by Lewis, Rykar
28
Thursday, March 20th – 0130 hours
The U.S./Mexican Border
The sound of a revved-up engine driving over rough terrain could be heard across the moonlit desert. Siraj’s second-in-command was hit in the thigh and was losing blood fast but even still, the terrorists knew they had to leave the area quickly.
Siraj stood up from where he had fallen and reached for his pistol that Monroe was still clutching. It took a bit of a struggle but finally he loosened the agent’s grip and repossessed his weapon. “Let’s go. Now,” he ordered to his team.
“What about the kid?” one of them asked.
Siraj glanced at the agent. He was covered in blood and sweat and looking in bad condition. Was he dead? If not, should he kill him? He was, after all, the enemy. Even so, he was still just a kid and how could he kill someone so young?
“Leave him,” he declared while turning and beginning to walk off.
“What? Leave him? No. He is an American; I will kill him.”
Siraj spun around. “I said leave him. We will leave him. We have no time to spare. He obviously has friends nearby; do you hear the vehicle coming toward us? Besides, he’ll be dead in a minute.”
The terrorists consented and one of them allowed himself to be used as a crutch for the wounded one. They quickly began to run to distance themselves from the oncoming vehicle but it was of little use.
Siraj looked back and saw the headlights of the Border Patrol SUV coming fast and straight for them. The lights shone on the terrorists, and in the next second, Siraj could see a man poking his head out of the window. He was yelling something that couldn’t be heard over the engine’s noise and Siraj was not about to wait to see what he would do next. Whipping out his pistol, he fired two shots into the agent’s windshield, shattering it. The pursuer didn’t stop though. He was driving with his head out the window and now Siraj could see he had a pistol in his hand.
“Run, go,” Siraj yelled to his team who were faithfully staying with him.
The terrorists ran like mice. They scattered and riddled the approaching vehicle with bullets as they fled.
The SUV stopped and its driver opened the door and rolled onto the ground. Siraj watched as the man fired a few hasty shots into the night. He then saw the driver turn to his bleeding and dying fellow agent. He felt for a pulse, then picked up the younger man, carried him to his vehicle, and laid him in the backseat.
Siraj stayed and watched, and he could almost see the look of indecision on the older agent’s face as he debated whether to pursue or to take his partner to obtain medical help. The fool was standing in perfect range of Siraj’s fire and was broadly presenting himself as a target. The terrorist fired a round at the agent causing him to dive into his vehicle, turn it around, and speed off into the night.
Spinning around, Siraj ran at top speed to catch up with his team who were now gathered on the far side of a large sand mound.
“Hurry, we must go,” he began as he slid up to his men. “The agent has left but there are undoubtedly more coming.” He switched gears as a thought popped into his racing mind. “I’ve not been thinking. I’ve been so desperate to get away I haven’t even remembered why Mr. vun Buvka sent us this route. Remember how he said there was a safe house in Santa Teresa, on…Santa Teresita Drive?”
“Yeah, I think you mentioned that to us,” the wounded man said. “But so what, we can make it to El Paso.”
“No. There’s not enough time. The safe house is closer than our El Paso source’s house. We can make it there quicker and hole up until it’s safe enough to move. Vun Buvka planned it that way just in case we ran into trouble.”
“But the Border Patrol agents are gone. There isn’t anyone else, is there?”
“There are more.”
Everybody looked at their leader and then into the night, expecting some other inbound SUV.
“Not by land this time,” he continued, “but by–”
The distant roar of a Patrol chopper sliced the air, and everyone looked up to see it scanning the desert with its massive searchlight.
“As I said. Come, we must get to Santa Teresita where we can hide.”
“But how?” the wounded man moaned, evidently in immense pain. “The house is miles away and that chopper has a searchlight and he’s on to us.”
“That doesn’t mean he’ll find us. I have a plan,” Siraj confirmed. “But hurry.”
The team stood up and escaped at maximum speed. They weren’t sure that where Siraj was taking them was the right place to go, but they were following. He was their only chance for survival.
After about an hour of running and walking, sometimes dragging their wounded companion, the terrorists topped a thickly-sanded hill and looked down. Lights could be seen in the distance. Lights from a neighborhood. It was a pleasant sight to behold.
“Santa Teresita,” Siraj explained quietly. “Thanks be to Allah we found her.”
The chopper was getting closer and Siraj looked back just as it shone its spotlight right on them.
“You down there,” a voice boomed from over a speaker inside the chopper. “Stop, disarm yourselves, and lay on your bellies. I repeat, stop now and disarm yourselves.”
The broadcasted voice was in Spanish and neither Siraj nor anyone on his team could understand it. But they could guess the message.
Siraj eyed the neighborhood below them and then looked up at the chopper. The safe house was close, but was it close enough? And did he really want to lead this chopper right to it?
* * *
The Border Patrol command center of the El Paso sector was in a state of confusion. It was barely 0200 but everyone had been called in. Everyone of importance that is.
