Border Alert- Terrorist Penetration

by Glenn Ball

  Susanna looked up for a moment, noticing the house had grown deathly quiet. The rain had momentarily let up. Something pinged on the roof. It was followed by the sound of something rolling down to the gutter.

  “Must be an acorn,” Susanna said to herself.

  The next page had a picture of Susanna Perle's sister and brother playing with their dog Trix in the back yard. They were playing keep away with his ball. There was laughter on their faces. It was less than a year later that Trix had died.

  Susanna turned the page. She and her brother were trimming the Christmas tree in one picture. In another, the three kids were building a snowman. Perle always loved snow. And there they were opening Christmas presents. Susanna's eyes came to a halt. She had come to a picture of her mother leaning on the hood of their car. “That red Honda!” she exclaimed, setting the album down hard.

  Quickly she picked up a different one to distract her troubled mind. This album had photos of her time in Mexico. She had flown to Guadalajara as part of an event for artistic interchange. She had become a proficient figure-skater and was invited as part of a group performing a ballet on ice that told the story of several Native American tribes in dance. It paid next to nothing, but she got a free trip out of it, and as a bonus she met Adam, or as he was known there “Adán”.

  She still had the photos he had taken of her while he watched her in their ballet on ice. He had been very impressed with her performance and had to meet her. They saw each other several times over those next few days. He knew she loved to dance and wanted to make a good impression, so he took her out dancing, but ended up stepping on her feet. She laughed at the photo of his clumsy cowboy boots.

  When the rest of the troop returned to the States she stayed in Mexico, much to the chagrin of her father. He kept telling her how dangerous Mexico was, and how people were kidnapped there. But having fallen helplessly in love, she moved in with Adam. Her father was sure she was making a mistake. She was sure it was what she wanted.

  There were several photos of the little wooden shack where they spent their first months together. It had a floor of clay, and the wind blew right through the cracks in the wall. They were happy times together, but rustic. The life that Adam lived as a farmer, was not the life she envisioned for herself for the long haul. She adjusted for a time but realized that if they were to spend the rest of their lives together, she would want something much better. A safe and comfortable country home is what she wanted.

  There was a white flash and the walls reverberated at the thunder that followed.

  Yes, those days in the shack had been happy times, and they had been together. The shack did not shield them so well from the wind and the rain, but this house felt so empty with him gone.

  It had been her idea that he come to live with her in the States, so he could get a better job, and they could have a nicer home in which to raise a family. She had waited till he proposed to her to suggest it. How ironic life can be. He got the better job, and she got the nicer home; but now she had no husband and no family.

  Thinking back to how her father had been aloof to him she felt she finally understood. It was not that her father did not like Adam, it was simply the idea of losing his daughter: letting go of love is never easy. Yes, she could understand it now, the struggle of letting go. She had been Adam’s precious Perle, his star, held high for the world to see and admire. But now the light of that star had gone out.

  She picked up her wedding album. There it held in its pages a wedding white as heaven. The chapel was bright with thousands of candles, casting a charming glow over the scene of white columns trimmed with white roses, and softening the faces of the bridesmaids that stood in gowns of satin and lace. And there in the center stood Adam with shining eyes and his hand stretched out to her. She approached him wearing a snow-white bridal gown that filled the chapel with its train.

  An eternal decision was sealed with a kiss, and the multitude rejoiced. The union was indisputable. Even her father opened wide his arms to Adam, hugging him as his own son.

  Moved with sadness Perle laid the wedding album down again, and her eye caught a glimpse of the red Honda again. She began to sob, her shoulders heaving; she could no longer hold in the grief. When her mother had the accident, Susanna was barely eleven. The depression of losing her mother, brother and sister all in one day still affected her.

  Oh, if Adam could only understand the pain she felt, each time he walked out that door.

  CHAPTER 5

  CIA Strategy

  Adam took another sip of his coffee while trying to remain focused. The video gripped him. He was looking at the general but his mind flashed images of Susanna Perle screaming as chemicals fell on her from the sky. He couldn’t let that happen. Her last words, “Don’t bother coming back!” tore at his heart. If she only knew.

  The man to Valencia’s left cleared his throat. Hague nodded to him. “Sir, you said ‘if our intel is correct’. How reliable is the intel and what is the source?”

  “Those are good questions. The CIA has provided us with what they have gathered from their informants. But some of the information we need requires special ops training that far exceeds that of their informants. The fact is you three men are the only ones we found qualified to handle the task we have at hand.

  “With that I want to introduce you to Hans Vincent, the deputy director for the CIA.” Hans nodded his head in salute. “He will be explaining your mission in detail. But before he does, there is one more item I have to address.

  “All three of you are accustomed to laying your lives on the line for your country. Each of you has seen your share of tours and missions. But I would be a horse’s ass if I didn’t warn you that this one is different. You will face hazards you’ve never faced before, and you will face them alone. You will have no support, neither air nor ground troops. There will be nobody to watch your six. There will be no emergency evacs. Communication will be limited to your scheduled entry and exit. Between those scheduled transmissions you will be behind enemy lines.

