Chapter 18
“I need about five minutes, Mr. President, to discuss a minor issue.”
“Ok, Fred, hang around. I’d like to hear what the FBI has to say.”
After everyone left, Fred Gateway poured himself a cup of coffee, and said, “You remember your authorization of us, shall I say, talking, with a couple of the Mexican border agents that were bound and gagged but unharmed when all of ours were shot in the head?”
“Go on.”
“We had a little talk with two of them. We examined their bank accounts and found that they were suddenly several thousand dollars richer a week or so before that raid where our agents were killed. The raiders bought their escape through the border crossing station at Naco, just southwest of Bisbee, Arizona. They were given the option of cooperating and being paid to cooperate, or their families would be killed. They each received a whole year’s salary as that bribe. They claimed they didn’t know the American agents would be killed. They thought our Border Patrol agents had also been bribed to let those raiders cross without difficulty. Whoever is behind this is well financed. They bribed half a dozen Mexican agents and made it stick. Two who didn’t buy into it were found murdered along with their families. There is some powerful force behind this. A lot of money has been passed around, even for Mexico. They claim they didn’t know who was behind it all. We showed them some photographs, but they didn’t recognize anybody, or claimed they didn’t.
“With what we got out of that raider that Corporal Carlson shot but didn’t die, the one that spent so much time in an El Paso Hospital that we kept under wraps as a crime victim, we pretty much got down that an Asian is supplying them with money, and probably everything else. The one says it is a Japanese man who goes by the name of Ito; says he overhead their leader whose name is Gonzalez call him that. The Japanese referred back to him as ‘Señor Gonzalez.’ That’s probably an alias, but no way to know at this time.
“Any chance some of my boys can play in this raid?”
“Nope, Fred, I’m going to keep it an all military operation. Too many cooks spoil the stew, so to speak. I’ll let the chain of command handle it. We sent the Marines into Vera Cruz and Blackjack Pershing out of Texas down there in 1915, it’ll be interesting to see who gets to play the current version. You know, I read a book about that expedition a few years ago. We went after Poncho Villa for raiding into the United States; never did catch him, but we sure as hell shot up a lot of Villistas, his supporters. I think they learned then, and they are going to relearn that lesson, real hard. What have you done with the wounded Mexican from the El Paso General?”
“Oh, we’re holding him under wraps, keeping him away from lawyers, telling him he is in protective custody. He told us that their policy was to leave no one alive, so he appreciates the three square meals a day and his very comfortable cell with its television in an isolation cell block in a secure federal prison. The ACLU would accuse us of violating his rights, sure as hell, but we are keeping him alive and talking under the circumstance.”
“Captain Sabata, how would you like to volunteer for a mission that has a rather surreptitious nature?”
“I am your man, Colonel.” Captain Sabata graduated from West Point, class of 2006. A second generation Mexican American, he was an all-star football player in high school in Las Vegas, Nevada. He played linebacker at the Academy and was noted for his hard tackling. He thought about professional football off and on, but decided the Army held more and greater challenges, like Ranger School. He thought about Special Forces, but decided not to go that route, as the specialization in one culture and language would curtail a broader range of activities in the Rangers. At twenty-seven years of age, he was bench pressing two hundred pounds in sets of ten repetitions. At six foot one inches tall and 200 pounds, he was all muscle and sinew that was hard to hide. His body fat content hovered around five percent. Unmarried, he didn’t have much time for anything but the Army. His second tour of duty was in Korea, just before U.S. Forces were withdrawn from the peninsula in 2008. “Screw the duties” became his motto while in Korea. He spent four hours a day in the gym taking Kuk Ki Do lessons. When he left Korea twelve months later, he was a first Dan, a true black belt. Kuk Ki Do is the form of karate that is mandatory for all of the guards of the Blue House, South Korea’s version of the White House. All of the elite guards must be Kuk Ki Do black belts. Kuk Ki Do is not a sport, but a deadly art. It has only one philosophy, to kill, maim or completely incapacitate your opponent as quickly and quietly as possible.
“Do you have a couple of Mexican Americans in your battalion you would like to join you? We’re thinking about a four- or five-man team. Final number is up to you.”
“Yes, sir, I can pick four easily. I have a couple in my own company, as a matter of fact, that will do nicely for whatever needs to be done.”
“Good. They must be fluent in Tex-Mex, have completely Mexican names, willing to go undercover unarmed and in civilian dress. Have them in my office at fifteen hundred hours.”
Three hours later, Captain Rodrigo Sabata, Sergeants First Class Manuel Estevez, Miguel Perez, along with Staff Sergeants Caesar Consaida and Romero Chavez stood before the Ranger battalion commander.
“This gentleman will brief you now and alone,” stated the Lieutenant Colonel, indicating the man dressed in casual clothing and sitting in a chair against the wall. The Lieutenant Colonel left the room.
“The five of you must commit now, without hearing any details at all of what you are tasked to do, or you are dismissed as of this moment.”
No one said anything, but all except Captain Sabata had a slight smile on his face.
