The Battle for Houston...The Aftermath

by T I WADE

  “I haven’t seen our targets yet,” he stated in a whisper to his uncle, who nodded. As they were checked at the third security point, Carlos noted that the first security check point was about to start packing its scanners up. Carlos nudged his uncle who turned and noticed as well.

  “We still have more people to come. Stay alert until the prisoners are checked through with their bodyguards. There will be nine guards with three prisoners!” Uncle Philippe shouted back to the men at the first and second checkpoints. The president shouted to the security points that they were to stand on duty until the prisoners entered, and then they were to leave.

  Carlos had surmised that Calderón and his partner-in-crime would be late and they were; the members were seated and waited five minutes before the two men and their aides arrived, maybe hoping to miss the security inspections. There were shouts and orders given; the noise could be heard through the still open Chamber doors.

  Finally, the two men appeared, both looking angry, with their aides close behind and all without their briefcases. The four aides were the same men who sat behind them during the morning session.

  Charlie Meyers and three of the Seal team were sitting in the same chairs as in the morning session, behind the Ministries. Two of the admiral’s bodyguards sat behind him and right next to Gonzalez’s aides. To Carlos the six men sitting behind the three members looked more like a football defense line diplomatic than aides.

  “We start the afternoon session with a report from the Ambassador to the United States, and the lead up to these Colombian prisoners being captured inside the United States. Then these prisoners will be brought in and viewed,” stated the Speaker of the House.

  “Mr. President, members of the Colombian government, what I am about to tell you came straight from the President of the United States, his Chief of Staff and information from the Mexican Armed Forces who tracked these men through Mexican General Miguel Ortez.”

  For twenty minutes, the Ambassador told a rapt room the movements of this army of nearly 250,000 men from nearly every country in South and Central America. He described the capture of the Panama Canal by 10,000 Chinese soldiers, who also weren’t meant to be there, to the final battle in Houston and the capture of the three leaders. He did not say anything about Seal Team Six and during the report Carlos kept his eyes directed in Senator Calderón’s direction, and looked for any movement around his area.

  Only towards the end of the twenty-minute report, and when the Ambassador stated that the three men would shortly be brought in, did Carlos notice slight movements from behind the area. One of the aides sitting behind the senator quietly got up, walked forward, bent carefully over the senator and whispered into his ear. The same had happened several minutes earlier when Gonzalez signaled one of his aides to get up and, as if to pass on information, whispered into his ear.

  “Be ready, son,” whispered his father. “I’m sure everybody in that group is now armed.”

  The ambassador looked at Senator Calderón and smiled, then he nodded towards the armed guards securing the closed doors and they opened them and exited. Three bedraggled men, with their hands tied behind their backs and cloth hoods over their heads were brought in one by one. Three Special Forces guards helped each man in and were ordered by Philippe to stand with their backs in the corner furthest from the door.

  Only one member had to turn to view the prisoners; the rest of the main table just turned their heads to the left of the president.

  “These men were handed over by the United States government and their president,” began the Ambassador, “and asked that a trial be held here in Bogotá for their attack on the soil of two foreign countries, Mexico and the United States of America. Of course, these criminals did not act alone and the governments of both of these countries would like their leaders to be found and prosecuted as well.”

  There was total silence in the room and even Carlos couldn’t help but look at the three dirty men standing there, about thirty feet from where he sat.

  Uncle Philippe nodded and one of the Seals undid the hood from the first prisoner; there was a loud gasp from many in the room when Pedro Calderón’s dirty face was shown. Carlos fixed his eyes on the aides behind the senator and then on the senator’s face. He didn’t show any emotion. Carlos was aware of Charlie Meyers moving slightly near his right shoulder, but didn’t look. He already knew what the Seal was doing.

  “Señor Pedro Calderón, for you members who have never seen this man before, is a Colombian drug cartel member and was born in Bogotá in 1975.”

