Edge of Battle (33 page)

“One more point: do not, I repeat, do
not
waste your time trying to contact local law enforcement about illegals living or working in your neighborhood. Ninety-nine percent of local law enforcement agencies in the United States will not do anything with the information you give, citing such nonsense such as states’ rights, localities not required to enforce federal law, lack of resources, fear of civil rights lawsuits, and similar cowardly dodges. States and municipalities are required to care, educate, feed, provide medical, welfare, and legal services to all their residents, but for some bizarre reason they will not ask for
proof
of citizenship or residency; and unless the illegal person has committed a crime, they will not call Immigration and Customs Enforcement to have the person deported. There’s something twisted and backward about that policy, and we’ll discuss that on a future show.

“If you feel these persons are a threat to you, your family, or your community, then by all means dial 911 and report it,” he
went on, “but your responsibility is to protect your life, the lives of your family, and your property, so I urge you to do so to the utmost extent your state and local laws allow. You are making a big mistake if you expect the government to protect you. We have the right in this country to keep and bear arms, guaranteed to us by the Second Amendment to the Constitution, and if you do not take advantage of this right, at best you may someday lose this right—and at worst, you could lose your
life
to someone who values neither your rights nor your life. Don’t be stupid, naïve, passive, or impartial. Do what you must to protect yourselves and the ones you love,
right now
. This is a war, ladies and gentlemen, and it’s about time we started taking the fight to
them
.

“Of course, I predict the government will whine and cry that my message this morning has resulted in a flood of bogus and paranoid-fueled reports that they are completely unable to contend with—and it’ll be all
my
fault,” O’Rourke went on. “That excuse is
unacceptable
. If the alphabet-soup list of civil agencies we have to secure our borders, control immigration, and combat terrorism can’t deal with the problem, we need to make sure that the government does whatever is necessary to deal with it, or we need to take matters into our own hands. I don’t care if they call in the National Guard and have soldiers link arms and create a human wall of protection on the border—they need to do something about the illegal immigration problem,
now
. No more excuses, no more deaths, no more political correctness! President Conrad needs to get off his backside and get some troops out here
immediately
to secure our borders and hunt down these terrorists, or the American people
will!

“The
Bottom Line,
my friends: the time to start taking back our country and securing our families, homes, and neighborhoods is
now
. You may think that what has happened this morning is thousands of miles away from where you live and work, and that it will never affect you because you live in Iowa or Connecticut and you don’t live on the Mexican border, but you’re wrong. Illegal immigration hurts all of us, no matter where you live, and sooner or
later the violence that we saw in the Imperial Valley of southern California will spread all across our country, wherever illegal immigrants live and work, and then you’ll realize how long the violence and trespass has been with us, and how badly it affects our lives every day.”

“I’ll have more about this deadly, bloody morning in the great United States, the latest acts of terrorism on our own soil, right after these messages. Stay tuned, we’ll be right back.”

T
HE
S
ITUATION
R
OOM
,
THE
W
HITE
H
OUSE
,
W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.
A
SHORT TIME LATER

The past hour had been a complete whirlwind of confusion, reminiscent of the Consortium attacks last year. The President would have thought that his government and the first responders would be accustomed to leaping into action after another terrorist event, but it was every bit the same semicontrolled madhouse they had experienced before.

When the news of the shoot-down near El Centro came in, President Samuel Conrad had been immediately whisked away from a breakfast meeting, tour, and speech at the National Cancer Institute at Fort Detrick, near Frederick, Maryland, and quickly escorted to his waiting helicopter at the Army base for the short flight back to Washington. Initial reports indicated it might be another Consortium terror attack, so the government had been sent into crisis mode, with the vice president and other key members of the administration and Congress sent to alternate emergency command centers. The alert had been canceled quickly, but like a locomotive or aircraft carrier going at full speed, it was hard to stop the government crisis juggernaut once it got going.

Things were fairly quiet and relatively calm back at the White House. The President strode quickly into the White House Situation Room. “Seats,” he said as soon as he stepped to his chair at the head of the conference table. His advisers shuffled to their chairs. “Okay, let’s get started. Tom?”

“The vice president is in Washington State this morning, and is now airborne and on his way to the western alternate command center in St. George, Utah,” the Chief of Staff said. He ran down the locations and status of all the other cabinet officers, the leadership of Congress, and the members of the Supreme Court. “The Homeland Security Threat Assessment team met a short time ago. As you know, sir, following the incident in Arizona and the other attacks on Border Patrol personnel, the Homeland Security Threat Advisory level was already at ‘orange,’ or ‘High.’ Following the attack on the Marine Corps and CHP helicopters near El Centro, the assessment team recommends raising the threat level to ‘red,’ or ‘Extreme.’ They gave me a call and I told them I’d ask your advice.”

“Sergeant Major?”

“I recommend going ahead and raising the threat level to ‘red,’ sir,” National Security Adviser Ray Jefferson replied immediately.

