Each team leader was responsible to account for each of his men. If they were critically wounded, a chest or head wound, they received a bullet in the brain. If an abdominal or limb wound, they were loaded into vans or pickups with a topper. The county high school was not disturbed.
As they retreated towards Naco and Douglas, Jesus Gonzalez, leading the column, radioed Francisco at Aqua Prieta to initiate action. They handcuffed the Mexican guards after having them disrobe. Donning their uniforms, Francisco calmly led his team to the American guard booths where they opened fire upon them. One American Border Patrol officer who was inspecting a car managed to shoot two of them with his Beretta 96 before going down. Another Border Patrolman shot down two more with a shotgun when he saw them draw their sidearms en masse. Francisco went from Border Patrolman to Border Patrolman, calmly shooting each in the head as he had been instructed. He examined his own four wounded and dispatched them likewise. People on both sides of the border fled their cars as the shooting began. Francisco and his men waved Jesus Gonzales and Miguel’s team through the checkpoint and into Mexico.
Felipe had somewhat better luck. He only lost two men. Of course, the traffic at Naco wasn’t nearly as heavy as that at Douglas.
When word of the Benson raid reached the national news media, the feeding frenzy was orgasmic. Television journalists were commenting that federal action must occur. These raids were intolerable. The Army must be brought in. Reporters from Tucson were on the scene in a matter of a few hours. They had live broadcasts of dead and bleeding wounded citizens lying in the streets. They had the unmitigated bad taste to show live some of the battered and raped and nearly unconscious nude women.
The next morning, the Governor of Arizona announced he was activating the National Guard military police and infantry units, both mechanized and light. Their mission: patrol the border and reinforce checkpoints. Infantry Fighting Vehicles would be stationed at all border checkpoints. Illegal aliens attempting to cross into Arizona would be fired upon without warning. Arizona civilians had his authority to shoot illegal aliens attempting to cross the border, irrespective of their civil rights and the legality of it, and the ACLU could go to hell if they didn’t like it. Civil Air Patrols would monitor the border from the air. The American Civil Liberties Union immediately protested and filed a lawsuit against the Governor’s order to shoot illegal aliens attempting to sneak across the border.
Phone calls, faxes, e-mail messages, and telegrams flooded the White House and office of every U.S. Senator and congressman whose districts stretched from California to Brownsville, Texas.
That night, President Dorn called a meeting for 08:00 the next day with the Director of Central Intelligence, Director Gateway of the FBI, the Secretary of State, the Secretary for Homeland Security, the Attorney General, the Joint Chiefs, and the senior senators from the Border States as to how to best respond to the cross border raids. The governors of the Border States were invited, and all made overnight flights into Washington to attend. Since the integrity of the U.S. had been breached, the Attorney General expressed the opinion that the Posse Commitatus Act would not apply. If it went to the courts, the Department of Justice would fight it through the Supreme Court. If the court overturned it, the President could declare Martial Law, which would allow deployment of federal troops.
The Joint Chiefs accepted the recommendation of the Chief of Staff, Army, that the 101st Airborne Division be deployed because of their organic helicopter fleet. It would be much easier to resupply outposts and patrols, coordinate air and ground patrols, and establish outlying bases with a force already task organized.
The Governor also requested federalization of the National Guard units, which would augment the brigades of the 101st. Airborne Division. The Adjutant Generals of California, Arizona, Texas and New Mexico would coordinate with the Commanding General of the 101st. In this way, there would be more than one soldier per mile of the border; 1800 miles long, and the federal government would shoulder the financial burden.
The general consensus held that these cross border raids, drawing upon the historic raids of Pancho Villa and bandits in the early part of the twentieth century, were the result of a nascent Revolutionary Army seeking funds to expand its activities in Mexico.
President Dorn had his secretary, Roberta, place a call to Mexico’s President, Enrico Bustamante. “Mr. President, I am sure you have heard of the raid two days ago on Benson, Arizona. The American public is howling for protection and revenge. Do you have any idea as to the objective of these raids, who is conducting them, and where they are hiding?”
