“Pull up over there!” he ordered, pointing at a Multidivisas bank that overlooked the river.
“You two go over to the riverside and when I signal empty your magazines towards the bridge.”
As the car drew to a stop, the two gunmen in the rear barked acceptance of El Jefe’s orders and scuttled across the road and positioned themselves amongst the bushes, ensuring they had a clear line of sight to the border bridge.
El Jefe judged the distance at just over five hundred yards, outside of the range of his gunmen but well within the range of his Heckler amp; Koch MSG90 sniper rifle.
Chapter 28
With nearly half of all US exports to Mexico travelling through it, closing the Laredo — Nuevo Laredo border was no small gesture by the Republican Governor. Its closure was going to hit business hard and by default the Governor. It was with this thought ringing in his ears that Colonel George N. Masters of The Texas National Guard (Reserve) had stationed his four troop carriers on the main bridge crossing the Rio Grande into Mexico. With only the small reserve party at his disposal, he had little more might to project but at least the four M113 Bradley personnel carriers made a fairly impressive statement as they blocked the Border crossing and made it clear America wasn’t going to tolerate any nonsense.
The fact that he had barely managed to crew the four troop carriers with local reservists, never mind fill them with soldiers, was known only unto himself and the eight men that had in fact crewed the four troop carriers which, fully manned, would have housed a further forty four guardsmen. Instead, they had a driver and a gunner each and even then two drivers weren’t even legal, having both been caught DUI, in the last couple of months.
The Governor had shot down Masters protestations and assured him he needed do nothing other than show force. The Colonel just needed to reassure his fellow Texans they were safe. It was, after all, the Governor explained, why they had based the four armored personnel carriers in Laredo in the first place — to project power. Masters had argued that was fine but without anybody to operate them, they were effectively powerless. The Governor had promised the Guards were on their way from Fort Worth and would be with him in a few hours — Masters knew this was code for some time the next day. In the meantime it was going to be up to him and his eight men to pretend to be a platoon strength detachment of the National Guard.
Of course, it wasn’t as though they were on their own. Between the police and border agents, there were over 500 armed officers guarding the four main crossing points across the Rio Grande that separated the two cities’ nationalities.
Covering over 160 square miles, the twin cities contained over three quarters of a million citizens, the Rio Grande dissecting them more effectively than any man made border ever could. Two thirds Mexican, one third American and almost entirely Hispanic but worlds apart. One side of the river prospered as part of the world’s largest economy while the other cowered as one of the most violent drug wars engulfed its citizens. Its death rate of ten fold that of its smaller twin was steadily rising, as was the level of corruption and escalation of the war between the Zeta and the Gulf Cartel. Headless corpses, assassinated police chiefs and mass murders were becoming daily events. However, the violence that had erupted that night had dwarfed all that had gone before and caused the already concerned authorities in the American city to call on their Governor for help.
Colonel Masters raised his night vision binoculars and looked beyond the Mexican immigration post and into the heart of downtown Nuevo Laredo. The slight elevation at the center point of the bridge allowed him to see over the nearest line of buildings and into the streets beyond. All was quiet. The streets were deserted. It seemed the sudden explosion of violence had quelled. The occasional single gunshot could be heard in the distance but the earlier, rat-a-tat-tat of heavy machine gun fire had stopped. He threw a thumbs-up to his rag tag team of reservists. It seem that their intervention was surplus to requirements. Of course, they’d sit out the rest of the night. The local press corps were filming the event to ensure his fellow Texans knew that when violence arose and their homes were endangered, the National Guard would be there to protect them.
“Governor Brown, how long do you think the border will be closed for?”
Governor Brown turned to the latest questioner. It was almost 1 a.m. and he was seriously questioning the point in continuing any longer with the press conference. The number of viewers would be in the hundreds. He tapped the side of his lectern three times with his index finger. This would be his last question, the signal having been given to his press officer to cut in after this answer.
“Well, Scott,” he said, smiling at the Houston Chronicles reporter. He was blessed with an ability to remember the face and name of pretty much everyone he ever met. A truly exceptional gift for any politician. “It will be closed as long as it has to be!”
The press officer jumped in before any further questions were asked.
“That’s it for now folks, we will notify you of any updates.”
Governor Brown smiled, waved and walked towards the double doors that swung open as he approached them in true presidential style.
A final look back and wave was almost complete when the first scream shattered the questions that were still being hurled at the departing Governor. Silence fell instantly as everybody looked for the source of the scream. As each person found the source, gasps and screams added to the already confused scene. The Governor was left standing in a doorway with absolutely no idea what had happened or where to go. He looked at his press officer who had also joined the group of gaspers and screamers, staring at a monitor.
Everything told him to keep walking. He had made his exit. He could go to his office and find out what was happening soon enough. Visions of footage of him making his grand exit only to turn and see what had happened in the room ran through his mind. The headline 'should he stay or should he go?’ screamed at him. Then of course there was indecision, standing in the doorway, neither leaving nor going was just as bad, if not worse and of course, the same headline would be just as effective.
Fortunately for the Governor, these thoughts had rattled through his mind almost instantly and to the outside world, hardly a heartbeat has passed before the Governor turned and rushed back into the room. A path cleared its way to the monitor to allow the Governor a view of the unfolding events.
As Colonel Masters walked back towards his four armored personnel carriers, the rat-a-tat-tat began again in earnest. Only this time, the sound of gunfire was far closer. As he turned to pinpoint the source, a bullet pinged the ground twenty feet from him and he understood exactly how close the gunfire was.
“Sir, to your left in the bushes!” screamed one of his guardsmen from on top of the nearest Bradley. He was preparing to return fire with the Bradley’s M2 Machine Gun.
Masters followed the guardsman’s arm and noted the flashes over a third of a mile away, ell out of range and obviously just somebody having some fun at the expense of the Army.
“Stand down men! Even if the bullets hit from that range, they’d be like a bee sting,” he waved his arm down as he turned and walked back nonchalantly towards the Bradleys as another bullet pinged just a few feet to his left.
As the Pro 8 News crew disembarked from their news van, the gunfire erupted. Abandoning all set up, the reporter grabbed the cameraman and ran towards the bridge, just in time to see Colonel Masters waving at his men to remain calm and not return fire. The bullet pinging to the left of the Colonel and him looking at it without flinching was footage you could only dream of. A true American hero, standing tall even under fire.
The camera zoomed in on the action, first managing to catch the flashes from across the river of the gunmen, before tracking back to the courageous Colonel standing proudly on top of the Bradley personnel Carrier, defending America’s border.
As he issued orders to his men, the Colonel caught sight of the camera and winked. The frame of the smile and wink of Colonel Nathan Masters would go down in history as one of the all time classic shots. Very few shots ever caught the emotion of a person an instant before their life ended.
By the time the Governor reached the monitor, the Colonel’s lifeless body had already slumped to the ground.
