Reign of Terror

future if she had to raise the girls alone. He had mentioned the military life insurance if something happened, but it had only angered her. Instinctively, he checked his mobile phone for signal strength. It was weak but enough to make a call, if necessary. He hoped the electrical power in the room would work with his charger.

  He had not slept well for days and managed to doze on the bed until late afternoon. His watch said 4:45 PM when he decided to go downstairs, anxious to meet his escorts. His expectations were not great that they would be coming any time soon. They weren’t. At about 5:30, a dirty car similar to the one earlier in the day pulled up to the curb. The driver didn’t leave the car, so Stokes went to the back, assuming it was for him. After seating himself on the cracked vinyl, the car lurched forward into traffic as his door was closing. There were no seatbelts.

  The ride to the “Estación de Policia” took about twenty minutes. The driver said nothing but glanced in his rearview mirror often, either curious about his passenger or suspicious. Stokes was dressed as he was earlier and felt conspicuous when he stepped out of the vehicle in front of the station. Several Mexicans in tan police uniforms were lounging on old wooden chairs on the sidewalk. They all looked at him but made no effort to address him. He walked inside hoping to see someone familiar. As he looked around, a man in a wrinkled dark suit stood up and came to him extending his hand. “Good day, Señor. Buenos noches.”

  John extended his hand and was pleased that someone had finally shown some courtesy, if not enthusiasm. The man was shorter than John, less than six feet, and appeared to be in sound physical condition. Most of the other policia would have been considered portly by U.S. standards. He also spoke fluent English.

  “My name is Juan Padilla. I am a Major in the Policia Federale. I have been instructed by our Government to work with you, as you may wish.”

  “Thank you, Major, I appreciate your help. I’m here to assist in locating some Americans that are missing from our border police and military, who were involved in a shootout with Mexicans.”

  “Yes, I was instructed in this. How do you propose to help?”

  Stokes didn’t have a good answer. It had seemed so obvious when he and Gorman discussed it, but now here in this strange environment, it wasn’t as clear. “I’m not sure. Maybe my connection back to the U.S. military can be helpful.”

  “As I was instructed, you are here as a courtesy. I do not want to be rude, but you may just be in the way.”

  “Well, I hope that’s not the case. If you’ll allow me to work with the officers, searching for our men, I’m sure that I can be of help.”

  “Of course, we are doing everything possible to locate the American border police.” Stokes doubted that.

  “Look, Major Padilla, I have no doubt that you are doing everything possible, but I would like to add my assistance as one additional person on it.”

  “Capitan Stokes, is that correct?”

  “Yes, my rank is Captain.”

  “Correct, then you will understand that our Government has its own procedures, and they are different from yours.”

  “Major, I understand and respect that. I don’t plan to be a nuisance in any way, but my Government is expecting me to report progress in the effort to find our men.” He was stretching the truth to add some measure of personal safety.

  “All right then. Would you like to sit? Use any unoccupied desk.” Padilla gestured to one of the antique wood desks with nothing on top.

  “Actually, Major, I’d like to meet with your people making the search.”

  “Yes, well that will take some time as they are ‘out in the field,’ so to speak.”

  John didn’t like the run around. If no one was trying to find them, his presence was even more important, “Can I join them?”

  “Impossible. They are ‘under cover,’ as you would say. It is very dangerous work. I will have you meet with them as quickly as possible.” He gestured to an old wooden desk with no phone. “Please be comfortable.”

  Stokes reluctantly sat down as Padilla walked away down a corridor to avoid further dialogue. Stokes would just sit there, observing Mexican law enforcement at work around him. The lack of activity and anyone to speak with showed signs of turning into a complete waste of his time.

  DEA Meeting

  Leo Moritz was in the El Paso DEA field office near the Airport. Agency operations and personnel were secretive and couldn’t be co-located with any other enforcement groups. The office was actually a large motorhome, specially constructed with communications, office equipment and meeting space. There were no windows except in the Driver’s compartment and no exterior markings. Even the license plate was a general Texas “RV” registration. There were no U.S. Government markings. Power was supplied by a large unmarked FEMA generator with a propane tank filled each week by a contractor.