Bustamante hesitated and then responded. “No, Mr. President, I do not. My federal officers were all captured with none killed, as you know. Interrogation of them has revealed that they are totally ignorant of what happened. Are you certain these raiders are Mexican nationals and not Americans of Mexican descent pretending to be Mexicans?”
He’s a little upbeat, thought Dorn. “Quite a number of our citizens in this region are, as you say, of Mexican descent, Mr. President. Consequently, most of them are bilingual, fluent in both English and Spanish as spoken in Mexico. Quite a number of our surviving Mexican American citizens have remarked that most of the raiders spoke with an accent native to Chihuahua. Are there any rebel armies or bands of brigands currently operating in Chihuahua?”
It was a bluff, but Bustamante didn’t know it. “No, Mr. President, there are not. Of course, one could have formed in these last two months that we have no knowledge of at this point in time.”
Like hell you don’t, thought Dorn. “There has been a band of revolutionaries who turned to banditry to support themselves running loose in Chihuahua for at least ten years. They hire out to drug lords as a private army on occasion, when the drug lords wage turf wars on one another. Even our agents know that much.
“President Bustamante, I have the unfortunate duty to inform you that I am now ordering the U.S. Army to initiate patrolling of the border, and a greatly increased crackdown on the flow of illegal immigrants into the U.S. across our mutual border. It is with considerable reluctance that I do this. It is better for our federal government to do it, however, rather than state militias. As you have probably heard, yesterday, the Governor of Arizona ordered the Arizona National Guard to active duty to patrol the border. He personally and expressly gave the order to shoot on sight anyone attempting to illegally cross the border into Arizona.”
Bustamante cringed. The use of federal troops to tighten the border would increase the hazards to, and reduce the flow of, drugs and people into the U.S. Mexico’s economy would be severely hampered if federal forces were effective for very long. His political party would lose millions of dollars in a very short time.
“President Dorn, I will pursue this very vigorously. We cannot allow bandits to harm our long standing and mutually beneficial relationship.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. I am sure your efforts will be thorough and effective. Give my regards to Mrs. Bustamante.”
“And ours, from myself and Mrs. Bustamante, and Mexico, to your lovely wife.”
Now, why would all of the Mexican officers be unharmed while all the American Border Patrol agents were killed, mused Henry Dorn. Don’t tell me it wasn’t a setup!
Chapter 8
The meter reader for the power company thought it odd that so many vehicles were parked at the Taylor Ranch in Brewster County, Texas. Must be a family reunion, he thought, all of the license plates are from California. As he was reading the meter, Felipe saw him out the window. Simultaneously, the meter reader saw him. Felipe smiled. He turned to two of his men eating at the table. “Go quickly now, kill the meter man before he escapes.”
They picked up their AK 47s from the table and ran out the door. They opened fire as they rounded the corner of the house and saw the meter man open his truck door and start to climb in. Half a dozen bullets in his back slammed him against his truck. He fell dead with a bullet through his heart.
Robert Taylor was lying dead in the living room. Two braceros, ranch hands, living in the house trailer were also murdered. Felipe sent four men against the trailer while he and six others assaulted the house. It was 07:00, and all at the Taylor ranch were eating their breakfast. The braceros had little wealth. They found a Timex watch on one, and they had twenty dollars between them. New blue jeans and work shoes and a chore coat were divided among the raiders.
“What shall we do with the woman, Felipe?” Jose had asked. Jose, barely 20, decided he would have her. He had been a virgin until he sampled the prostitutes maintained at the base. Now, being curious how the older woman would look and feel, decided he would have her. He did. Jose disinterestedly heard her begging as Jose ripped off her clothes and tied her to the bed. When he finished, he asked, “Does anyone else want the woman? The two who murdered the braceros did.
Felipe shrugged. “What would you do? How good a look did she get of your face?” When they were finished with her, Jose shot her in the head.
Felipe and his raiders made themselves more breakfast and had a hearty meal. They were just finishing when the meter man appeared.
“Jose, fill all the vehicles with gas from the farm gas tank. Miguel, refill the water cans, Manuel, gather food and restock the trucks.”