President Conrad sat back in his seat, physically and emotionally drained and exhausted. This would be the first time since the Consortium attacks that the nation had been back on “Extreme,” something that he had dearly hoped to avoid. The Homeland Security Threat Assessment Team, composed of the Attorney General, the President’s Homeland Security Adviser, the Director of National Intelligence, and the commander of U.S. Northern Command, were in charge of setting the Homeland Security Threat Advisory level and determined the recommended “Protective Measure” response, which varied by agency and state depending on the location, severity, and gravity of the threat. It was not required by law, but before publicly announcing their decision, the Threat Assessment Team always made a courtesy call to the White House to advise the President of their recommended response.

“Sergeant Major, I think the American people are exhausted,” the President said, “and if we raise the threat level to ‘red’ again, they’re not going to react at all when we
really
need them to do so. Is the Threat Assessment Team
absolutely
sure that this incident rises to the level of a
terrorist
action against the United States? In my mind, it does not. It
could
have been an accident.”

“We’re suspicious about the tasking of those Mexican Air Force jets, sir,” Air Force General Gordon Joelson, commander of U.S. Northern Command, the unified military command in charge of the defense of the continental United States, interjected. “We’re trying to precisely nail down the timeline, but it appears that those jets launched from their base near Mexico City moments after the battle with Task Force TALON farther north.”

“I’m in the dark,” the President said. He looked perturbedly at Jefferson. “What battle? TALON was in a battle?”

“Yes, sir, about ninety minutes ago,” Jefferson said. “FBI Director DeLaine’s joint task force group, sent out to track down the survivor of the first terrorist attack near Blythe, had a shootout with terrorists, one of whom was identified by Major Richter as Yegor Zakharov.”

“Oh,
shit…!
”

“Zakharov had several heavy weapons with him and was obviously expecting an encounter with the CID robots,” Jefferson went on. “He escaped, after killing several civilians, injuring a Border Patrol agent, and…and capturing the CID unit and Major Richter.”

“He
what?
” the President shouted. The room exploded in sheer pandemonium.
“Zakharov has Richter and one of the robots?”

“I’m afraid so, sir,” Jefferson said. “We’re tracking Zakharov down as we speak. TALON’s reconnaissance airship detected several encrypted satellite phone transmissions from the area, which we believe Zakharov made himself—they could not unscramble the message, but the transmissions came from a vehicle that turned out to be stolen, heading for the Mexico border at high speed. Minutes after the first few calls, the jets launched.”

“That could be a coincidence.”

“It would have been, sir, if the jets went on a normal patrol or went to a practice area,” Joelson said. “But we tracked the planes using OTH-B radar almost from liftoff, and it does not appear to have been a normal flight profile at all.” OTH-B, or over-the-horizon-backscatter, was an ultralong-range radar system that bounced radar energy off the ionosphere, allowing radar operators to detect and track aircraft as far as five thousand miles away. The system, based in Maine and originally designed to detect attacking Soviet bombers from the north, had been steered to look south to detect drug smugglers flying from South America. “Those F-5s made a beeline toward El Centro, even flying supersonic for a short period of time. My guess is that they were summoned to respond to the area that Zakharov was going to use for his escape route.”

“You actually think Yegor Zakharov or the Consortium has allies so deep and so high up in the Mexican government that he can order fighter jets to launch on a moment’s notice like that?” the President asked, although he didn’t dare believe it was so crazy as to totally discount it.

“I don’t know, sir,” Joelson said. “It doesn’t seem likely—the Mexican government is corrupt, but they’d be stone-cold insane to make any kind of deal with Yegor Zakharov so soon after the Consortium attacks against the United States. But there’s no doubt in my mind that those jets headed
directly
for the exact location where Zakharov was heading. I believe they were
dispatched
.”

“What about those helicopters?” the President asked. “Where did they come from, and where did they go?”

“OTH-B can’t see close to the U.S. border, and civil or military radars didn’t pick up anything until the incident was over because they flew so low, but we think the three helicopters involved in the incident came from Rodolfo Sanchez Taboada Airport near Mexicali, which also has air force and Ministry of Internal Affairs aircraft based there as well,” Joelson said. “Based on the range of those helicopters, they could have flown as far south as Her
mosillo. The jets didn’t fly all the way back to Mexico City, so they probably landed and refueled nearby, possibly at Hermosillo as well.”

“My God, they got away with kidnapping and murder—and now Zakharov has a robot,” the President muttered. “Jesus, Jefferson, this is a massive screw-up.”

“The CID unit has several telemetry and tracking systems on-board,” Jefferson said. “If Zakharov tried to activate it, we’ll have it pinpointed in seconds. We’ll get it back. Zakharov will never get a chance to use it. But we need Mexico’s cooperation to track down Zakharov and get Richter and the robot back.”

“Maravilloso will never cooperate,” the President said. “Zakharov will either bribe or threaten her enough to convince her to stonewall us until he has a chance to figure out how to use the robot. What in hell are we supposed to do?”

