Being invited to stand on Wilkes’ podium didn’t mean he had to wait for her expected barrage, so Gaspar took the initiative, stepped right up to the microphone, and without waiting for Wilkes to introduce him, said, “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Colonel Charles Gaspar, and I’m the operations group commander for the 144th Fighter Wing, California Air National Guard, based at Fresno Air Terminal. With me is Lieutenant Colonel Al Vincenti, the lead pilot involved in last night’s incident.” Gaspar did not introduce the third officer with them, a young female Air Force captain who stayed away from the podium but within earshot: she was the area defense counsel, the military defense attorney assigned to Al Vincenti, and like any defense attorney her job was to be sure Vincenti was not forced or tricked into answering questions that might harm his defense, should he be brought in front of a court-martial.
“We arc here at the request of FBI Director Wilkes to make some general statements about last night’s incident,” Gaspar continued. “As Colonel Vincenti’s superior officer, and as the representative of the 144th Wing, I would like to speak for the Wing and Colonel—”
But the members of the press didn’t allow him to finish. One reporter shouted out, “Colonel Vincenti, why did you chase Henri Cazaux over San Francisco? Tell us why you wanted him dead. Is it because of what he allegedly did to your partner, Linda McKenzie?”
“Why is it,” Vincenti blurted out, “that you call what Henri Cazaux did ‘alleged,’ and what I did you think is a certainty? Cazaux bombed Mather and San Francisco International, for God’s sake!” The press corps’ photographers snapped away at the pilot’s angry face, and within seconds the reporters were inching back in to hear every word. “And I didn’t ‘chase’ him over San Francisco,” Vincenti continued. “He flew over the city and into the traffic pattern to try to get away from me.”
“But who gave you the order to pursue him into San Francisco? Who gave you the order to attack him?”
This time the area defense counsel pushed her body in front of the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, Colonel Vincenti will be appearing in front of an Air Force flight review board and accident investigation board, and he will certainly be part of the FBI’s investigation. Please don’t try to convict him in the media as well.”
“I think the Captain is right,” Wilkes said, holding up her hands protectively in front of the area defense counsel. “Colonel Vincenti is not on trial here, and we don’t expect him to be responsible for what someone like Henri Cazaux does.” Those remarks made Vincenti and his defense counsel relax—and that’s when Wilkes continued: “But I think this incident points out the enormous hazards involved with asking the military to participate in any way other than in an indirect supporting role in law enforcement operations. The military’s primary function is to destroy and kill, and that’s what Colonel Vincenti was trying to do last night when he drove Cazaux’s plane over San Francisco.”
“I did not drive Cazaux over San Francisco, he flew there all by himself,” Vincenti snapped. He stepped over toward the microphone, and Wilkes had no choice but to give ground. “And the military’s primary job is not to destroy and kill—our job is to ensure national security by protecting this country from all enemies, domestic as well as foreign. A terrorist in the sky is a threat to our national security, and it calls for a military response. Just because we operate over American soil rather than foreign soil doesn’t mean the military can’t or shouldn’t do the job. The cops and the federal authorities—even the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms—are all outgunned. Cazaux realizes this now—”
“Excuse me, Colonel, but this is not the time for a sermon or a call to arms,” Wilkes said, smiling benignly as if Vincenti had cracked a joke or was a streetcomer preacher. “The FBI can handle Henri Cazaux—that I promise.
“I think that concludes this press conference,” Wilkes said into the microphone. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming.” Wilkes’ security team appeared in front of the podium as if by magic, and except for a few questions shouted out by reporters, the briefing was over. But Wilkes was not through. She stepped away from the microphone, turned her back on the cameras and reporters, and seethed at Vincenti, “I strongly advise you, Colonel, to keep your mouth shut and to cooperate in every way possible with this investigation. This is not the time to be mouthing off about things you know nothing about. Do you understand me, Colonel?”
