you know it was Weed?”
“He was ahead of me on the cat. And, when my wingman went down, I had time on my hands and decided to follow him. We’ve been friends for years, and I wanted to see what kind of tests he was doing with the Fire Scout.” Wilson paused as he looked at CAG. “I now think I know.”
CAG took a few steps and sat down in a chair on the other side of the table. “Do you know we are at war?”
Wilson let the words sink in. “Yes, sir, several of them ongoing. If we’d just win one, we could lower that number.” CAG Matson let Wilson’s sarcasm pass.
“We are at war down here. Remember the war on drugs?”
“Yes, sir, been going on 20–25 years, I think.”
“Are we winning?” CAG asked.
“Not from what I can see.”
“Well, we’re trying to. Mongo, go ahead.”
Mongo, still standing, placed an open folder on the table in front of Wilson. Inside was a nondisclosure agreement.
“Commander Wilson, you are being read-in to a special access program that involves restricted information. You are being read-in as a ‘need-to-know’ as a result of a breach of operational security during the normal course of your duties. The information you are about to receive is classified TOP SECRET NOFORN, SCI, and will remain so until rescinded by controlling authority. Do you understand, sir?”
“Yes,” Wilson answered Mongo with a frown.
“This classification level has no expiration date and will remain in effect after you leave the service and until your death. Do you understand this, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Please sign and date.”
As CAG watched, Wilson took his pen, scanned the agreement, and signed his name at the bottom. They heard a knock on the door, and Mongo cracked it open to see who it was. He then opened it to allow Weed to step inside. Wilson’s eyes remained on Weed as he walked around the table and pulled out a chair next to CAG. When Weed sat down, he made eye contact with Wilson.
“Kemosabe.”
Wilson glared at him.
“Sorry to give you a start as you were coming back home. How was your pass?”
Wilson’s eyes narrowed. “If Paddles can find me, I’ll get a debrief — if I ever get out of here,” he said, trying to mask his disgust. CAG took over.
“Jim, here’s the deal. The United States is engaged in a covert program to stem the flow of illegal narcotics from South and Central America. Smugglers are using air, surface, and, as you saw today,