  Carlos moved his eyes towards Pedro and noticed that he didn’t look in the senator’s direction, but in the ambassador’s direction and then spat on the floor.

  “Senator Calderón, could this be one of your family?” Ambassador Rodriquez asked blatantly.

  “Never saw this gangster in my life!” The senator smiled calmly at the ambassador. “But, Ambassador Rodriquez, he seems to know you well.”

  There was still silence and a sort of relief went through the members, thinking that any danger had passed. This Calderón wasn’t the senator’s family. Ambassador Rodriquez nodded a second time and the hood was lifted from the second man’s head.

  “Our second captive, Alberto Calderón, born in El Centro on San Andrés in 1971,” the ambassador stated calmly, looking directly at the senator this time. “Maybe since your villa is on San Andrés, maybe this Calderón is a member of your family, Senator?”

  “There must be a dozen Calderón families living in San Andrés and another 100 families on the mainland. How am I supposed to know them all? Do you think I was a father to all these children?” the senator replied. Carlos saw this time that the second Calderón had certainly surprised the senator, and even more so, Gonzalez. Both men had reacted this time, sitting straight up.

  “Well, maybe the third man might be known to you,” and the Ambassador nodded for the third time and the hood came off revealing Manuel Calderón’s face. This time there was a gasp from certain members sitting around the table and suddenly all hell broke loose. Many knew this Calderón!

  Carlos was watching the senator’s face, which froze at seeing his first born son staring back at him and he didn’t make a movement but Police Chief Gonzalez suddenly moved next to him, a small pistol in his hand and pointed it at the admiral sitting right next to him.

  Before a warning could get out of Carlos’ mouth, he felt movement next to him and he saw the police chief pull the trigger twice. Then the pistol was turned rapidly, and its third shot hit the ambassador in the forehead as three holes suddenly opened up the police chief’s own forehead.

  The senator had now risen, as had the four men behind him; he, too, had a small pistol in his hand and Senator Calderón shot the President of Colombia twice before turning his aim towards the ambassador who was already hit. Senator Calderón got off a third shot at the minister sitting next to the president before the silenced weapon in Charlie Meyers’ hand fired three times, taking off the senator’s entire shooting arm, from the hand upwards.

  By now nearly everybody was clearing their chairs and trying to get under the table. Two of the aides behind Gonzalez went down, but not before shooting many of the ministers trying to get out of harm’s way. Calderon’s “aides” were already standing on their chairs, and helping to mow down ministers with one man, Carlos saw, aiming at his own father and the second one about to aim directly at Air Force General Rodriquez.

  Carlos rammed his father sideways and tried to push him onto the ground to cover him. He felt a bullet slice through the side of his body, just above the right hip and an inch below the Kevlar jacket as he turned and a second furrowed across his forehead, right above both eyes as his attention was on his father’s moving body. He watched as another bullet entered his father’s arm, just outside the protected area and he felt warm blood gush over his face as his body fell onto the older man beneath him. His head hit the floor hard and that was the last he remembered.

&nb
sp; He came to with a nurse looking over him. Seeing his eyelids flutter, she smiled at him then disappeared from his view and called somebody. His head felt heavily bandaged and he couldn’t feel his left arm. Actually he couldn’t feel anything, Carlos felt no pain; the room looked fuzzy, and a new face appeared in front of him, a man with a white coat.

  “Señor you are alive, but you need rest. You have lost much blood and need to sleep. Here is something to knock you out.”

  When he again regained consciousness, his arm hurt and he managed to move his fingers to make sure they worked. There were a couple of machines around him beeping, and slowly he moved the fingers on his other hand and then the toes of both feet.

  “You have not lost any body movement, Señor,” said a nurse, who must have been sitting next to his bed but out of his view. “You have two bad flesh wounds and were pretty much out of blood when you arrived.”

  ‘Where is my father, Manuel Rodriquez?” he asked weakly.