Vincenti was going to reply, but a sudden motion got his attention. He saw an Air Force C-20B, a military version of the Gulfstream III business jet, roll up to the parking ramp, aiming directly at the podium—and it kept on coming. Just as it appeared as if it was going to hit the red rope at the edge of the ramp, and just as the FBI security agents started to reach for their concealed weapons, the jet turned away, came to a stop, and shut down engines. As it was obviously intended, the members of the press stopped and turned their full attention to the jet as the airstair opened up and the C- 20’s passengers emerged.
Vincenti was surprised—no, shocked—not by the look of the man who came down out of the C-20, but by Lani Wilkes’ reaction to seeing him. The tall, wiry, gray-haired man that stepped out of the Air Force VIP jet commanded instant attention.
The other men and women that followed the first man were well-known national figures as well—including the former Vice President of the United States, Kevin Martin- dale; the junior U.S. senator from Texas, Georgette Heyerdahl; the U.S. House of Representatives’ Minority Leader from Georgia, Paul Wescott; and a congressman from the San Francisco Bay Area, Samuel Leyland—and it was Martindale who took the lead and headed toward Director Wilkes and the podium, but the press was riveted on the tall, imposing man beside him.
“I sincerely apologize for this late arrival and our intrusion,” Kevin Martindale said into the microphone as the members of the press hurriedly assembled back at the podium. “We were watching Judge Wilkes’ press conference on the TV, and when we saw it was over I didn’t think anyone would mind if we parked here. Sorry for the lousy parking job, but it was my first time at the controls of one of these babies. It’s hard to drive and read the instruction booklet at the same time.”
He waited for the laughter to die down, then continued: “I’m sure you all know my colleagues here. Mr. Wescott is of course the House Minority Leader, and our gracious host for this fact-finding trip. Senator Heyerdahl is the new cochairman of the Senate Subcommittee on the Future of the Military and National Defense, part of the Senate Military Affairs Committee, the group which is trying to design a framework for the U.S. military in the next fifteen to fifty years. And I believe you all know retired Coast Guard Rear Admiral Ian Hardcastle, former commander of the U.S. Border Security Force, the antismuggling and border security group, also known as the Hammerheads. Paul Wescott was kind enough to notify me that Congressman Leyland from San Jose was heading a congressional investigation on the incident last night, and he invited myself, Senator Heyerdahl, and Admiral Hardcastle to come along as his guests and advisers.”
Wilkes tried hard not to show it, but the appearance of these four persons, and especially Ian Hardcastle, was precisely the last thing she needed right now, and her stomach was doing exasperated backflips.
Since the Cabinet-level Department of Border Security was disbanded in 1993 after the new Administration took office, Ian Hardcastle, who founded the paramilitary group called the Border Security Force back around 1990, was regularly on every TV and radio talk show in the country, talking about the decay of the U.S. military in general and of home defense in particular. Every move the Administration made in terms of the military—efforts in Somalia, policies regarding Bosnia, defense cutbacks, gays in the military, base closures, and a hundred other topics—was routinely criticized by Hardcastle, seemingly minutes after a decision was made by the President or his Cabinet, oftentimes even before they made a move. Hardcastle, who was articulate, handsome as hell, well-read, and knowledgeable about every military program, was a
formidable opponent.
“I would first like to extend my sincere condolences to the families and colleagues of California Air National Guard Major Linda McKenzie; Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms Special Agents Russo, Foreman, Wickers, Kritchek, and Bowman, and all those who lost a loved one in San Francisco,” former Vice President Martindale continued. “It was a tragedy of simply shocking proportions that has outraged this nation. It is absolutely imperative that Henri Cazaux and all those who were responsible for this insane and ruthless attack be brought to justice immediately.
“But it is also in our best interests to do something to ensure that a tragedy like this never is allowed to happen again in the future,” Martindale went on. “As you all know, Admiral Hardcastle has been very actively speaking out against some of the current Administration’s policies regarding the military and national security and defense issues. Up until now, his has been largely a lone voice shouting as it were against the winds of change. Since our defeat in the last election, Admiral Hardcastle has been encouraging me to give up my self-imposed exile from the national debates of the issues of the times and get involved in shaping policies for the future. Unwisely, I resisted.” He half-turned to Ian Hardcastle, gave him a wry smile, and added, “Frankly, Ian, you old sea dog, you sometimes come on as quietly as a tidal wave.