“Mr. President, our path is clear,” Ray Jefferson said. “By executive order, Task Force TALON has the authority to pursue Yegor Zakharov and the Consortium anywhere on the planet—and that includes Mexico. We should reactivate them immediately.”

“I strongly disagree with the sergeant major, sir,” Kinsly said. “My opinion at this moment is that this incident was horrendous and ill-timed but an unfortunate accident.”

“Hold it, everyone, just
hold
it,” the President said. “I’m not going to send anyone until I find out what happened from Maravilloso herself.” He picked up the phone by his right elbow and waited until after the familiar “Yes, Mr. President?” query from the operator. “Get me the president of Mexico, immediately,” Conrad ordered. “Tell her it’s urgent.”

P
ALACIAO
N
ACIONAL
, M
EXICO
C
ITY
, M
EXICO
T
HAT SAME TIME

“Where in hell is Díaz?” United Mexican States President Carmen Maravilloso shouted. “I called for him almost an hour ago!”

“He is on his way, Madam President,” her assistant said. “He phoned and said his helicopter was damaged, so he must travel by car. He may not be here for another thirty minutes at best.”

“¡Hideputa!”
Maravilloso swore. “The President of the United States is going to call me any minute now, and the only explanation I have is this sorry-assed fairy tale! I want to talk with Díaz on a secure line, and I want it
now!
”

“Madam President, this is an absolute outrage,” Minister of Defense Alberto Rojas said hotly. “I never authorized those jets to fly near the border!
Never!
We have very specific rules about military flights near the border, and they all require…”

“I heard you the first time, General, I heard you,” Maravilloso said. “I am going to get to the bottom of this. Pedro!” At that moment her assistant walked in. “Get Díaz in here in the next two minutes or I’ll…!”

“The President of the United States is calling, Madam,” her assistant said.

Maravilloso stopped, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Get Díaz in here…”

“He will be here within minutes, Madam President,” Pedro said, and quickly retreated.

Maravilloso took another deep breath, resignedly shook her head, and picked up the phone. “This is the president. Go ahead.”

“Madame President, this is Samuel Conrad.”

“Yes, Mr. President, thank you for the call,” she said. “I send my sincerest condolences to you and your citizens for this tragedy.”

“Can you tell me what happened, Madam President?”

“A tragic but completely innocent error.” She made a quick report of what she had been told about the incident. “Our investiga
tion is under way, but I can assure you, this will be scrupulously examined. I deeply and sincerely apologize for the tragic loss of life, but it was nothing more than an unfortunate accident. The military received a request for support from the Minister of Internal Affairs and the Attorney General, stating that rival drug gangs from Mexicali, who had been involved in several murders, kidnappings, and bank robberies, were attempting to flee justice. Military jets and helicopters were immediately dispatched to assist local police and Internal Affairs investigators…”

“
Jets?
Do you regularly dispatch
armed jet fighters
to chase down drug smugglers?”

“We had heard that the gang members had heavy military weapons, including rocket-propelled grenades, which as you know they did indeed have such weapons. We decided to take no chances—better to bring too much firepower than not enough. They found the gang members in a very short period of time. The criminals fired what appeared to be a shoulder-fired missile, so our aircraft returned fire in self-defense…”

“So are you trying to say that your jets fired a missile and it strayed off course and accidentally hit the helicopter?”

“I am telling you what has happened, Mr. Conrad—I have no explanations yet,” Maravilloso said. “I am told that the attacks on the criminals were initiated over
Mexican
territory, not American airspace. It was only after the attack commenced that they realized they had overflown U.S. airspace, and they immediately withdrew without firing any more shots.”

“Why didn’t you notify any U.S. agencies that you were flying military aircraft in the vicinity of the border?” the President asked. “The danger of high-speed jets flying so close to civilian and military airfields without prior notification is obvious…”

“Our pilots never had authorization to fly into U.S, airspace, sir—it was a mistake, one for which they will be punished, following our own military investigation,” Maravilloso said. “The commanders on the scene did not believe any danger existed. Obviously they did not anticipate the accidental overflight and what
might happen if innocent American aircraft were in the same area. Unfortunately the worst happened…”

“A courtesy call still would have been appropriate.”

“Oh? I do not recall getting a ‘courtesy call’ when you set up Rampart One, or when you moved National Guard troops to the border, sir,” Maravilloso said. “Courtesy works both ways, Mr. Conrad, does it not?”

“The difference is, Madam President, that our forces were merely guarding our
own
borders and did not run the danger of crossing Mexico’s border…”

“Oh, really? I think the danger was
very
clear.”

“…and there is no duty to inform you of actions we take that affect only
our
territory,” Conrad said. “If you thought the gang members might try to cross the border, on the other hand, a call to American state and federal law enforcement agencies, for proper notification or assistance, would have been desirable and appropriate.”