Chief Patrol Agent for the El Paso sector, Arnold Rule, was in disbelief. He had just received word that one of his agents from the Santa Teresa station had been severely wounded by nine illegal aliens from Mexico and was being taken to a local hospital to be treated for a serious gunshot wound. The wounded agent’s partner on duty rescued him and explained the incident to the Santa Teresa Border Patrol station. The instant the agent-in-charge heard what happened, he sent up a chopper to survey the situation and find the illegals.
Things were not going well. The chopper pilot – who had been ordered to make all contact to this sector headquarters – had radioed in about thirty minutes ago saying that he was searching for the illegals and had not come up with anything. It was frustrating. Nine thugs just shot one of Rule’s agents in the chest, then ran off into the night, and his own chopper pilot couldn’t find them. What was wrong? Was there more than what met the eye?
“Sir,” a female agent said in an attempt to get his attention.
“What is it?” Rule asked, swiveling around in his chair and facing her.
“We have an update from the chopper. It’s not good.”
Rule shot up from his chair and snatched the paper that the agent had been holding. He read it quickly.
Found illegals. Likely heading for the Santa Teresita cul-de-sac. Ordered them to stop and disarm themselves but was not heeded. They are running. Pursuing. Request ground units in the cul-de-sac.
“Who received this trash?” Rule demanded to know.
“Uh, Agent Tee at the operations’ communication center. This is about five minutes old.”
Rule crumpled the paper, threw it on the floor, and pulled at his short, receding hair as he began to pace.
“How many of them are armed?” he questioned, not bothering to stop his pacing.
The agent shook her head. “The chopper didn’t say. Neither did the onsite agent who performed the rescue.”
Rule sighed, stopped pacing, and looked her directly in the eye. “Well I guess I’d better make contact with our chopper and get some solid information.”
“Sir, really–”
“Look, I’m not saying you guys aren’t doin’ your job. I’m saying it’s my job to do some things that you don’t. Now tell Te
e I’ll be in there in a second.” The agent didn’t move. “Get to it,” he ordered loudly.
Rule watched as she left the room. Could there really be something that he wasn’t seeing? Something that the entire El Paso Border Patrol sector headquarters wasn’t seeing? Who were these men? Were they illegals or something more dangerous…like terrorists?
Rule closed his eyes for a second and tried to process all that was going on. It wasn’t an easy task to be the leader of the entire sector at a time like this. All the weight was resting on him and he was responsible for everything that happened, right or wrong.
Breathing deeply, he went to the ops center where Tee and a handful of other guys were yelling into radios.
“Tee,” Rule said, getting the man to turn abruptly in his chair, “you got contact with the chopper?”
“Um, yes sir. I mean, I’ve been trying to. Would you like to speak to the pilot?”
“Of course I would. Why do you think I’m here?” Rule snapped.
He grabbed the small radio that Tee was holding out for him and ran his hand down the cord so he could have some slack to walk with it. “Chopper, this is Chief Patrol Agent Arnold Rule, do you copy?”
Static was the only response he received.
“Chopper, this is Arnold Rule at the El Paso sector HQ, do you copy?”
Something came over the radio that was incomprehensible.
“Chopper, did not copy that. Say again, I repeat, say again.”
“I...go...Rule...running...Teresita,” came the muffled and broken response.
“What on earth?” Rule wondered throwing down the radio. “I go Rule running Teresita? What is that supposed to mean.”
“I think he’s trying to tell you the illegals are running for Santa Teresita,” Tee explained.
“Oh yeah, the report said something like that. Santa Teresita?” Rule tried to match a place with the name. “Is that the little country neighborhood in Santa Teresa?”
Tee nodded.
“All right. What do we have that’s nearby?” Rule asked.
“By me.”
“We would have to contact the Santa Teresa station to be sure,” the female agent informed him while reentering the room. “I believe they usually have about two vehicles close by though.”
“Okay, contact Santa Teresa; tell them to get them in there. Last time I was at Santa Teresita a dirt road ran behind the neighborhood along an irrigation ditch I think. Doesn’t it?”
The lady confirmed the statement.
“Have them put the SUVs there. Tell them to shoot to kill. They are authorized to use any force necessary to take these guys out if they see them. Oh, and put another chopper in the air above them. Understand?”
“I do, sir.”
“Then repeat it back to me.”
The agent did so effortlessly and then walked to the other side of the room and radioed the station.
“Let’s get connection with that chopper,” Rule commanded, turning back to Tee who was doodling on a piece of paper.
“Chopper, this is Arnold Rule at the El Paso sector. Do you copy?” he asked on another radio that Tee had handed to him.
“I do, Mr. Rule,” the reply finally came. “The illegals appear to be running to the neighborhood of Santa Teresita. Do you want me to pursue?”
Rule sighed with relief since he had finally gotten through. “It sounded like you were from the last message you sent.”
“I have been.”
“Okay, can you give me a good enough reason why not to continue pursuing them?” Rule questioned in disgust.
“No sir.”
“All right then keep after them. If you see them, I want to know about it. We need to take these guys out but you need to find them first. Got that?”
The radio was silent for a second before the reply came. “Yes, I’ve got it. It isn’t gonna be easy though.”