“But last week, in a speech to the National Press Club, Admiral Hardcastle talked about the threat of terrorism here in the United States. After reading the text of his speech, I made a few inquiries into some of the issues he raised and the accuracy of the facts he presented. In short, Admiral Hardcastle knows what he’s talking about. He virtually predicted this very incident. That’s when I decided to join forces with him, the American Congressional Citizens Alliance, and the Project 2000 Task Force, and accept an invitation by members of Congress to investigate this tragedy and make some observations about the threat that faces us and what we can do to stop it.”
It was a thinly disguised reason for being here, and Lani Wilkes and most of the members of the national press knew it. The Project 2000 Task Force was a group of right-of- center moderates and conservatives who would in all likelihood form the basis for a major run on the White House in 1996. Formed after the 1992 elections, the American Congressional Citizens Alliance was a mirror image of the Project 2000 Task Force, composed of present and past members of Congress, including one-fourth of the U.S. Senate and about one hundred members of the House of Representatives. After its inception, Project 2000 was most noteworthy for who was not in it, namely, the former Vice President, Kevin Martindale, who had always been considered a major front-runner in the next presidential elections. Obviously, with this surprise appearance as a major player in the Task Force, he was now out of seclusion and back in the White House hunt. It was a very unexpected and dramatic coming-out for the former Vice President to take on one of the Administration’s toughest and most influential personalities. Worse for her, right in the middle of her own press conference.
But such a move was typical of Martindale. A former U.S. Congressman from Minnesota and former mayor of Minneapolis, Martindale’s style of politics was full-speed- ahead, smash-face, down-in-the-dirt nasty. It was those traits that had made him such a prized pit bull in dealing with Congress, the liberal left, and others during his two terms as Vice President during the previous Administration. Tough and conservative, he was one of the country’s biggest advocates of tougher laws, tougher sentences, the death penalty, and a strong military. During his term as Vice President, he had been a huge supporter of Admiral Ian Hardcastle’s Border Security Force (the Hammerheads) and his disdain for the current Administration had been known practically from the moment the new President was sworn in. Martindale had little use for a man whom he considered a Southern political snake with a duplicitous and questionable private life. He had even less use for the President’s wife, a tough-as-nails political infighter he and every other Republican in the capital referred to derisively as the Steel Magnolia.
Representative Wescott, Senator Heyerdahl, and Representative Leyland all made brief comments after Vice President Martindale. The usually outspoken Hardcastle declined to make a comment or take any questions, which probably evoked more questions and surprise than if he had spoken. Afterward, Martindale and his group left the podium and encircled FBI Director Wilkes and her staff. “Judge Wilkes, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Martindale said, extending a hand. The press, out of earshot, snapped away as Wilkes took his hand. “I hope you’ll forgive this intrusion, but the Senate subcommittee wanted to be in on this investigation from the very beginning, so we had little choice.”
Wilkes tried very hard to continue to maintain her composure. “I would be happy to brief the subcommittee or any other chamber of Congress on the status of this investigation at any time, Mr. Vice President,” Wilkes said crisply, not bothering to acknowledge Martindale’s apology. It was obvious to all that she was greatly displeased with her press-conference-tumed-circus. “It wasn’t necessary for the Senate to appoint a commission; I pledge full cooperation. I’m of course happy to see you and pleased to be working with you, but all this congressional attention to an unfortunate but random act of violence seems rather unusual, Mr. Vice President.”
“I seem to recall an investigation begun by the Senate Judiciary Committee back a few years ago, around 1991,” Martindale said, affixing the beautiful Lani Wilkes with a boyish, mischievous hint of a smile, “that produced a lawsuit against the old Border Security Force in a Mexican drug-smuggling-investigation incident. You might be familiar with that case, Judge Wilkes—that lawsuit was filed in your court.”