  “He is about the same as you, also one non-lethal wound, lost a lot of blood and is in the next room,” she answered.

  “And my uncles?” he asked.

  “I cannot say anymore. It is five in the morning and you will have visitors in about eight hours time. Now sleep and let your body heal, Señor,” the nurse responded.

  Carlos was sitting up, his head feeling like he had hit a train head on, when Air Force General Rodriquez walked into his room eight hours later. He had awakened an hour earlier and the nurse, a new one with a different voice, raised the top of the bed so that he could take a drink of water. A pain pill came with the water and she told him to only move when necessary; his hip wound was too fresh to hold its stitches with any sudden and abrupt movement.

  His head hurt like hell, like a migraine, and his right hip and whole leg felt stiff and sore. He didn’t really want to move, but felt a little better when his eyes focused on the room; he could now see.

  The same doctor had entered a few minutes earlier than his uncle. “Good to see you feeling a little better, Señor Rodriquez. You are very lucky the bullets didn’t hit any important parts of your body; the loss of blood from the hole above your hip was the main problem with your being shot.”

  “And my father?” he asked.

  “The president is doing fine and is in the next room to yours…” the doctor replied being interrupted.

  “I don’t care about the president, what about my father?” Carlos asked.

  “As I said, Señor, the new president, your father is slightly better than you, took only one bullet in the under arm and is already in a meeting in the room next to yours,” the doctor smiled.

  “My father is the President of Colombia?” Carlos asked, shutting his eyes and hoping the pain pill would hurry up.

  “I cannot say anymore; you will be visited soon, and that pill will help your head in a few minutes,” the doctor replied and left the room. He shut his eyes until he heard more people enter his room.

  “Good to see you have managed to sit up, Carlos,” General Rodriquez stated as he entered the room.

  “What about the others?” Carlos asked.

  “A bad day yesterday, young Carlos, for the Rodriquez family, but maybe a good day for Colombia,” he responded pulling up a chair and sitting down. “I have a slight wound, one bullet grazed me slightly, nothing like yours and, somebody has to keep the country together.”

  “What happened, Uncle?” Carlos asked. “All I remember is falling on my father and that was it until I woke up in this bed.”

  “You saved your father’s life, Carlos. One of the bullets that hit you would have killed him if you hadn’t pushed him out of the way. Manuel is alive, thanks to your fast and brave work.”

  “And the others?” Carlos asked. “I saw Uncle Luiz get shot, twice I think, and then I pushed my father down.

  “Yes, Luiz was actually shot four times; three of the shots hit his bulletproof jacket, one didn’t. He is still alive and on life support. He is in ICU, and we are hoping he will recover; it is touch and go with poor Luiz. Unfortunately, Philippe was killed, two shots from different pistols. The president and six of the highest ministers were also killed. Gonzalez looked like a colander with so many holes in him. The senator was shot in his right arm and is still alive to face trial. Their aides were all killed by the American Seal Team.”

  “And my father?” Carlos asked.

  “Your father, the new President of Colombia; he was elected late last night once the Chambers had been cleaned and the remaining ministers voted to have a Rodriquez in the hot seat. They wanted me, but I refused and suggested a man who had very few ties with any remaining drug lords or cartel members here in Colombia. Your father was the first choice and you the second. In absentia, we gave the job to your father who has reluctantly agreed and is now keen to help get our country back on its feet.”

  Chapter 3

  The Meeting on Capitol Hill

  The meeting at Capitol Hill finally got underway. Carlos returned to his seat a minute or so before the entrance of the president. Sally was with him and they took their seats as the president’s entrance was announced and everyone stood.

  Preston noticed that the president still looked fit as he passed; his hair was graying, but the man looked healthy and had his usual glow about him.

  Instead of shaking many people’s hands, he smiled as he moved forward and headed for his seat. The Speaker of the House was a congressman standing-in for the former Speaker, and he worked his way through the opening procedures. The vice-president’s chair and the chairs of the leader of the opposition were both empty.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States,” the Speaker stated and sat down.