  Moritz was meeting with two DEA agents when there was a knock on the forward door. He excused himself and walked forward to look through the small security window. Pressing a button, he told the person to wait for a moment then instructed the Agents to depart from the rear door before he let someone enter.

  Opening the door, he greeted Jamie Montes with a warm handshake. The men had first met when Leo was a field agent, and Jamie was a courier in Central America. “Jamie, this is a surprise. I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “I’m sorry, Leo. I wanted to keep this between us. The new people in the Company are screwing with me, and I have some important intel for you.”

  “Sure, come in, and let’s talk.” Leo gestured rearward as he opened a door.

  Jamie was accustomed to looking around when entering any enclosed area. “Are you alone? Can you talk?”

  “Jamie, it’s nice to see you in the flesh. It’s been too long my friend. Come in – we are quite alone.”

  The two men talked for less than half an hour. Leo had received numerous tips from Jamie about drug shipments over the years that had always proven accurate. Usually, they only talked briefly on the phone. Leo didn’t know where Jamie got the information but was grateful nevertheless. He owed his promotion to Supervisor to Jamie.

  When they were through, Jamie asked to leave as the Agents had left. Leo was still stunned by the information and simply motioned him through and shook his hand. It occurred to him immediately that Jamie had just set the stage for his next promotion, and he had not, could not, thank him adequately. But now, he had to start planning.

  Stokes Alone

  John got more frustrated as the sun set, and everyone ignored him at the station. Padilla had disappeared hours earlier and might have left the building. It was hot, and the open doors and windows only added fumes from the cars passing outside. The top of the desk was sticky and gritty, and he had nothing to occupy his time. The Federales were ignoring him and he considered walking out and taking a taxi to the hotel. He was hungry and thirsty and could only think about Carolyn and the girls.

  In Washington, Peter’s call to Carolyn couldn’t have gone worse. She had just talked to John before he crossed the border. She had pleaded with him not to go, and he basically told her that he had no choice, which both knew was untrue. Carolyn wasn’t only upset that John chose to go despite her pleading; she wasn’t supporting him. He would need all his composure focused on survival, and she had only added to his worries. When Peter called, she could hardly speak. To his amazement, she wasn’t upset with him, but he could do nothing to lessen her concerns. She was a tough woman who had suffered through John’s prior escapades. Peter feared John was overdue for failure but couldn’t say that to Carolyn. All he could offer was to be available any time she wanted to talk.

  His relationship with Rachael was trickier, but she had asked him to check the background on Montes, and he needed to talk to her. When she answered her cellphone, he said, “Ah, hi. I talked to Carolyn.”

  She was calm, responding, “How is she?”

  “Oh, sh
e’s upset. I don’t think I helped much. There isn’t much I can say.”

  “Maybe it’s enough just to talk.”

  “Yeah, well. I really wish I could do more.”

  “There isn’t anything you can do, Peter.”

  She was obviously more composed than the last time they had talked.

  Shifting subjects, Peter said, “I have some information about an old Army buddy I’d like to share with you.”

  “Oh, good. I’d like to hear.”

  “Want to talk now or when?”

  She was guarded in responding, “Ah, not now. I’m pretty busy. How about after work?”

  He was excited just thinking about seeing her, “Sure.”

  “Okay, around six.”

  He knew the location.

  On impulse he asked, “How about dinner at my place?”

  After a pause she answered. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Rachael, please let me try. I --- I don’t know what to say or do anymore. Can’t we just talk at my place? I’ll stay on subject, and you can leave early.”

  “All right.”

  His heart skipped, “Around six then?”

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  He didn’t know if he should be excited or deflated, but left the office early to prepare for her.

  She knocked on the door at six-twenty. When he opened it, she entered and laid her purse on a chair without looking at him or making any physical contact. “I’m sorry for being late. DC traffic in this