Wilkes did indeed remember the Maria Fuentes incident. A young, pregnant female Mexican drug “mule”—not a drug dealer, not a true smuggler, but someone who, most times knowingly, carries drugs—had swallowed thirty condoms filled with cocaine, almost thirty pounds and two hundred thousand dollars’ worth, and had tried to take the drugs into the United States on board a small motorboat, with two young children. She was detected, but could have gone unchallenged had she not panicked and gunned the engine when the Border Security Force’s V-22 Sea Lion armed interceptor aircraft flew near her. The chase took two hours, with a small air force of sophisticated aircraft buzzing overhead.
Fuentes ran the boat aground near a popular seaside resort at Palmetto Beach, near Mobile, Alabama. The woman grabbed her two kids and tried to flee across the beach on foot. To the astonishment of about a hundred stunned onlookers, she was finally apprehended in a spectacular assault by the V-22 tilt-rotor aircraft. But during the arrest, one of the condoms of cocaine inside the woman broke open, poisoning her and creating an instantaneous stillbirth for everyone to watch, including Fuentes’ two terrified children.
The public outcry was deafening—and it was all directed against the Hammerheads; then-Vice President Martindale, who was a strong Department of Border Security ally; and then-co-commander of the Border Security Force Admiral Ian Hardcastle. In response, the Senate Judiciary Committee unexpectedly launched an investigation, “leaking” its supposedly classified information to the press, which led to a lawsuit filed on behalf of the dead woman’s family charging the Hammerheads with an unreasonable pursuit, unreasonable “search and seizure”—actually charging the Hammerheads with using the V-22 to force the woman to disgorge the drugs—and unreasonable use of force. Federal Judge Lani Wilkes’ court blasted the government, equating the Hammerheads with East German border guards shooting Germans trying to escape over the Berlin Wall.
The government was ordered to pay an incredible ten- million-dollar settlement to the dead woman’s family and to some of the onlookers, who claimed they were “traumatized” by watching the incident. Kevin Martindale and Ian Hardcastle were publicly ridiculed. Although the verdict was overturned by the U.S. Supreme Court years later on appeal, the case was regarded as the beginning of the end of the Hammerheads and the Department of Border Security, which was abolished shortly af
ter the new President took the oath of office in 1993.
“I remember the Fuentes case very well, Mr. Vice President,” Wilkes said uneasily. “But the Judiciary Committee was completely within its bounds to investigate the incident then. Besides, that was an investigation of a serious incident by the Border Security Force, not of an ongoing FBI criminal investigation. The FBI enjoys a certain immunity from Congressional oversight in the course of an investigation. I’m sure you understand ...”
“I can’t speak for the Senate, Judge Wilkes, but I think the rules have changed—we’ve been authorized to proceed,” Martindale said. He accepted a sealed folder from an aide. It carried the seal of the U.S. Senate on its cover. “And I assure you, we won’t interfere with your investigation. We’ll just require a briefing—no more than three times per day—with the items stated in this folder included. Also, we have observers that will accompany some of your investigators. If you would, please provide us with a list of your senior investigators, and we’ll pair an observer up with him or her right away.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Vice President, but there’s been some mistake,” Lani Wilkes interrupted. “I can’t allow nonBureau observers on an investigation. And I wish I had the time to give you special briefings on the status of the case, but I don’t. The Bureau gives daily press briefings in Washington.”
“Our observers are fully trained former FBI, DIA, or CIA investigators, Judge Wilkes,” Martindale said. “They know your procedures—our chief Bureau consultant is Jeffrey Peck.” Wilkes’ eyes grew wide—Peck was the former Bureau deputy director, a longtime FBI veteran, fired from his post as number-two man because of allegations of wrongdoing. No specific charges were ever brought against him. Peck had vehemently argued his innocence and never resigned even though the pressure to do so was enormous, but there had to be a housecleaning when the new Administration came in, so Peck was forced out. The President expended a lot of political capital to fire Peck—now they were going to face him again. Martindale’s pleasant smile dimmed a bit as he added, “And I certainly hope the three briefings a day won’t be too much of a burden for you—because our charter demands nothing less of you. I’m sure you understand.”
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