The Black Hawk helicopter, like a large bird, soared over the jungle canopy at an altitude of just a few dozen meters above the ground.
Such a low altitude was chosen to allow the machine gunners on board to get a clearer view of the ground situation.
The jungle was dense with trees that provided good cover for those on the ground, which significantly increased the difficulty of aerial searches.
For the past two days, helicopters had been continuously circling above this area without any pause.
Currently, all AGLAN troops were fully deployed, with five companies all engaged in the Tame Region of Arauca Province, spreading out in small groups across the boundless jungle, staunchly guarding every pass and corridor leading to the Andes Mountains.
According to Freddie's operational intent, the goal was to form an iron bucket formation, trapping the two important escapees from the ELN camp within the mountains until they surrendered.
However, two days had passed, and aside from the helicopters consuming a vast amount of aviation fuel, Lieutenant Colonel Freddie had not gained any results.
All the reports from the teams claimed that they hadn't detected any trace of the targets.
Inside the command tent located in the outskirts of Tame, Lieutenant Colonel Freddie looked at the military map pinned to a wooden board inside the tent, his gaze traveling from east to west, from south to north, thoroughly checking over his iron bucket formation for any flaws. Only after reassuring himself did he settle back at his desk, lit a cigar, and allowed the smoke to enshroud him.
"Sir!"
A staff officer entered the tent and saluted Freddie.
"The helicopter squadron is calling to ask about tonight's patrol plan."
"Have you guys finalized it?" Freddie asked in return.
The staff officer nodded, "This is the plan we've drafted, sir. Take a look, and if there's no problem, I'll send it to the pilots right now."
Freddie took the patrol schedule and skimmed through it.
It was a six-page document.
It was filled with details for tonight's patrol times, routes, and area responsibilities for the 10 helicopters.
Every day, AGLAN's staff departments drafted a plan based on the day's developments, which was then reviewed by Freddie before being finalized and sent to the combat units.
The problem was that for the past two days, the teams sent into the jungle had provided no feedback at all, resulting in no changes to the aerial patrol plans—they were the same as the previous day's.
"Let it be, send it out," Freddie said with some lack of enthusiasm, casually handing the schedule back.
The staff officer picked up the plan, hesitated for a moment, and then turned back to Freddie, "Sir, why don't we start closing in?"
Freddie lifted his head to look at his subordinate, then shook his head, "Wait, we're waiting for someone."
"The American?"
It seemed the staff officer understood something.
Freddie didn't answer but just gestured with his hand, "Go on and send out the patrol plan, don't delay tonight's patrol."
"Yes, sir!"
The staff officer saluted and left.
But as he walked out of the tent, his mind was still troubled with unresolved questions.
From the first day, the combat teams had arrived; these team members were experts in jungle warfare.
They could have adopted an encircling search pattern, squeezing from all directions toward the center, steadily shrinking the enemy's operating area to flush out the two hidden individuals.
If they dared to show themselves, or if any team apprehended them, the members of the airborne squad could then quickly fly to the site of contact via helicopters and swiftly rappel down.
In doing so, the enemy could not escape, as if trapping fish by enclosing the waters with a net and slowly drawing it in, ensuring no fish slipped away.
Yet, for these two days, his superior had been inactive.
Now, it seemed the media had caught wind of something; there were already reports on the television that a military operation being carried out by the military in the Tame region had encountered resistance. At present, the Special Forces had mobilized an entire company to work in coordination with an Army battalion, casting a wide net in the jungle as if they were pursuing and encircling some important target.
At the edge of the operation zone, it was now in lockdown mode, with all personnel entry and exit prohibited. According to the reports from the control forces, journalists had appeared outside the operation area, trying to get inside.
As a military unit, the staff actually despised those media journalists.
In their eyes, there was nothing but news and ratings, and nothing else mattered.
