Manuel Noriega, the Commanding Officer of the Panamanian Defense Forces and the
Maximum Leader of the Republic of Panama, was sopping drunk. Noriega had recently adopted
the practice of Winston Churchill by starting his day off with a glass of whiskey and soda,
followed by more whiskey sodas throughout the day. Noriega had skipped the soda. The
Panamanian dictator fancied himself a great man like Winston Churchill, after all he had
ascended through the ranks of the Panamanian military through political cunning and subterfuge
and had grasped the highest rung of political power in Panama. He had spent the last 20 years manipulating the United States, playing the agencies of the yanquis against each other to ensure his political survival. After the yanquis had indicted him on drug trafficking charges, he had further cemented his alliance with the Colombian drug cartels, the Nicaraguan Sandinistas, and Cuba. Noriega felt steadfast in opposing the yanquis, but most of all on this night he felt horny. He called for one of his mistresses, Gloria, a buxom woman estranged from her husband. He arranged for a night at his suite in the officer’s quarters near Tocumen Air Base, part of the Torrijos international airport complex 18 miles east of Panama City. 500 feet above Tocumen Airbase Lieutenant Colonel Robert Wagner, commander of 1st
Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment stood crouched in the door of the C-141 Starlifter. Behind his
aircraft were 11 other C-141s and 4 C-130s carrying his 730 Rangers and equipment. Their
objective would be to neutralize the 2nd PDF Rifle Company and any other armed resistance in
the Tocumen-Torrijos complex and secure the perimeter against counterattack from enemy
reinforcements. All in 43 minutes. This was one of 27 attacks on targets across Panama to
decapitate the Noriega regime without overwhelming casualties to ensure a smooth transition of
power, protect American citizens and interests in the region, and deliver Noriega to DEA agents for arrest. Wagner looked ahead and saw bright stabs of light and columns of fire in Panama City
and knew the element of surprise was lost. He cast his attention back down to the airport
complex and saw the AC-130 Spectre Gunship work over the airport and surrounding defensive
positions. The airfield was doused in darkness as the Spectre destroyed the airport’s power supply. The red light in Wagner’s peripheral vision changed to green and he threw himself out of
the aircraft into the night.
The Rangers reorganized and skirmished forward to their objectives. Noriega’s head
bodyguard, Captain Ivan Castillo, roused Noriega and jammed him in the backseat of the white
Hyundai they had been using to disguise the General’s movements from the yanqui CIA, NSA,
and Delta commandos. Noriega’s bodyguards mounted a Toyota Landcruiser to escort. Castillo
looked to the back seat, hoping that the general would be able to direct him to his planned escape route. Instead, Castillo saw Noriega in the back seat swaying, glassy eyed, and blubbering. Castillo realized with horror that there was no escape plan. Taking charge, Castillo began driving along the fence line hoping to exit the airbase before the yanquis cut them off. Rangers of Bravo Company, their scrim covered helmets flapping as they ran, saw the two vehicles and engaged them with small arms fire. The vehicle carrying Noriega’s bodyguards had its tires shot out, but Noriega’s nondescript Hyundai managed to escape the encounter.
The Hyundai turned towards the suburbs of Panama City, and Noriega tried desperately
to put together an escape plan on the fly. Throughout the night Noriega bounced between the
houses of the small entourage that managed to escape with him, the home of one of his arms
dealers, and as he became increasingly desperate, the homes of increasingly distant family
members of the Noriega regime. All the while Noriega was sure the Delta Commandos were
hidden in the back garden, waiting to pounce on him. Or worse, a member of his inner circle
would be willing to betray him. The yanquis had put a $1 million dollar reward on his head, sunk his yacht, and destroyed his private jet. As D-Day of Operation Just Cause continued, he watched his vaunted PDF and Dignity Battalion militias crumble. His situation reached a fever pitch of hopelessness on Christmas Eve. Noriega knew his best chance at survival now was to seek asylum, however the yanquis had surrounded the Cuban and Nicaraguan embassies, his two staunchest allies.
Noriega paid lip service to Catholicism; however his spiritual needs were attended to by
three Brazilian sorceresses who guided his practice of Santeria. But Santeria doesn’t have the
oldest diplomatic mission in the world capable of granting political asylum. Noriega fortified
himself with a water glass filled to the brim with whiskey and placed a call to Monsignor José
Sebastian Laboa. The Maximum Leader of the Republic of Panama met with representatives of the Papal Nunciature in a Dairy Queen Parking lot and was whisked away to the diplomatic mission grounds. There, Manuel Noriega fell into a deep sleep on a cot in a spartan bedroom on
the second story of the Nunciature building. While he slept Monsignor Laboa placed a call to
SOUTHCOM to inform them that he had granted Noriega asylum. American forces quickly
surrounded the Nunciature. General Max Thurman, CINC SOUTHCOM, was a devout Catholic
and would not allow his men to invade the sovereign soil of the Nunciature without a
provocation of the highest order.
Monsignor Laboa offered Noriega asylum because he felt it was the best way to reduce
the chances of protracted fighting and the blossoming of an insurgency. The Americans outside
sought to force Noriega to leave by breaking his will. Loudspeakers blared modern music,
psychological warfare experts playing on Noriega’s distaste for modern music and love of opera.
Laboa chided American forces for the breach of diplomatic protocol and asked for the music to
stop. Laboa applied a much more deft touch to enticing Noriega to surrender. He gave Noriega
only a bible to read, and when Noriega made lofty demands for asylum or terms of surrender
Laboa would bring him back to earth. Finally, by January 3rd, Noriega acquiesced. His only request was to be allowed to surrender in his tropical dress uniform. One of his mistresses, Vicky Amado, dropped off the uniform at the front gates of the Nunciature that evening. Delta Force operatives whisked Noriega away to a waiting MH-60 where he was transported to Howard Air Force Base and handed off to waiting DEA agents. Operation Just Cause was now officially complete.