December 31, 1995, Michoacán State.
The leaden gray clouds hung low, shrouding the mountains in a gloomy haze.
At a military airport somewhere on the state border, the air was filled with the scent of aviation fuel and the impending mountain rain.
Four pilots in heavy flight suits, with helmets tucked under their arms, marched in step toward the tarmac. The squadron leader stopped in the shadows of the hangar, looking up at the overcast sky.
"Today is the last day of the year.
He murmured, his voice almost drowned out by the distant roar of engines, "Let's send those 'Traditional Guardians' in the mountains a New Year's gift."
On the tarmac, four modified C-130 transport planes were lined up neatly, with ground crew refueling them with Agent Orange.
Massive metal tanks glinted coldly inside the aircraft, with fuel hoses snaking beneath the wings.