The presence of journalists always managed to spoil a military operation that was otherwise going well. Their cameras often carelessly captured footage that couldn't be revealed to the public, which they would then brazenly broadcast on television under the pretext of press freedom, putting the military in a passive position.
If things went on like this, the truth was bound to come out eventually.
Based on analysis over the past two days, it seemed that the ELN armed forces were unaware that Morins was still alive.
This was deduced from the movement of their forces in the northeastern border area.
Morins had been on the run in the jungle for two days now. If the ELN had known he was alive, they would definitely have launched attacks in other areas, or even taken hostages such as officials to blackmail the military, making them hesitant to use lethal force on Morins. Even if they captured him, negotiations would likely take place in exchange for the hostages.
Yet, for the past few days, there had been no signs of movement from the ELN forces—calm as still water, smooth as flying in the sky.
Later, based on confessions from prisoners in the camp and communications equipment seized on-site, it seemed that Morins had not carried any means of communication when he escaped. In other words, the ELN armed forces had no idea that Morins was still alive!
This was a golden opportunity to capture Morins.
And yet, his own superior, Lieutenant Colonel Freddie, didn't seem eager to close the net, still waiting for the American ODA team to arrive and help.
An ODA team consisted of only 12 people, and though the staff thought highly of them,
No matter how elite, what could a team of just 12 people achieve?
If they missed the window provided by the ELN's lack of information, and journalists caught wind of anything, publishing it in newspapers or on television, the situation would deteriorate rapidly. It was almost predictable that, to save Morins, the ELN would not only organize armed forces for a rescue mission in the jungles of the Tame Region but would also launch frenzied attacks everywhere to pressure the military into retreat.
Over the years of dealing with the anti-government armed forces, such situations had become all too common, almost a rule of thumb for those militants.
Suddenly, a Mi-17 helicopter appeared over the forward command post.
The staff looked up into the sky, squinting against the gusts from the propellers.
He hurriedly ran to one side, standing under a tree and watching the helicopter.
Not far away from the tent, Lieutenant Colonel Freddie also emerged.
The helicopter landed, the cabin door opened, and out stepped a team of soldiers dressed like US Army Special Forces, led by an officer who was actually a colonel.
The staff was familiar with these men.
These were the Americans that his immediate superior, Lieutenant Colonel Freddie, was willing to waste 48 precious hours of the manhunt waiting for.
They were also the Americans who had jointly trained with the Colombian Military Special Forces and were responsible for the professional training of the AGLAN forces in mountain and jungle warfare.
They could be considered the backbone instructors and teachers of the AGLAN forces.
"Colonel! You've finally arrived!"
Freddie welcomed him like a long-lost family member, his face beaming with relief.
But Colonel James was visibly angry, cursing, "Those bureaucrats at the Pentagon are always so damn slothful. I wanted to fly over the very first day but had to wait two whole days just for approvals!"
The two shook hands and then Lieutenant Colonel Freddie led the group towards the large tent.
As they walked, James spoke with undeniable arrogance on his face, "Lieutenant Colonel, I hope this urgent situation you've invited me to handle is worth the special request to the Pentagon! I've seen the information you provided. That Morins is a rookie in combat, and that Chinese might have some skills, but did it really require us to come all the way personally?!"
"Colonel, to kill five of our unit's backbone, two of whom were excellent graduates you personally trained in AGLAN, and we haven't seen a trace of these two despite our helicopters flying non-stop for two days," Freddie explained. "I have this strange pressure — that Chinese is not to be messed with!"
James looked at him with disdain, even thinking Freddie was a coward, completely spooked.
He thought to himself that the annual joint training with the Colombian Special Forces had been going on for three years, and they still couldn't hold their ground.
"Lieutenant Colonel, you look like a greenhorn who's just enlisted! Don't worry, within 48 hours I'll flush them out. Have your staff team come to the command post and see how my men handle this kind of jungle manhunt. Consider it a free lesson, ah, out of respect for God and our alliance!"