“Very well. You five are going undercover into Mexico to investigate, and possibly join, the organization or organizations that have been raiding across the border in Texas and Arizona the last year or two. You will leave Fort Benning tonight. We will fly you to El Paso, where you will buy a car and proceed into Mexico as braceros looking for work. You are to travel separately, unrecognizing each other until you join up at the Motel 8 on Interstate 10 outside El Paso. Reservations will be made for each of you under your own names. Each of you will be given $3000 cash at the end of this briefing. Captain Sabata, you will have an additional $10,000 out of which you are to purchase a dependable used car for travel into Mexico. I have reviewed your field 201 Personnel Files. You have somewhat diverse geographic backgrounds, coming from different areas of the southwest. That is fine. Your cover will be that you met and formed friendships while working the sugar beet fields in central Wyoming. That’s far enough from the border that no one there will hopefully have any details of that area. Each of your packets has information on the Big Horn Basin. After you memorize it, burn it, and I mean burn it before you leave here tonight. You are traveling unarmed, at least until you get to El Paso. No firearms there, but I don’t object if you get a good fighting folder out of your pocket money. You each worked and saved for a year in the sugar beet fields to accumulate your pocket money. You decided you didn’t like the cold Wyoming winters and wanted to return to the southwest. Together, you traveled south but your car, a tan, 2002 Chevy Impala with a small engine and an automatic transmission, caught fire and burned along the highway just north of El Paso, so you abandoned it and bought another in El Paso. You heard a rumor in a bar in El Paso that the farm in question was hiring, so you thought you would check it out. So, go to a bar together in Ciudad Juarez and establish your presence with the bartender. It doesn’t seem to matter which bar.
“Basically, the farm in question is believed to be the base for these raids. What scanty information we have is that some Asians are backing these raids with money and guns. The Mexican government just calls them bandits. Maybe, but we don’t think so. We want to know whom and why. Try and get hired. If not, just hang around the area and see what you can pick up. If you don’t get hired, you have a month to gather collateral information. Travel around the area if you think it is indicated. When the month is up, report to Fort Bliss, Adjutant of the Commanding General. We will have further instructions for you then. Your information packet has a collect call phone number that is manned 24/7. Aerial photos and descriptions of the place are in your packets. These people are absolutely ruthless killers. If you think they are on to you, bug out. Pack light. You have four hours to prepare. Questions? None, then here are your packets and money. You depart here at 19:00 hours. A bus will pick you up at this office. Good luck.”
Captain Sabata and his four companions drove slowly past the fenced area. Sergeant First Class Perez was driving, while the other four scrutinized the road. At first, they paid no attention to the small boxes attached to the fence posts about every quarter mile, until Staff Sergeant Chavez noticed that sunlight was reflecting off what appeared to be a camera lens. Then they noted the little boxes every four hundred meters.
“This must be the place, with security like that,” said Captain Sabata. At that moment, a tractor drove past them from the opposite direction. After driving a few more miles, they turned around and drove back to a wide gate that was electronically controlled. They pulled up to the gate, and Sergeant Perez looked into the security camera.
A voice from a speaker asked, “Who are you?”
“Just a couple of amigos looking for work. We heard that there was a farm somewhere around here, hiring. We are looking for that place.”
“Someone will be with you in a couple of minutes. Be patient.” The speaker fell silent.
“Gomez, you and Hernando go look them over. Chat with them for a while. See what you can find out. We could use some good men, but don’t take any chances.”
Gomez picked up his AK-47 and a .357, Hernando took a .357 magnum revolver from his top right-hand desk drawer, got up from his desk and together they climbed in to a Ford pickup truck outside the office. Sabata and his team waited for five minutes until Gomez and Hernando in their pickup truck came to the gate, opened it, and got out of their truck and walked over to the soldiers. Both Hernando and Gomez had their handguns in their waistbands hidden under untucked shirt tails. Gomez walked to the driver’s side and looked in. Hernando stood relatively close to his pickup, with the AK-47 in the front seat.
“So, Amigos, you are looking for work? What kind of work do you do?”
Sabata spoke for them. “We have been working sugar beet fields up north but didn’t care for the cold. We thought we would come to where it is warm again. It is good to be in a place like this.”
“You are field hands, then. Can you all drive trucks of different kinds, tractors, operate combines and other machinery?”
“We can do many things, all of those which you mention. We can do many other things as well.”
“What other things can you do, Amigo? Many skills are appreciated here. Can you weld? Are you a mechanic who can fix automobiles and farm machinery?”
“Caesar is a fair mechanic, Romero did a little welding, not all that good perhaps, but he knows to heat the metal before you push the welding rod. We had heard you were looking for other skills as well.”
Gomez’s sense of danger came alive. “What skills do you speak of? We have no special requirements on this farm. We do have feedlot cattle. Perhaps you do veterinary work?”
“Manuel knows a little of medicine. He might be of use to you. He has pulled a few calves, done a little surgery, he knows to wash his hands. We have heard talk that you have need of other skills as well.”
“Amigo, I do not know of what you speak. Where have you heard this talk? What is this talk? I do not understand you.”
“We were in a bar in Juarez two nights ago. We heard men talking that you were looking for adventurous men, men who were willing to do a little extra in order to earn a little extra money. We are very much interested in a little extra money. There are five of us, and none of us have families, but we would all like to be able to afford one some day.”