"He wants us to hit that base." Lyons took the map and studied it. "Maybe he thinks we'll try to infiltrate. Use him to get inside..."

"No!" Gadgets interrupted. "You try any shit trick like that, you're going alone."

"Not smart, Ironman." Blancanales shook his head at the thought of an assault on the Mexican army installation.

Vato spoke. "In three days, I could gather fifty men and women with rifles."

Miguel Coral nodded. "I have many friends in Sonora and Sinaloa. We could gather all those who hate..."

"No!" Gadgets cut the discussion. "No talk. No plans. I don't even want to think about it."

Lyons looked to the group of men. "Notice he didn't say anything about Mexico City? Nothing at all. Not a word."

"He talked about New York and Washington," Blancanales said.

"But nothing about Mexico City," Lyons insisted. "A gang of millionaire fascists, with private armies everywhere in Central and South America, starts a billion-dollar-a-month heroin operation in Mexico. They wipe out or take over the Mexican drug gangs. They set up their own military base. They use corrupt politicians and corrupt army officers. An emergency comes along and they've got help flying in from Mexico City the next day. But our prisoner tells us the leaders run the operation from New York and Washington. Maybe if he'd said Miami, I'd almost believe him. But he didn't."

"Mexico City is big," Blancanales cautioned. "The biggest city in the world. I doubt if the offices of the Fascist International will be listed in the phone book.''

"This is it." Lyons pointed to the map of Rancho Cortez. We can go up against this army base..."

"No!" Gadgets interrupted again.

Lyons continued. "Hundreds of soldiers, reinforcements arriving all the time, a double security perimeter with all kinds of surprises, helicopters, planes, heavy weapons, napalm..."