Unwary correspondents who wandered through the crowds did not know that the peasant families they interviewed had been carefully planted and rehearsed. In most cases the simple, impoverished-looking people were trained actors who spoke fluent English, but answered quesfions in a stumbling, broken accent. Their tearful appeals to five permanently in California, Arizona, New Mexico and Texas drew a wave of sob-sister support across the nation when the segments ran on the evening news and the morning talk shows.
The only ones who stood grim and unimpressed were the dedicated men of the U.S. Border Patrol. Until now, the threat of a massive incursion had only been a nightmare. Now, they were about to witness the realization of their worst fears.
Border patrolmen rarely had call to draw their firearms. They treated illegal immigrants humanely and with respect before shipping them back home. They took a dim view of the Army covering the U.S. side of the river like nests of camouflaged ants. They saw only disaster and slaughter in a long line of automatic weapons and the twenty tanks whose deadly guns were trained on Mexico.
The soldiers were young and efficient as fighting units. But they were trained for combat with an enemy who fought back. They were uneasy about facing a wave of unarmed civilians.
The commanding officer, Brigadier General Curfis Chandler, had barricaded the bridge with tanks and armored cars, but Topiltzin had planned for that contingency. The riverbank was packed with every kind of small boat, wooden raft and truck inner tube gleaned within two hundred miles. Footbridges made of rope were stretched out and knotted to be carried across by the first wave and positioned.
General Chandler's intelligence officer estimated an initial rush of twenty thousand before the flotilla returned, loaded and ferried the next wave. He couldn't begin to guess the number of swimmers. One of his female agents had penetrated the dining trailer used by Topiltzin aides and reported the storm would be launched in the late evening after the Aztec messiah had whipped his devotees into near-frenzy. But she couldn't learn which evening.
Chandler had served three tours in Vietnam; he knew first-hand what it was like to kill fanatical young women and boys who struck without seaming out of the jungle. He gave orders to fire over the heads of the mob when they began their move across the water.
If the warning barrage did not stop them-Chandler was a soldier who performed his duty without question. If ordered, he would use the forces under his command to repel the peaceful invasion rrgardless of the cost in blood.
Pitt stood on the second-story sun deck of Sam Trinity's store and peered through a telescope used by the Texan to gaze at the stars. The sun had dropped over the western range of hills and daylight was fading, but the staged spectacle on the other side of the Rio Grande was about to begin. Batteries of multicolored floodlights burst out, some sweeping patterns in the sky while odiers beaxned on a tall tower that had been erected in the center of the town.
He focused on and magnified a tiny figure wearing a white ankle-length robe and colorful headdress who stood on a narrow platform atop the tower. Pitt judged it-from the upraised and brisk movement of the arms that the center of attraction was engaged in a fervent speech.
'I wonder who the character is in the jazzy costume stirring up the natives?'
Sandecker sat with Lily, examining the underground profile recordings from the survey. He looked up at Pitts question. 'Probably that phony Topiltzin,' he grunted.
'He can sway a crowd with the best of the Evangelists.'
'any sign they'll attempt the crossing tonight?' asked Lily.
Pin leaned back from the telescope and shook his head. 'They're hard at work on their fleet, but I doubt if it will come for another forty-eight hours. Topiltzin won't launch his big push until he's certain he commands the lead news story of the day. '
'Topiltzin -s an alias,' Sandecker informed him. 'His real name is Robert Capesterre.'
'He's got himself a thriving racket.'
Sandecker held up one thumb and forefinger an inch apart. 'Capesterre is that far away from taking over Mexico.'
'If that convention on the other side of the river is any indication, he's after the entire American Southwest too.'
Lily stood up and stretched. 'This sitting around is driving me crazy.
We do all the work, and the army engineers get all the glory. Preventing us from watching over the excavation and keeping us off Sam's property-I think it's rude of them.'
Pitt and Sandecker both smiled at Lily's feminine choice of words. 'I could put it a little stronger than rude, ' said the Admiral.
Lily chewed nervously on the tip of a pen. 'Why no word from the Senator? We should have heard something by now.'
'I can't say,' replied Sandecker. 'All he told me after I explained Dirk's setup, was that he'd somehow work a deal.'
'Wish we knew how it was going,' Lily murmured. Trinity appeared on the stairs below wearing an apron. 'Anybody care for a bowl of my famous Trinity chili?'
Lily gave him an uneasy look. 'How hot is it?'
'Little lady, I can make it as mild on your stomach as a marshmallow or as fiery as battery acid. any way you like it.'
'I'll go with the marshmallow,' Lily decided without hesitation.
Before Pitt and Sandecker could put in their order, Trinity turned and stared through the dusk at a stream of headlights approaching up the road. 'Must be another army convoy,' he announced. 'Been no cars or trucks come this way since that General closed off the roads and rerouted all the traffic to the north
Soon they counted five trucks led by a hunner, the vehicle that replaced the durable jeep. The truck bringing up the rear pulled a trailer with a canvas-covered piece of equipment. The convoy did not Turn off the road toward the engineers' encampment on Gongora Hill or continue into Roma as expected. The trucks followed the hummer into the driveway of Sam's Roman Circus and stopped between the gas pumps and the store. The passengers climbed from the hummer and looked around.
