“How often do you get supplies out here, Captain Gray?” Ari asked.
“Call me Ben, Dr. Vega.”
“Only if you call me Ari, Ben,” Ari responded with one of her patented man-killing smiles.
“Deal.” Jason noticed with a smile that Gray was already hooked, landed, gutted, and filleted. “Once a day right now, Ari, but when we start getting some detainees here and the ops tempo picks up I’m sure it’ll increase. I figure five hundred people here max, a minimum of eight liters of water each per day, plus water for the mess halls, showers, and maintenance areas—that’s a minimum of two large tankers of potable water, or a tractor-trailer full of bottled water; plus a tanker of diesel for the generators and a tanker of Jet-A for the aircraft, per week. Add in rations for five hundred persons, spare parts, equipment—I figure two convoys a week, with four tankers and one to two tractor-trailers of supplies and equipment each. Half our manpower goes toward logistics and security for all this stuff.”
They approached an area with a twelve-foot-high chain-link fence topped with razor wire. It was the detention facility, a complex of fences and tents to house migrants caught illegally crossing the border. He had seen the facility just last night, but it seemed as if the detainee population had doubled since then. “Man, I thought it would take a month or two to reach our maximum capacity—now it looks like it’ll only take a few more days,” he remarked. “We’ve only been open for business for three days!”
The detention facility had twelve TEMPER units set up, the same tent structures as the unit area. Each thirty-two-foot TEMPER unit housed sixteen individuals on cots; the plans called for sixteen TEMPER units at Rampart One. Access between units was strictly controlled with chain-link fence, so detainees entered and exited from the front of each unit only. In back of the tents was a fenced yard for basketball and soccer. Beside the exercise yard was a twelve-bed field medical clinic, a legal services tent, a small chapel, and a community latrine for men and women. Portable ballpark lights illuminated the compound at night.
Ariadna Vega definitely appeared uncomfortable looking around the place. “Pretty miserable, isn’t it?” she remarked.
“I’ve seen worse, Ari,” Gray said. “The TEMPER units are air-conditioned. The detainees will get three squares a day, water, and medical care while they’re being processed; the kids will get free education; they’ll have access to legal aid. We try to make them as comfortable as possible while they’re here.”
“I don’t see very much privacy.”
“No, I guess not,” Gray said. “This is a detention facility, not a hotel. I’ve done the best I could here with the tools I’m given.”
“I don’t mean you’re not doing enough, Ben,” Ari said apologetically. “It’s just…well, I’ve never been exposed to any of this before.”
“This is light-years better than what we had in Kuwait during Desert Storm,” Gray said. “I would’ve killed for a chance to wash my hair once a week then—here, the detainees can take a shower once a day if they like. The tents we had then were for shit—we couldn’t keep the sand out no matter how hard we tried to seal things up. These TEMPERs are pretty tight.”
They moved on to the next section of the detention facility. There were about two dozen chain-link cells with a cot, a “honey bucket” with a toilet seat, and a small open table next to the cot—no privacy whatsoever. The pens were covered with a large tent, which afforded a little protection against the sun and wind. There was also an open shower station with a few fiberglass shower stalls. Fifteen of the twenty-four stalls were occupied. “This area is for the violent or uncooperative detainees or any criminal suspects,” Gray explained. “Security is a big concern, which is why these cells are completely open. We’re hoping just the sight of these facilities will induce detainees to cooperate once they’re in custody.”
“Where are the gunmen from last night?” Jason asked.
“The two injured migrants were transported to the Border Patrol lockup in San Diego,” Gray said. “Imperial County Sheriff’s Department took the body of the dead migrant to El Centro; it’ll be turned over to the FBI later this morning.”
“Those cells are little more than damned dog-pens!” Ariadna suddenly blurted out disgustedly. “They remind me of the cages at Guantanamo Bay when the terrorist prison was first set up.”
Now Ben Gray was starting to look perturbed at Ariadna’s reactions. “I guess they’re pretty substandard to your way of thinking, Dr. Vega,” he said stonily, “but we put only the worst of the worst here. It’s not meant to be comfortable—it’s meant to keep the bad ones away from the other detainees and to keep our personnel safe until they can be put into the justice system.”
“Ben, I didn’t mean…”
“We’re in the middle of the desert out here, Dr. Vega,” Gray interrupted. “I’ve been given a tough job and not a lot of time to do it in, and if I may say so myself my men and I have done a pretty damned fine job putting this FOL together. If it doesn’t meet with your approval, then I suggest you take your suggestions or comments up the chain of command.”
“As you were, Captain,” Jason said. “Ariadna is just reacting out loud—she’s not commenting on the good job you and your men have done out here.”
“That’s right, Ben,” Ari said. “I’m sorry.” Gray nodded coldly at her, unsure whether to accept her apology or not.
Jason looked at his watch, thanking the powers that be that it was almost time to meet the arriving team members—things were already getting pretty tense here. He wisely took the lead toward the clearing on the north side of the compound, which he knew would allow Gray and Vega to walk together. Ari took the opportunity given her by her longtime friend and partner and touched Ben Gray’s BDU sleeve: “Hey, Ben, I’m really sorry.”
“Forget it, Dr. Vega.”
“I can tell you’re hurting too,” she said. He turned halfway to her and gave her an irritated scowl. “The last thing I think you wanted to do in the Guard is build and run a detention camp, and here I come criticizing your mission.”
“I do what I’m ordered to do,” Gray said. “I don’t have any expectations or preferences—I do the job I’m assigned to the best of my abilities.”
Ari trotted up to catch up, walking closely beside him. “That’s it?” she asked gently.
“What do you mean, ‘That’s it?’ What else is there?”
“I want to know how you feel about imprisoning foreigners in a place like this, out in the middle of nowhere in conditions hardly suited to farm animals, let alone human beings,” Ari said. “Is this the America you swore to protect and defend?”
“It is now, Ari,” Gray said perturbedly. “Listen, they know it’s illegal to cross the borders at other than established crossing points…”
“Maybe they do, but they do it just for a chance to work, to make better lives for themselves…”
“The ‘why’ is just a mitigating factor, Ari—they’re still doing something illegal,” Gray said. “The ‘why’ doesn’t excuse their actions, only lessens their punishment and allows them greater consideration. The reason why that entire detention facility isn’t one big set of chain-link dog-pens is that few illegal aliens are like the ones that murdered those Border Patrol agents.”