15 held years in Colombia are freed

BOGOTA, Colombia - Colombian spies tricked leftist rebels into handing over kidnapped presidential candidate Ingrid Betancourt and three U.S. military contractors yesterday in a daring helicopter rescue so successful that not a single shot was fired.

Betancourt, 46, who was seized on the campaign trail six years ago, appeared thin but healthy as she strode down the stairs of a military plane and held her mother in a long embrace. She said she still aspired to the presidency.

"God, this is a miracle," she said. "Such a perfect operation is unprecedented."

The Americans - Marc Gonsalves, 36, a native of Bristol, Conn.; Thomas Howes, 54, of Merritt Island, Fla.; and Keith Stansell, 43, of Colquitt, Ga. - had been the longest-held U.S. hostages in the world. They were flown directly to the United States to reunite with their families and undergo tests and treatment at Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas.

Eleven Colombian police and soldiers were also freed in the rescue, the most serious blow ever dealt to the 44-year-old Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC, which considered Betancourt and the three Americans their most valuable bargaining chips. The FARC is already reeling from the deaths of key commanders and the loss of much of the territory it once held.

Defense Minister Juan Manuel Santos said military intelligence agents infiltrated the guerrilla ranks and led the local commander in charge of the hostages, alias Cesar, to believe they were going to take them to Alfonso Cano, the guerrillas' supreme leader.

The hostages, divided into three groups, were taken to a rendezvous where two disguised MI-17 helicopters piloted by Colombian military agents were waiting. Betancourt said her hands and feet were bound, which she called "humiliating."

At first she thought the pilots were from a relief group. Then she saw their Che Guevara shirts and assumed they were rebels. Only when they were airborne did she notice that Cesar, who had treated her cruelly for so many years, was naked and blindfolded on the floor.

"The chief of the operation said: 'We're the national army. You're free,' " she said. "The helicopter almost fell from the sky because we were jumping up and down, yelling, crying, hugging one another. We couldn't believe it."

The operation, Santos said, "will go into history for its audacity and effectiveness."

"We wanted to have it happen as it did today," added the armed forces chief, Gen. Freddy Padilla. ". . . Absolutely safe and sound, without a scratch."

Although officials said all those directly involved in the rescue were Colombians, U.S. Ambassador William Brownfield said there was "close cooperation" from the Americans that included the exchange of intelligence, equipment and training advice.

Santos said Cesar and another rebel on board would face justice. The other rebel captors retreated into the jungle, he said, and the army let them escape "in hopes that they will free the rest of the hostages," believed to number about 700.

At a Bogota ceremony with top military commanders, the freed hostages walked to a microphone one by one, identified themselves by name and rank, and thanked their rescuers. Some had been held for a dozen years, captured when rebels overran military outposts.

Last to speak was the French-Colombian Betancourt, who wore military fatigues and a floppy camouflage hat as she hugged her mother, Yolanda Pulecio, and her husband, Juan Carlos LeCompte. She removed her hat to reveal intricately braided hair.

Breaking into tears, Betancourt appealed to the FARC to release the remaining hostages and make peace.

In Paris, her son Lorenzo Delloye-Betancourt called her release "the most beautiful news of my life." He and other relatives were flying to Colombia to join her.

The Americans appeared healthy in a video shown on Colombian television, though Brownfield, who met with them at a provincial military base, said two of the three were suffering from the jungle malady leishmaniasis and "looking forward to modern medical treatment."

Gonsalves' father, George, was mowing his yard in Hebron, Conn., when an excited neighbor relayed the news he had seen on television: "I didn't know how to stop my lawn mower. I was shocked. I couldn't believe it."

President Bush, who a spokesman said was kept apprised of the rescue planning, and French President Nicolas Sarkozy congratulated Colombian President Alvaro Uribe. Sarkozy had vigorously sought Betancourt's release.

Santos renewed the government's offer to negotiate with the reeling rebel movement. Battlefield losses and widespread desertions have cut rebel numbers in half to about 9,000 as the United States has poured billions in military aid into Colombia.

In March, historic leader Manuel Marulanda died, reportedly of a heart attack, and two other top commanders were killed. The rest are hunkered down in remote jungle and mountain hideouts.

Santos said Colombia had infiltrated the rebels' seven-man ruling secretariat but did not elaborate.

Betancourt, a brash candidate whose style had angered both leftist rebels and Colombia's entrenched political class, was abducted in February 2002. The Americans, employees of a Northrop Grumman subsidiary, were captured a year later when their drug-surveillance plane went down in rebel-held jungle.

Since their abduction, the men's families had received only two "proof of life" videos, the latest in November.

That tape also showed the first images since 2003 of Betancourt. Along with letters and reports from other hostages, they showed a once-vibrant woman slowly succumbing to hepatitis B, tropical skin diseases and depression. One former hostage said Betancourt was kept chained to a tree after trying to escape.