  “Thank you, Mr. Speaker. Members of Congress, members of the armed forces, citizens, and guests of the United States, I welcome you to Capitol Hill. So much water has passed under the bridge since I stood here more than a year ago,” began the president, “so many people have died since then, here in the United States, North America and around the world. We will not know the full details of this world-wide atrocity for a long time to come. We do have limited communications with our bases in Europe and Japan. We also have limited communications with the countries of Australia, New Zealand, and Colombia. I have been on the phone with the leaders of these countries, many of whom are new leaders filling in for others. They, themselves, need years to get their countries back on their feet and do not yet know the total devastation in their countries. We, the United States of America, are now the most modern country in the world. We have the best communications, the only reasonably sophisticated air force, the only satellite system and one of two operative railway systems. Thanks go to so many who helped keep this country on its feet and kept the survivors safe and fed. We are so lucky to have Americans and non-Americans who have helped in their way to keep this country alive and victorious in the face of invasions. There were two invasions—one from Zedong Electronics in China and the second, a collection of drug cartels from Central and South America.

  Thanks to our men and women, we beat these invasions back; worked with the limited resources we had, and kept our country and our land in one piece. It is not possible to thank everyone, but many will be thanked in different ways. Today, I would like to thank members of our armed forces and civilians for their distinctive service to our country.”

  Nobody knew who would be getting medals today, but it was well known that several medals were to be awarded.

  “I will start with our armed forces. I have the honor to award the Air Force Congressional Medal of Honor for the second time, posthumously, to General Peter J. Allen, United States Air Force, for his leadership and command in thwarting the first invasion against the U.S.A. Everyone please stand and observe a minute of silence for the general.” Everybody did. “General Pete Allen leaves no family and his two medals, both designed on a metal plaque from an AC-130 gunship will be hung in the Oval Office.” There was silence.

  “N
ow, I would like to award the Congressional Medal of Honor to the following recipients here with us today. Air Force Medal of Honor to General William B. Patterson, Navy Congressional Medals of Honor to Admiral Martin J. Rogers, Lieutenant Charles H. Meyers and, Lieutenant Joseph A. Paul.” The men rose and headed forward, each receiving his medal over his head to hang around the neck; they stood in a line as everybody stood and applauded.

  “Second, I would like to award four air force personnel the Air Force Cross for bravery in the face of the enemy: Majors Sally M. Powers, Jennifer S. Watkins, Joseph M. Chong and Lee D. Wong. Please come forward.” And the four airmen received their medals. It was a proud day for Sally’s parents who had been flown in for the ceremony.

  “Now I would like to give out ten Presidential Medals of Freedom, all awarded with Distinction, to U.S. civilians, in or not in the service industries, who helped keep our country stay free before and during our conflict. First, I would Like to posthumously give the Presidential Medal of Freedom to Wolfgang D. Von Roebels, a German immigrant who, after the Second World War became an American citizen. I would also like to award the Presidential Medal of Honor with Distinction to his son, Michael W. Von Roebels, and his granddaughter, Martie A. Von Roebels. This one family has been instrumental in keeping our country safe for over four decades. Michael, Martie, please come up and receive your family’s three medals.” Preston felt Martie rise next to him and felt proud of his soon-to-be wife.

  With a standing ovation, they were presented with their medals. “I would next like to award the following U.S. citizens the Medal of Freedom, also all with Distinction: Barbara B. Metcalf, Margaret B. Smart, Michael R. Mallory, Buck A. McKinnon, Carlos M. Rodriquez, Detective William A. Smart, and Preston M. Strong.”

  Again there was much applause as the medal recipients had their medals placed over their heads and stood in a line facing the chamber. Preston felt good and could see both Little Beth jumping up and down, and Clint standing and waving several rows back, as excited as he and Martie. They returned to their seats.