  “Are you good with that?” The general looked hard into their eyes as he awaited their reply.

  “Yes sir!” They all sounded off in crisp response.

  “Okay, then. Deputy Director, the floor is all yours.” The general sat down.

  The deputy director was a man with rugged yet refined features. His hands, though muscular had professionally manicured nails. He opened his briefcase and swiftly placed three stacks on the desk before him. Every movement he made seemed calculated, his words well-chosen.

  “Here’s the scoop gentlemen…We have reason to believe that our homeland is under one of the greatest terrorist threats that it has faced so far. It is my estimation that General Hague is grossly understating the danger we face.”

  He squinted his deep-set brown eyes and pursed his thin lips as he paused to let the impact of his statement sink in.

  “Our ultimate objective is to stop this attack on US soil. In order to achieve this, we need to fill in the gaps in our information: when is the attack to take place; who is doing the groundwork for the attack; what exactly is this chemical weapon they plan to use; can a vaccine be formulated for it; what other countermeasures can we take to stop their attack.

  “We also need to confirm that Dallas is the only target. There has been some chatter that leads us to believe there may be others.

  “I will not bore you with the details, but we have been hearing about this terrorist network for nearly a decade. It has been as elusive as the myth of Atlantis. Yet by following a money trail that seemed to go nowhere we deduced that its existence was real. Almost two months ago we located an elaborate camp in the Iraqi desert. The design of the camp has made it nearly undetectable to satellite imagery. But using the coordinates provided by a promising new informant we sent a drone to confirm its existence.

  “We have since tested and confirmed numerous other accounts given by this informant and are convinced of both the accuracy of his infor
mation and his shared goal of seeing this terrorist network taken down. RAH has been responsible for the death of his entire family.

  “It was he that informed us two weeks ago of this new chemical weapon, and of the planned attack on US soil. Some pertinent information that we have gleaned from him:

  “RAH has found a new chink in our armor: it’s our border with Mexico. After so many years of unsuccessfully penetrating our ports they have finally come to realize the tremendous advantage of linking forces with a cartel which has proven itself extremely adept at outfoxing our border defenses. They have formed some sort of business alliance with a Mexican cartel to smuggle in chemical weapons.

  “RAH has arranged for a meet with this Mexican cartel at the bunker we have encountered. We need video of this meet. We need to discover what cartel this is, who their leader is, and we need to somehow infiltrate the meeting of these two leaders to find out exactly what their plans are.

  Stepping up to the screen he touched on a file. Several satellite photos revealed mounds in the desert almost imperceptible from the air. Reminiscent of the Egyptian pyramids they were sandy in color, yet unlike the pyramids they cast no shadows due to their rounded shapes.

  “As you can see the satellite photos don’t give anything away. Check out these drone shots.” Here a string of photos revealed the bunker complex from various angles. There were no windows nor any visible edges. They appeared to be nothing more than dunes in the sand, except for thick steel doors.

  “RAH is clever. Anticipating our satellite vigilance for their camp they built the doors to their bunkers where they could only be detected at an angle perceptible at a low elevation. By camouflaging their camp, they have kept it hidden for at least a decade. On the surface it appears simple and crude. But get beyond the surface and it is an enormously complex and sophisticated network.

  “This bunker compound that looks to be nothing but mere mounds of sand, houses an intricate system of underground tunnels. Using a laser-pointer he highlighted one of the doors. “There is only one door by which to enter each bunker, but the bunkers are all interconnected by these underground tunnels.”

  Clicking the mouse, he brought up a set of hand-drawn blueprints. “As you can see here the tunnels go down by levels in concentric circles with the smallest being the lowest. This is their most secure level and is the private quarters of RAH’s leader Abdul Al-Faheem. It is here that we expect Al-Faheem will meet with his Mexican cartel associate.” Using his laser-pointer he indicated the lowest level. “We need to get a videocam recording of that meeting at all costs. It would give us the identity of the Mexican cartel that we’re dealing with, as well as detailed information about their plot, such as when they plan to attack and possibly information about the chemical weapon they plan to use.

  “Our insider has managed to sketch these blueprints for us. He is unable however to place any kind of electronic surveillance in the bunker complex. They do frequent and sporadic sweeps for any hidden devices. He is also under constant surveillance. That leaves us with only one option: we need to insert an operative into the complex during the window between electronic sweeps. We need that operative to record the meet from this hidden location, and get out, all without being detected.

  “Fortunately, we have enough working information to make this happen. We have the date of the meet. We also have the location of the landing strip where the cartel leader is expected to arrive via his private jet to join a caravan of his men.”

  “General Hague, if you want to explain their assignments, I will pull up the satellite photo for you.” A satellite photo of a fifty square mile area with the bunker complex in the center appeared on the touchscreen.

  General Hague took a position in front of the touchscreen. “This is the landing strip. Sergeant John Becker, you will be assigned to watch that field from this ridge here. You are the best long-range reconnaissance man we have in the military. When the jet lands you will take photos of the leader and report his arrival to our helicopter.