The meter reader wasn’t missed until after 18:00. He didn’t answer his radio or cell phone. The power company supervisor began calling those on his route plan for the day. Several had seen him. His fourth stop was the Taylor ranch, where no one answered the phone.
Felipe and his team moved north and east into Terrell County, Texas. They cut the fence on a lonely stretch of highway and drove their two vans and pickups with toppers into the desert out of sight to camp for the night. The next day, they drove back roads, seeking isolated homes and ranches. They found easy victims every other day. They would fill their gasoline and water cans at the ranches or in small towns where they would buy food as needed, always pretending to be migrant workers looking for work.
At 20:00, the supervisor called the sheriff’s department to report that Herman was four hours overdue. The sheriff’s department notified the Department of Public Safety officer for the county. At 21:00, Herman’s wife called, demanding to know why her husband was so late returning home. The supervisor postulated that he was broken down in some back road in an arroyo where he couldn’t be reached by radio or phone. She didn’t buy that. She thought his boss was covering for him while he was out drinking or visiting some woman with loose morals.
When shift change occurred, the night shift supervisor informed the dayshift supervisor coming on duty. He didn’t like it at all. He called the Texas Department of Public Safety and asked if there was aerial surveillance in the area. All aircraft were flying further south along the border was the answer. The day time supervisor checked out the newest truck, filled it with gas, took a five-gallon can of gas, a thermos of coffee, and purchased a six-pack of bottled water, a dozen donuts and four sandwiches at the convenience store. He started driving Herman’s route beginning at his last known location. At 14:00, he reached the Taylor ranch. One hundred meters from the house, he recognized Herman’s truck and saw his body next to it. He stopped, quickly glanced around, and called the sheriff’s office on his cell phone. At 16:00, the sheriff, three heavily armed deputies and the county coroner arrived. The supervisor had not moved from where he had stopped. Upon entering the house and trailer, the sheriff notified the Department of Public Safety, who passed it on to Austin, who notified the Border Patrol and the FBI. By 22:00, a full-blown investigation was underway. The sheriff decided to make a news release that a ranch family had been murdered without identifying them. That would have to wait until next of kin were notified. It was repeated on area radio and television all the next morning. South Texas had been put on alert.
Friends began to call friends. By the fourth day, three other ranch raids were found. Texas Rangers plotted them on a map and determined the route Felipe followed. State patrolmen and Texas Rangers began interviewing gas stations and convenience stores, motels and other likely stops along the route. A number remembered a caravan of two vans and two pickups with about a dozen men. A huge circuit up to Odessa was identified. Law enforcement agencies throughout Texas were very closely following events. It was postulated that the suspects would turn west through Loving, Reeves, and Culberson counties, or northeast towards San Angelo.
Since their pattern was to strike isolated ranches, two likely routes emerged. An All Points Bulletin was issued. Twenty-four hours later, a DPS trooper observed them at a roadside picnic area just outside Sterling city. The officer drove past them as he radioed their location and turned off the road where he could observe them. DPS troopers and county sheriffs’ departments moved quickly to block each of the six highways leading in and out of Sterling City. The city of San Angelo contributed a five-man SWAT team and twenty officers. When Felipe’s team moved south on Highway 163, the Iron County Sheriff’s Department set up a roadblock north of the junction of 163 and 2469, and waited. It didn’t take long.
