TAPE DETAILS ATTACK ON MISSIONARY PLANE

Latin America: Inquiry Reveals That Language Problems, Procedural Errors By
Cia Crew And Peruvian Military Contributed To Accident.

WASHINGTON -- The tiny white Cessna soars gently over the endless expanse
of jungle, silhouetted by heavy gray clouds above and shining sinews of the
mighty Amazon River far below.

But the single-engine float plane, carrying three American Baptist
missionaries and two children, also is targeted in the cross hairs of an
infrared video camera mounted beneath a CIA-contract surveillance jet
searching for drug runners in Peru.

The video is reality television at its most chilling: After 45 minutes of
often-appalling confusion and misinformation -- compounded by the
three-member CIA civilian crew speaking broken Spanish to an
often-uncomprehending Peruvian liaison officer on board -- an accompanying
Peruvian A-37 fighter jet is ordered to shoot down the plane. "They're
killing me! They're killing us!" missionary pilot Kevin Donaldson suddenly
shouts over the radio in Spanish.

Flying 1 1/2 miles behind, the unidentified CIA aircraft commander realizes
the mistake. He shouts frantically for the interceptor to stop firing. The
American co-pilot simultaneously shouts in English and Spanish: "No! Don't
shoot! No mas! No mas!"

It is too late. Smoke pours from the Cessna as it plummets toward the river.

"God," the CIA pilot mutters softly.

The A-37 pilot finally gets the message. "Roger. We're terminating. He's on
fire," he radios calmly in Spanish. A moment later: "He won't make it; he
won't make it. I think his wings caught fire."

And then, as the bullet-riddled plane hits the Amazon in a plume of white
spray, the A-37 pilot adds: "He's already in the water; they're jumping
out. Their engine is on fire. . . . They're all jumping out."

Then: "The whole plane is on fire. It's sinking."

The video, gripping transcript and a fact-finding report were released by
the State Department on Thursday as part of a joint U.S.-Peruvian
investigation into the April 20 accident, which claimed the lives of
Veronica Bowers of the Assn. of Baptists for World Evangelism and her
recently adopted 7-month-old daughter, Charity. Donaldson suffered bullet
wounds; Bowers' husband, James, and 6-year-old son, Cory, were uninjured.

The report assigns no blame but makes clear that both Lima and Washington
have increasingly ignored parts of a 1994 joint agreement that set strict
procedures for the airborne anti-narcotics program.

On Thursday, a legal consultant to the Peruvian air force said the two
Peruvian pilots who shot down the plane will be tried in military court for
crimes committed while carrying out orders.

Abraham Ramirez said investigators are still trying to determine the
specific charges. The pilots--a major and a lieutenant--have not been named.

No disciplinary action has been taken against anyone who was in the CIA
surveillance plane or command-and-control centers taking part from military
ground stations in Peru and Key West, Fla., officials said.

Similar U.S.-led airborne radar surveillance of drug-trafficking regions
along the Peru-Colombia border have been suspended pending a National
Security Council review.

Despite the suspension, "the information we have does not indicate an
upsurge" of drug flights in the area, said Rand Beers, an assistant
secretary of State who headed the U.S. side of the investigation.

Beers said drug runners have learned to use ground routes and ships over
the last five years to avoid the anti-narcotics flights that have downed at
least 38 suspected drug planes and led to 22 deaths, including those of
Bowers and her daughter.

The language in the investigative report is diplomatic but damning nonetheless.

It concludes that implementation of the U.S.-Peru operating agreement
"became less detailed and explicit" as time went on. Joint training of air
crews similarly "utilized an abbreviated set of procedures" without
authorization.

Thus, the Peruvian officer sought and received orders from his superiors to
shoot down the suspect plane before anyone had checked the plane's
identifying tail number. "It was not clear who was responsible for
identifying the tail number or when," Beers said.

And the report cites the "language limitations" of the Peruvian and
American participants. The Americans are not required to speak Spanish,
Beers said, and the Peruvian liaison clearly wasn't fluent in English.

As a result, the transcript may be misleading, Beers warned. "Even if you
hear a 'yes,' it doesn't mean that person understood what was said," he
explained.

Indeed, the sequence would be comical in places if not for the resulting
tragedy. The Americans joke about where they are, repeatedly curse out
ground commanders on their intercom and correct one another's pidgin Spanish.

Flying a routine drug surveillance mission, the CIA-run Citation's radar
first detects the missionary plane at 9:40 a.m., heading from Brazil toward
Peru. The Peruvian liaison officer on board soon radios his command post at
Pucallpa to see if the plane had filed a flight plan. None is found.

At 10:04, the Citation pilot asks the Peruvian in apparent surprise if an
A-37 interceptor has taken off. Moments later, the American pilot expresses
his first doubt. "We have not declared it suspect," he says. "I'm a little
nervous about this."

He radios the American ground commander in Pucallpa. But after a brief
discussion, the pilot decides that he won't fly up to see the plane's
identifying tail number. "The problem is . . . if he's dirty and he detects
us, he makes a right turn immediately [across the border] and we can't
chase him."

"Roger that . . . I would stay covert for the time being and let's see what
the A-37s do," comes the reply.

Moments later, with the A-37 already aloft, the American pilot warns the
Peruvian liaison on the intercom: "See, I don't know if this is bandito or
it's amigo, OK." Maybe the plane will land, the pilot adds. "OK. Before
brrrr, you know." making the sound of a machine gun.

According to the report, the Peruvian "did not understand this message."

By 10:17, the pilot tells the co-pilot that the Cessna's high altitude and
steady course don't match the profile of a drug runner. He repeats his
doubts several times throughout the flight.

"From then on, attempts by both the U.S. crew of the Citation and the
[Peruvian liaison] to understand what each was trying to say about the
intercepted aircraft were not understood because of the stressful situation
and language problems prevailing on board," the report says.

Under a three-phase process, the Peruvian air force is supposed to radio
the suspect aircraft first. The liaison does so for the first time at
10:36. He orders the Cessna to head immediately for Pucallpa. "If you do
not obey, we will go ahead and shoot you down," he warns in Spanish on a
VHF channel.

But Donaldson, the missionary pilot, is using HF radio, which has a longer
range, so he can communicate with his wife at the mission center. The
missionaries hear nothing from the Citation, nor do they hear three radio
calls from the A-37.

At 10:40, the Peruvians move to Phase 2: the A-37 fires two bursts of
warning shots, including tracers. But the jet fires from behind at an
upward angle and the missionaries don't see the shots.

A minute later, the Peruvian officer is informed that the commanding air
force general in Lima has authorized Phase 3: attack.

At virtually the same time, the Citation pilot again tells the liaison
officer in English that the Cessna is not trying to escape. "What." comes
the confused reply.

At 10:45, the liaison authorizes the A-37 gunner to fire. "I think we're
making a big mistake," the U.S. pilot says softly on the intercom. Three
minutes later, the Cessna is down.