Edge of Battle

“I want it made perfectly clear that the Ministry of National Defense bears no responsibility for this incident,” Rojas said hotly. “On his urgent request, and against my better judgment, I made the decision to turn over tactical control of the engagement to Minister Diaz, and he accepted.”

“Minister?”

“It is true, Madam President,” Diaz said, “and I accept full responsibility for what has occurred. The downing of that Marine Corps helicopter was an unfortunate error, an accident. In retrospect, the Ministry of Internal Affairs’ helicopters from Mexicali probably would have been sufficient for the job, but it was unsure if they could have arrived on time to catch the gangsters before they escaped, or withstand their attack if they did. I made a decision, and I stand by it.”

“You were afraid that helicopters just a few miles away wouldn’t have arrived in time,” Rojas pointed out in confusion, “so you requested help from fighter jets based almost five hundred miles away? That doesn’t make sense!”

“Thank you for taking advantage of twenty-twenty hindsight and criticizing a last-second decision I made to safeguard lives and property, General,” Diaz shot back. “My staff discussed all options for dealing with these criminals and decided to call on the jets from Mexico City. I never thought we would actually use them. But when the helicopters failed to respond in time, we had no choice but to use the first assets available. If I had tanks and armored vehicles, I would have used them too.”

Maravilloso studied Diaz’s face for a moment, nodded, then glanced at Sotelo and then at Alberto Rojas. “Are you satisfied, General Rojas?” He nodded, glaring at Diaz, who ignored him. “Very well then. I assure you that the Ministry of National Defense will be absolved of any responsibility in this matter. Please stay for a moment, General Rojas. I would like your advice.”

“Gladly, Madam President.”

Maravilloso stood behind her desk and affixed an angry gaze at Diaz. “This had better be good, Felix,” she said seriously, “because you have just made up for everything the Americans have done to us over the past several days, and much more. It looks like a retaliation, plain and simple, and now the Ministry of Internal Affairs has taken full responsibility for it. What is the real reason for the overflight? What in hell is going on?”

“Are you sure you want to know, Carmen?” Diaz asked.

“What do you mean, Felix?” she demanded. That was the first time, Maravilloso thought, that anything Felix Diaz said ever scared her. She had always assumed that this handsome, wealthy, and very powerful man had his own personal, business, and political agendas, but he had never before given any indication of what they were, or that they might be contrary to hers. For the first time, she felt a shiver of vulnerability in her own office. Even Rojas’s face fell in surprise at Diaz’s simple question. “What is going on here?” Diaz hesitated again. “Tell me, Felix. ?Ahora!”

Diaz glanced once at Rojas, silently asking Maravilloso if she was sure she wanted the Minister of Defense to hear what he was about to say; when she remained silent, he said, “We found out that Task Force TALON had found Ernesto Fuerza—‘Comandante Veracruz.’”

“?Mi Dios!” Maravilloso gasped. “Fuerza was in the United States?”

“He was organizing workers up in the Imperial Valley of California—building a resistance force, raising money, recruiting supporters, even gathering weapons,” Diaz said. “TALON was going to capture him at any moment, and I seriously doubt if the Americans would have notified us of the capture for a long time. I made a decision to snatch him before TALON could close in on him, and I dispatched the Sombras…”

“The Sombras…inside the United States…?” Rojas gasped.

“The Sombras have operated many times inside the United States on officially sanctioned clandestine missions, Alberto—you know it as well as I,” Diaz said. To Maravilloso, he continued: “When I found out that TALON was involved, and they had called in U.S. Marines from El Centro Naval Air Facility to assist, I called in the jets.”

“You requested our fighter jets to attack U.S. military aircraft to rescue a drug smuggler? Why?”

“I was hoping the jets would create enough confusion and allow helicopters to come in and snatch Fuerza,” Diaz said. “Fuerza himself destroyed two helicopters, but that only succeeded in bringing more and better-armed helicopters—they weren’t going to be chased away. I ordered the pilots to attack.”

“This is incredible!” Maravilloso retorted. “This is a disaster!” She sank into her chair behind her desk as if all of her muscles had gone weak at once. “My God, Felix, what have you done?” she muttered, shaking her head. “At the very least, that’s an international incident of the most serious order—at worst, it is an act of war. And Conrad says that Yegor Zakharov was somehow involved, and that Zakharov has one of Task Force TALON’s robots and its commander captive.”

“I know nothing of any of this,” Diaz snapped. “It sounds to me as if Conrad is threatening to enflame American and world public opinion against us by yet again mentioning Zakharov’s involvement. This is nothing but a fairy tale. I have Fuerza—that’s all.”

Maravilloso remained silent…but only for a moment before finally asking, “So, is he…?”

“Vivo,” Diaz said proudly. “He is in a safe house in Hermosillo getting medical treatment, and then I will bring him here to meet with you.”

“Is he…is he badly hurt?”

“It appears TALON and the Border Patrol tried to torture him to reveal information,” Diaz said. “He is injured, but he will make a full recovery.”

Carmen Maravilloso momentarily forgot about the border incursion and attack, thinking only of meeting Fuerza. “It was even better that TALON and the Border Patrol were involved, since they are the spearhead of this new anti-immigrant pogrom.” She looked at Diaz seriously. “But there is the question of explaining the initial story about the incident, especially to the Council of Government…”

“Just tell the council exactly what I have already told you, Carmen,” Diaz said. “We can show plenty of pictures of dangerous drug dealers and explain how we are doing everything in our power to stop them, even if it means crossing the border. Let me get together with the Ministry of Information and present you with a plan on how we should deal with the press.”

Rojas looked at Diaz suspiciously, but nodded. “You may have to submit to questioning by the Supreme Court, perhaps even resign your post,” Rojas said.

“I will not resign my post, General Rojas,” Diaz said. “I was acting in my capacity as Minister of Internal Affairs and as chief border security and anti-drug officer of the Mexican government. The president expressed her desire to meet with Fuerza, which would have been impossible if he was captured or killed. Need I remind you that the man is wanted in Mexico for drug dealing and gun smuggling as well?”

“The American government will want to question you,” Rojas said, “and they will not like it if we refuse.”

“I’ve got plenty of bodies of dead drug smugglers to show the Americans—and if I don’t have enough, I’ll get some more,” Diaz said. “I can handle the Americans. They like Mexicans who are tough on crime and drugs. If necessary, I will apologize profusely and offer my resignation.” He looked at Maravilloso and added, “It will be refused, of course.”

“Of course it will, Felix,” Maravilloso said. “But what about Fuerza? What should we do with him? After what has just happened, can he help us convince the American Congress to address the immigration problem without causing a deluge of refugees back to Mexico?”

“He is a complete unknown, Carmen,” Rojas said. “We know of him only by rumor and legend, and most of the legend is not favorable. A drug smuggler turned so-called nationalist and self-proclaimed ‘patriotic freedom- fighter’ is still a drug smuggler. He is damaged goods, Carmen. If he is wanted in Mexico for any crimes, he should stand trial for them. Otherwise, he should be sent to a remote part of the country and placed under close scrutiny, perhaps even house arrest, to be sure he doesn’t make any more of those ridiculous videotapes and stir up the people…”

“The people listen to him, Alberto,” Maravilloso said. “They like him. He is dashing, energetic, inspirational—”

“You are too obsessed with the media image, Carmen—that may not be the real man at all,” Rojas said. “You are a much more influential person than he. Do not be sucked in by his cult of personality. Send him to a prison in