  “Lieutenant Hawkeye, you are by far our best pilot. You will fly the helicopter. You will take Captain Valencia to a designated drop site here.

  “Captain, you will find a motor-cross motorcycle hidden here. You will take it to this cave here on the other side of these hills from the bunker complex. Leaving the motorcycle for your escape you will hike over the hill and take up watch for the caravan.

  “Once they are inside you will make your way to a hidden entryway we have found. This is a photo from the drone showing the vent as it appears on the surface. You can see that it is located near your angle of approach. I’ll give you a copy of this and other photos to study before you leave.

  “I’ll also give you a copy of this roughly sketched blueprint of the complex. You can see the air vent goes from the surface all the way down to the bottom level of Abdul’s private quarters where you are to record the meet with a spy camera.” He traced it with his red light. “Unfortunately, your journey downward through the vent system will be blocked by fans at this level. You will have to leave the system, making a detour through the hallways, all the way down to this level here.

  “Captain Valencia, you have been chosen for the most difficult part of the mission. Your photographic memory will enable you to track your way with these blueprints embedded in your brain. Additionally, your seemingly superhuman capacity to visualize your position in three-dimensional perspective with uncanny accuracy will prevent you from becoming lost. Due to the confusing layout of the compound we could not say that about any other man. That alone is reason enough for you to have been chosen for this mission.

  “Yet we have an even more important cause for your selection. It is likely that during this stretch of your journey you will be discovered.” With his red light the general indicated the hallways from the fans to the vents below. “Should that happen, we have hopes that your proven ability to blend with Iraqis will enable you to stay out of trouble.”

  Here the deputy director interjected, “I dare say you speak Arabic like a native Iraqi and understand their culture as well as any of our spies.”

  The general continued, “Of course, your blending with the Mexicans goes without saying.

  “We know you will keep in mind our objective to maintain your presence a secret. Even after your departure we want no trace of your having penetrated their defenses. The success of the mission depends on this. That said, you are authorized to use lethal force in any manner you deem necessary.”

  Adam was relieved. For him even the form in which he used his hands in combat was strictly regulated in accordance with the mission. Full liberty was reassuring.

  “Alright gentlemen, you have your assignments. The fate of Dallas, and possibly our whole nation rests on the success of your mission. Your plane leaves at o-nine-hundred tomorrow. Are there any questions?”

  The room was as solemn as a funeral parlor. Each one felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Adam had left that room exhilarated that he was to be a history-maker, yet he could not escape the notion that he had aged ten years in those few hours.

  CHAPTER 6

  Halcones

  “So, what’s the word…?” Ochoa asked of the man with the high-powered binoculars. “Can you see him? What’s he saying?”

  Although his tone was light enough, Antonio Ochoa’s intense black eyes and knitted black eyebrows indicated that he was more than interested in what Hernandez discovered through his binoculars. He was a man whose well-cut muscles even showed through his twenty-thousand-dollar suits. By the command that his chiseled face projected it was obvious that he was a man to be feared and respected.

  Ochoa Machado and Hernandez were on the uppermost balcony of the infamous “Castle”. From there they had a bird’s eye view of much of the nearby terrain on the other side of the border, notwithstanding the giant wall that separated them. Furthermore, and more importantly they had a clear view of two of the “halcones” (falcons-lookouts from hilltops) assigned to ke
ep watch on the other side. The closest was always designated to send them the final report of the viability of passing at the hour appointed. Should an emergency arise, the second closest hilltop was the fallback communication station.

  “He says it’s a go,” replied Hernandez.

  With the word “go” Ochoa immediately began to set things in motion. He ordered that the coyote be radioed at once to proceed. Then he turned to two of his cohorts and gave a sharp signal that they instantly obeyed. They set off to follow from a distance the group that was already obeying their radio message to cross over. They would head up the team to ensure that all went according to plan, and that none of the “indocumentados” tried to escape. Following close behind they would be the first to know and alert the team should there be any need to move in with a show of force.

  For Antonio the thought of another escape was a real sore spot. His favorite girl had been under his thumb for years, and just the week prior had managed to get away. It made his blood boil for so many reasons! The incompetence of the one who failed him was the first reason. A life for a life was his motto. He would warn each of his crewmembers, “If you allow a life to escape me, I’ll take yours. Remember that.” But the incompetent’s failure had been paid in full. He could still picture the blood on the wall that splattered from his bullet shattered head. Ochoa tolerated no slip ups.

  Even after redeeming the loss of Alicia Espinosa with the idiot’s life Antonio was not satisfied. Alicia was way too important to him, and to his plans.

  “Alicia, where are you?!!” He muttered the words under his breath.

  CHAPTER 7

  Zika Monster

  Alicia sat in the damp darkness of the Louisiana woods. She had been afraid to come out where she might be captured. In her roaming she had come across a kind of lean-to shack and decided to hide out a couple of days. The shack probably belonged to some hunters. Maybe they would come, and she could find refuge with them.