Reign of Terror
she had seen in Government. She was on time and introduced to six other DDOs and assorted support staff. The room was void of any visible surveillance or recording devices.
Rachael was much younger than the other people, who were all males. The meeting began with Vitale, outlining the general format he intended to follow in subsequent meetings, which included a briefing by each DDO (Deputy Director of Operations) regarding their major regional projects, particularly any problems encountered each week. Twice a year, there would be comprehensive presentations of the regional challenges and opportunities, along with updated budgets. The annual budgeting process for the Agency would be done separately.
Vitale then went around the room asking if anyone had any burning issues to present, which all declined. Rachael was new and had little knowledge of her region, but got the impression that the other Deputies were not interested in being talkative.
The meeting adjourned after a short time and she returned to her office and was surprised to find Jamie Montes sitting with a classified folder in his hand. He rose and greeted her with a smile and handshake, as she walked past him to her chair saying, “Well, hi, I wasn’t sure when you were coming back.” She suspected that Cybil had been advising him.
He grinned. “Well, yes. I got into a little mess in Mexico and had to spend a few days getting people re-educated, if you know what I mean.”
“No, but I’m hopeful that you’ll tell me a bit about what you’re working on down there.”
He sat upright stating, “It’s all pretty complicated, and I don’t want you getting too overwhelmed too quickly. We should probably set some time up where I can give a full briefing.”
“How many projects do you have going?” She knew he had only one on record, with no description in the file.
He answered, “Oh, a few. Most are pretty small, then one bigger one.”
“So tell me about Sandcastle.”
He placed both forearms on his chair arms and rocked slightly to one side, then back again. He was looking alternately at the ceiling and floor then side to side, obviously not wanting to discuss it. “Oh, it’s a clandestine operation approved directly by the Director without much documentation.”
“You mean there’s no Project Description and Budget Justification forms? All activities in the Agency have them.”
“No. I’m not saying that. It’s just that the Director didn’t want everyone knowing about it.”
It was true that certain projects had little visibly for political or security reasons.
Rachael looked at him and spoke in slow cadence, “Jamie, I am running this department and will understand everything that is going on. If you want to go down to the new Director’s office with me for clarification, let’s go right now.”
He answered, “Aw, well. It’s not that easy to get on the Director’s calendar with short notice, and I need to get back to Mexico soon.”
“Let me be clear on this. There will be no travel in this department without my prior approval. That will be issued today in writing to everyone.”
He retorted, “Well, it’s obviously a good thing, but I was given instruction by the Director that I could travel wherever and whenever my project needed.”
“You’re not listening. Your so-called deals with the Director don’t exist anymore. I’m pretty sure Director Vitale will agree. Now, do you want to tell me about Sandcastle, or do we need to go to the first floor?”
He looked at her dubiously, but reluctantly opened the file sitting in his lap.
Jamie Montes was the son of Mexican aliens allowed into California under the “Bracero” program in 1956. The program was a series of Government acts that brought Mexican laborers into the United States for temporary periods, beginning in World War II when manual labor was scarce. The acts were reauthorized each year with varying quotas until 1967.
Montes was born in Oxnard, California, and was technically a U.S. citizen by birth, although he maintained dual citizenship as a Mexican National under laws in effect at the time. In 1973, he had been living with his parents in Baja California, but crossed the border into the United States legally and joined the Marine Corps during the waning Vietnam era. He was seventeen, which required his parent’s approval, but both were dead, and he was granted an exception based on personal guardianship rules.
When his enlistment was over in 1977, Montes transferred to the Army with the rank of Corporal, E4, where he spent the next twenty-two years, retiring as an E-8, First Sergeant. He never married and always lived on Army posts. His military occupation was in the Quartermasters, heavily involved in logistics support, often in foreign locations.
His military service was undistinguished, but he was never in trouble either. He earned an “Honorable Discharge” and was still a relatively young man who wanted a second career. He only looked for federal jobs and was hired by the Central Intelligence Agency as a logistics coordinator. He was recruited because of his Army experience and was bilingual. This took him into Central and South America supplying materials and equipment for covert projects, often requiring indigenous suppliers. He learned to deal with native bureaucracy, which often meant overcoming corrupt officials. Through his effectiveness, he gained the recognition of the case managers and was promoted into project management.
With the War on Terror announced by President Bush September 20, 2001, closing the land corridors through the southern borders took on heightened urgency. Through a series of opportunistic moves, aided by Montes’ native heritage, he was elevated to manage all intelligence programs in Mexico.
He remained an enigmatic figure in the Agency since he wasn’t Ivy League, and didn’t even have a college degree, as required. Whether real or imagined, he felt demeaned by his coworkers, creating an elusive persona. Nevertheless, he was promoted through merit. His secretive veil had worked well in the Agency.
Ransom Demand
Stokes called an early morning meeting with the Guard troops assigned to the Ysleta station. There was one First Lieutenant, Rick Gorman, a Sergeant First Class, Mike Dias, and other soldiers of lower ranks. All were from Texas or New Mexico, and about half were native Spanish speaking.
They sat comfortably in the squad briefing room, overlooking the parking lot and airfield beyond. Stokes began by telling them his background and their mission assigned by LTC Colson. Basically, they were to provide surveillance and logistical support to the U.S. Border Patrol. He then asked about the MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) and background of each soldier. Sergeant Diaz had prepared an impressive list of equipment and supplies furnished by their home units. There was ample material support.
Stokes would be issuing deployment schedules that would be coordinated with the Border Patrol. He was aware that the DEA would be providing intelligence, regarding drug movements but would not be engaged in the seizure missions. Stokes would also be going into the field.
The Guard members began deploying with the Border Patrol that same day. Bulky marihuana shipments usually happened during the daylight hours by truck carriers through the highway checkpoints, when commercial traffic was heaviest. Seizures usually resulted from advanced DEA information and were not expected to be particularly dangerous operations.
The largest volume of high-value drug smuggling, however, came from human pack trains of 10 to 15 people carrying around fifty pounds of cocaine or heroin on their backs at night. They were usually accompanied by four or five men with automatic weapons, and two or three scouts, using night vision goggles. These pack trains were the most dangerous to the U.S. Agents.
The Border Agents knew the terrain and most common routes taken by the smugglers. In the field, they had tactical command and arrest authority. Most of the alien groups intercepted were migrant workers, but criminals now accounted for about 25% of the encounters. There were people caught every night, crossing the Ysleta sector, and the ratio of violent actions was increasing each month as counter-drug efforts on both sides of the border in other re
gions pushed the traffic toward Juarez. Another alarming trend was the increasing numbers of Islamic men who came up through South America. This mix increased the time needed by Agents to interrogate each person, effectively reducing manpower available for other captures.
The Guard soldiers provided armed “boots-on-the-ground” at each intercept with heavy firepower, trucks, aircraft, and night surveillance equipment. Over ninety percent of all border crossings, hostile or not, occurred at night.
Stokes and Lt. Gorman issued schedules and began nightly deployments with their troops. One serious problem was that military radios didn’t work with the Border Patrol’s. During the first night under Stokes’ command, all of the soldiers were involved in intercepts that were not violent. The following day, he attended the sector briefing with Gorman at the Station building.
Senior Agent Berkowitz provided intelligence information from various sources, including unmanned aircraft video. Assignments were made and people began to disperse when Matt B asked the Senior Agents and Guard officers to stay behind with him and Leo Moritz. When the door was closed, he took on a stressed look saying, “This morning we received a ransom note for Billy Ware. It was written by some illiterate piece of shit who said they wanted a million bucks to return Billy or he would