"Yes, you wiped them out," George agreed. "But we think they were only a decoy."

"What?" Blancanales demanded. "I can't believe that! They had rockets. They had planes and trucks. They..."

"And those black-nationalist freaks," Lyons added.

"The Iranians and crazies," Blancanales continued, "were an organized unit ready to go north and hit the President. When the trucks burned, I saw those rockets go-off."

"No doubt about it," Gadgets added. "They were the real thing."

"The real thing was in the Bekaa Valley," George said.

"In Lebanon?" Blancanales asked.

"Then turn the plane around!" Lyons shouted. "Forget Costa Rica..."

"Dastgerdi is in Nicaragua!" George spoke over Able Team. "Here!"

He pushed the slide-advance button, and the three men went quiet. A shoreline appeared on the screen: a wide, swampy river flowing into a bay sheltered by a long tongue of land; a line of hills overlooked the river and bay.

Docks and freighters filled the bay. A compound with roads, buildings and long rectangular warehouses lined the shore. Between the compound and the hills, a shantytown followed the wavering line of a creek.

"Finally," George whispered to Grimaldi in an aside. "Are these clowns actually professionals?"

"Only way to shut them up is to give them a target. It's your show. Take over." Grimaldi returned to the pilot's compartment.

George pointed to the harbor complex. "La Laguna de Perlas, Nicaragua. A major public-works project by the new people's government. Soviet freighters, Soviet floating docks, Soviet prefab warehouses, Soviet prefab barracks. Note the chain link and concertina wire enclosing the complex. Our sources report that no one enters or leaves without clearance. Our sources also report there are no — I repeat, no-workers from the surrounding villages. No local people. Only outsiders sent from Managua and ComBloc technicians."