“The American government will thoroughly investigate any and all charges of torture or cruelty to…”
“Then you admit that these cases exist?”
“I admit nothing, Madam President—in fact, I have received no reports of…”
“We have eyewitnesses to such acts, Mr. Conrad—in fact, one of the eyewitnesses was also a victim of such cruelty and illegal treatment, the consul general of the Mexican consulate in San Diego,” Maravilloso interrupted. “He was just recently captured, arrested, and falsely imprisoned in a cage so small that he was forced to stoop on his hands and knees until he was released at the orders of your director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, who was also a witness to this unspeakable action! The consul-general, a well-known, fully credentialed, and well-respected member of the Mexican diplomatic corps—forced to be imprisoned in a cell barely large enough for a dog?”
“The results of our investigation will be released as soon as possible, Madam…”
“That is not acceptable, sir!” Maravilloso cried. “We have reports not just from our people, but from very high-ranking American Justice Department officials, attesting to the accuracy of these charges!”
“Madam President,” Samuel Conrad tried, “I don’t have time to listen to speeches…”
“Mr. President, I respectfully request that you release all Mexican citizens into my custody immediately, or you risk creating an international incident and ruining the peace and trust between our countries,” the Mexican president said angrily. “If you refuse, I will immediately file protests with the Organization of American States, the United Nations, and the World Court, and I will ask American advisers to request that Amnesty International and the American Civil Liberties Union file lawsuits against the United States requesting injunctions to stop this gross violation of human rights.”
Samuel Conrad hesitated—and the reaction to that silence was as if a large cannon had been set off in the Oval Office. “Sir, tell her to mind her own business!” Jefferson said quietly but emphatically. “She knows she has no legal recourse here, or else she would’ve taken action already, not just threatened us like this…”
“It may not get her anywhere legally, but she’ll succeed in getting the entire world’s attention,” Secretary of Homeland Security Lemke said.
“Madam President, the United States asserts its right to secure its borders and enforce its laws,” Conrad said into the phone. “No legal or human rights are being violated: they have full access to legal representation, religious facilities, privacy, food and water, and medical care. They are…”
“Oh no,” Kinsly moaned again. “What in hell is he doing now?”
The President looked—and saw Minister Felix Díaz with a bullhorn to his lips, shaking his fists as he led a chant directed at the detainees at Rampart One! “What is he saying, Thomas?” he asked.
“I’ll get a translator in here…”
“‘¡Usted es héroes mejicanos! ¡Lucha para su libertad!’ ‘You are heroes of Mexico! Fight for your freedom,’” Ray Jefferson said.
“My God, he’s inciting them to riot!” Attorney General Wentworth exclaimed. “Can they hear him?”
“I don’t think so,” Jefferson said, “but they have radios and televisions in that facility—I’m sure he’s being broadcast to them.”
“Well, pull the plug!” Kinsly said. “Shut off those transmissions, or confiscate those radios!”
“It’s too late, Mr. Kinsly,” Jefferson said evenly. To the President, he said, “Sir, it might be too late to stop whatever happens next. We shouldn’t overreact. We can make full repairs to the base, but we’ll need to increase manpower at this and all other bases, especially for security at the detention facility. Our forces there need to be armed and authorized to oppose any action by the Mexican authorities.”
“What are you talking about, Sergeant Major?” the President asked absently. “What do you think is going to hap…?”
“Look!” Kinsly blurted. In response to the Mexican minister’s loudspeaker calls, several dozen men and boys had jumped on the chain-link fencing surrounding the detention facility and had begun swinging on it. At first the fence looked plenty sturdy enough, but it did not take long for the swaying to become wider and wider, until it was apparent that the fence was weakening—and the more the fence weakened, the more detainees jumped on it and joined in, causing it to weaken faster.
The camera swung back to Díaz, who was now getting into one of the news helicopters that had landed a short distance away. The helicopter lifted off, and soon his sound-amplified voice could be clearly heard on the broadcast. “He keeps shouting ‘freedom, freedom,’” Jefferson said. His cellular phone vibrated; in a major breach of Oval Office etiquette, Jefferson stepped away from the President and the others after checking the caller ID. “Go ahead…yes, we’re watching it, Major,” he said.
“Order Richter to get those people off that fence!” Lemke shouted.
“But don’t use that damned robot, for God’s sake!” Wentworth added.
Jefferson said nothing but continued to listen. Finally: “I concur, Major,” he said. “Proceed. Keep me advised.”
“Was that Richter?” Lemke asked. Without waiting to hear the answer, he said, “You didn’t order him to get those people off the fence?”
“No, Secretary Lemke,” Jefferson said. “He recommended that we establish a full defensive posture, and I concurred.”
“Defensive? You mean you’re not going to do anything but watch those detainees break out? They’re rioting out there! What do you intend to do about it?”
“Nothing, except guard what we can and minimize the damage,” Jefferson said simply. He answered his cell phone again, listened, then closed it. “Rampart One reports that Díaz’s helicopter is now in U.S. airspace, and is heading straight for the base. He is broadcasting on a PA system on the helicopter and can easily be heard by everyone at Rampart One.”
“For God’s sake…” the President muttered. He picked up the telephone on his desk. “Get the Secretary of State over here right away.”
“Mr. President, we have to call out the National Guard…we have to bring in troops to secure that area,” Jeffrey Lemke said. “We cannot allow the Mexicans to freely fly across the border like this and spring those prisoners!”
“Mr. President, again, I’m urging restraint,” Ray Jefferson said. “It’s too late to do anything at Rampart One now.”
“Too late…?”
“By the time we move one Marine from Camp Pendleton or one soldier from Yuma or El Centro, it’ll long be over, Mr. Lemke,” Jefferson said, more firmly this time. “We’re outgunned. We can launch some Cobra and Apache gunships from Twentynine Palms…”
“Are you crazy, Jefferson?” Kinsly asked incredulously.
“We’re fully within our rights to chase away any aircraft inside that TFR, Mr. Kinsly,” Jefferson said. “I’m not saying we engage those helicopters, but maybe just the sight of an armed helicopter will defuse this incident…”
“And if someone gets a twitchy trigger finger, it’ll escalate it,” Lemke interjected. “Just because we have the right to do something doesn’t mean we should.”
Jefferson could do nothing else but nod in agreement. The President angrily slapped a hand on his desk, then shook his head and chuckled gloomily. “President Maravilloso and Felix Díaz took a chance, and it paid off,” President Conrad said resignedly. “Like you said, Sergeant Major, I’m damned either way, right?”