When Felipe saw the roadblock ahead, he pulled on the shoulder. The others followed. That’s when he noticed the train of police cars behind them without lights or sirens. He immediately drove off the road and plowed through a four-stand barbed wire fence. It slowed him down some, as posts and wires finally snapped, but didn’t stop him. Now, all units began a chase across a recently combined sorghum field. A DPS helicopter arrived, and the officer in the passenger’s seat opened fire with a Barrett semi-automatic fifty caliber rifle. The engine in Felipe’s truck exploded on the impact of the 750-grain full metal jacket boat tailed bullet. His truck quickly plowed to a stop. He jumped out, as did the other raiders. Reaching behind their seats, they pulled out their AK-47s. The other raider vehicles drove past them, with the police 50 meters behind them in close pursuit. The doors of the last van flew open, and two gunmen opened fire with their AK-47s. Their bullets struck the windshield and radiator of the leading police cruiser. It veered off to the side. The police officer riding shotgun in the second cruised was leaning out the window with a fighting shotgun. As soon as the first vehicle cleared the field of fire, he opened fire. His first two rounds were with BBs, the third with #1 buckshot, the fourth, fifth, and sixth rounds with 00 buck, the seventh and eighth with one-ounce slugs. He didn’t miss with any of them. The two gunmen fell out of the truck with numerous pellet wounds. The 00 buck and slugs ripped through the seat and into the other occupants. The trooper was reloading when the van came to the very small irrigation ditch. It didn’t quite fly across it, but the driver and front seat passenger flew into the windshield as the front end of the van dropped and crashed into the far bank.
Felipe and his driver, firing at the helicopter, ignored the dozen police cars until it was too late. Both fell dead to officers emulating Roy with the shotgun. Somewhat spread out, the next three police cruisers had driving officers firing hand guns out their windows while the officers in the passenger seats were firing with a Mini-14, a lever action Marlin .30-30 and a shotgun. Some of the rifle bullets penetrated the gasoline cans in the next van. A moron raider pulled the hand grenade pin and released the spoon just when #4 shotgun pellets hit him in the hands, face and chest. He dropped the grenade and fell back on the second seat. The grenade rolled forward and detonated under the driver’s seat. Two milliseconds later, the ignited gasoline exploded as a ball of flame. The windshield saved the officers in the cruiser immediately behind them from flash burns. The last pickup slowed to a stop under the intense fire from the helicopter re-engaging it with rifle fire. The police caravan came to a halt, with the lead police vehicle passing the last raider vehicle before stopping. The windshield was shot out, the cab was filled with bullet holes, and so were the occupants. Of the twelve raiders, none were alive. The two who impacted on the windshield died of subdural hemorrhage and broken necks before medical assistance arrived. A search of the unburned vehicles revealed much of the loot taken from their victims. Their raid had lasted a little over three weeks.
Jesus Gonzalez heard the news of the deaths of Felipe’s team on the local nightly news broadcast out of El Paso. Several of the older members, those who had been with Jesus Gonzalez for more than a year, aspired to leadership, so Jesus selected them as new lieutenants. Jesus Gonzalez’s prowess as a bandit leader and revolutionary spread by word of mouth. Many more were looking to join his little army, more than he could accommodate.
With the deployment of the 101 Air Assault Division, Jesus Gonzalez didn’t know what to do with his army. He knew that he was a toad of a Mr. Chan, a Chinaman pretending to be a Japanese Mr. Ito, but to what purpose all of this was, he could not comprehend. He certainly wasn’t going to fight the U.S. Army on American soil.
Now, helicopters equipped with machine guns, radar, night vision devices and sometimes rockets patrolled the skies day and night. Ten-man patrols tramped up and down the border. The illicit flow of drugs, people, stolen cars and stolen everything else slowed to a trickle. The addicts and drug lords were screaming. The street cost of drugs doubled, tripled, and then quadrupled. Drug suppliers began scrambling for new sources of drugs. Many heroin addicts attempted cold turkey withdrawal. Some made it, most did not. Armed robbery, burglary, and drug related crimes soared throughout the United States commensurate with prices. Drug lords experimented with new methods of smuggling and explored new routes with new partners. Canada and Florida took on a renewed meaning for the Cuban axis.
A shipping crate arrived, but Jesus Gonzalez had not ordered anything. He had it moved into a packing shed. Two days later, Mr. Ito arrived.
“Have you received anything lately, Señor Gonzalez?”
“Yes Señor Ito, a large crate arrived two days ago. I had it moved into a packing shed but have not opened it since I did not order anything. I suspected it came from you but thought I would wait until you confirmed or denied it.”
“Well, let’s go and open it.”
“Luis, get several men and open the present from Mr. Ito.”