Rule closed his eyes again. “Why not?”
“Because there’s a whole patch of underbrush and salt cedars around here and they went in them. I can’t see a thing much less find them it’s so thick.”
“Then keep them pinned down in there or something,” he ordered. “Use any force necessary.”
“Roger that.”
“One more thing, Chopper.”
“Go ahead, sir.”
Rule paused and then took in a deep breath. “Do you...is there...do you think these guys are more than illegals? I mean, is there a possibility they’re...terrorists?”
“They definitely are,” the chopper suddenly confirmed. “They are way too heavily armed and way too dangerous to be ordinaries. A couple of those guys have some high-fluting backpacks on as well. Their fervor is shocking. They are...”
“Too good for you to deal with?”
“Mr. Rule, listen. I’ve dealt with illegals all my life. I’ve been with the Patrol for twenty-two years. I’ve busted hundreds of illegal crossers. I’ve seen and done some things with my job that even you haven’t. And I think you need to listen to me.”
“You’re crossing the line there, Chopper,” Rule warned.
“I know, but I need to say this anyway. These guys are more than regular illegals. Even you know it or you wouldn’t have asked me if they were terrorists. Well in my opinion they are, and they are extremely dangerous.”
“And?”
“And I am requesting ground support. All of it you can get. The only way we’re gonna get at them is to go in after them. That’s going to take quite a bit of manpower.”
“Back up a bit. You say they’re so dangerous. Why? What have they done to prove they’re so dangerous?”
The radio went silent for a long while.
“Is it because you know they butchered one of your friends?” Rule asked.
“Sir, listen, please.”
“Answer my question and then I’ll listen to yours.”
“This group isn’t a one-gun show, Mr. Rule,” the pilot pointed out. “They all, mind you all, have top-of-the-line weapons. They’re equipped with night-vision too. All of them. To tip the tables even more, they could pass for Arabs. I just shined a one million candlelight searchlight on them and I got a real good look at their faces. They definitely could pass for Arabs.”
The entire room’s occupants were listening and stared up at Rule.
“Recognize any of them?” Rule demanded to know.
“Mr. Rule, with all due respect, I don’t work for the CIA. I don’t know the faces of terrorists. But I know someone who could help us out.”
Rule looked skyward and questioned, “Chief of the Border Patrol Austin Davis?”
“None other. Sir, I know you don’t like making a whale out of a minnow but this could be serious. Please, you owe it to Monroe and all the people who could die at the hands of these men.”
“Monroe – the kid who got shot up?” Rule checked.
“That’s him. Oh, by the way, one of the two agents got a terrorist.”
“Shot or killed?”
“Shot,” the pilot said. “Leg wound. Looked pretty bad. The guy’s probably gonna bleed to death soon if they don’t get him to a hospital somewhere.”
“You really think they’d try that?” Rule asked sarcastically.
“Of course not. Those terrorists don’t have any concern for each other. At least not at the expense of risking themselves.”
“All right, I’ll report to Davis. Any special requests for what I say to him?”
“No, so long as he gets the full picture.”
“He’ll get it, and he won’t want to hang it on his wall, believe me.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Keep those terrorists pinned in that jungle,” Rule finalized. “Don’t let them out for anything. Notify me if you see them. I’m getting agents on the ground as we speak, and another chopper in the air. Keep me posted.”
“Got it,” the pilot declared. “Stand by, we’re going in.”
Rule dropped the radio and looked at Tee who was picki
ng his fingernails. “Will you cut that out,” he ordered. “That’s a dirty habit and besides that you’d better be watching this radio like a hawk. Anything comes over it you let me know. Understand?”
Tee was rattled by the sudden admonishment. “Uh, yes sir. I will.”
“Sir,” the female agent butted in, “Santa Teresa has agents on the move. Chopper’s inbound too. Should be there any moment.”
“Good,” Rule accepted. The agent turned around and began to leave before Rule finished. “Oh, what else do they have?”
The agent thought for a moment and then explained, “They have two more choppers at their fingertips, ready to go, and I think they said about five more vehicles. Why?”
Rule bit the inside of his mouth. “Radio ST station and tell them to get them down there on the double. Tell them to set up a perimeter around the entire neighborhood and the overgrown part. Have them make contact with our chopper already on site and he’ll tell them where to go.”
Without a word the agent grabbed a radio and carried out the order.
Rule walked from the ops center to his personal office and slumped into his swivel chair. A whale out of a minnow? he thought. How could that pilot think this situation could be a minnow when it’s already the size of Jonah’s monster fish?
29
Thursday, March 20th – 0400 hours
El Paso Border Patrol Sector HQ
“This is Davis – go ahead,” the man answered after a few rings.
Rule was in his office and he was about to brief the Chief of the Border Patrol on the unfolding situation. He always hated doing this but it was his job and he had to do it, like it or not.
“Uh, yes sir,” he began as he tried to steady his quivering voice, “this is Chief Patrol Agent Rule of the El Paso sector.”
“Well good morning Arnold, how are you?”
“I’m fine, sir, thank you. How are you?”
