by T I WADE
Twenty of Seal Team Six, all the Spanish-speaking men, were included in the cars being driven into the government buildings, all with Colombian Special Forces uniforms given to them by Colonel Alberto Rodriquez, who was in command of the 10,000 loyal Colombian soldiers and the 2,000 U.S. Marines coming into the city.
“When are the three captives going to be presented to the meeting?” Charlie asked Carlos.
“Only tomorrow after lunch,” replied Carlos. “The Ambassador wanted a full day and a half to lead everybody in the meeting to think that nothing out the ordinary had happened regarding the Calderón family, and the emergency meeting was purely to bring the Colombian government up to date on the latest world affairs. It was the only way to make sure everybody important would attend. That is why Admiral Rodriquez had to fly in.”
One by one the cars stopped in front of the same entrance Carlos had used on his last trip. The men were ushered in in front of them and then it was their turn. Mannie, the ambassador’s bodyguard, waited for the cars to show the visiting Seals where to go and how to act.
Carlos caught up to his father and Uncle Philippe as they waited for him inside the doorway and out of harm’s way.
“Nothing has changed,” Uncle Philippe said to Carlos. Once again they were in the large room where dozens of officials congregated around a long table helping themselves to bocas and soft drinks. This time Carlos recognized the short military man who came up to greet them.
“Ambassador Rodriquez, aides, I am happy to see you safe. Did you have a good flight in? How is the United States? I’m sure you have much to tell us.”
“Yes, to all three, Mr. President. How is your grandson?” replied Uncle Philippe shaking the president’s hand and bowing slightly at the same time. Manuel and Carlos just bowed.
“Fine, and now I have a second and a third grandchild on the way, Ambassador. I’m sure you must have much to tell us, convening an emergency meeting, no?” the president asked.
“It is important that every member of the Colombian government knows and understands what is going on outside of our borders,” Philippe replied.
“Of course, of course, I look forward to your speech,” and the president saw General Rodriquez enter the room with Senator Calderón; both men seemed to be laughing at something. “Glad to see your families enjoying each other’s company, Ambassador Rodriquez. Please excuse me, I must welcome them,” and he headed towards the two men, more like a salesman than a president.
“He is the only president we have ever had who deems it necessary to welcome every member on the first day to the government meetings. It is one of the small things he does which makes me want to trust him,” whispered Philippe to Manuel and Carlos.
Philippe decided to follow the president to see what was so funny between his brother and the enemy, and they slowly wandered over, allowing the head of state the opportunity to greet them, and then move on to the next entering members.
“Ah! Philippe,” stated the general as his older brother approached. “I was discussing how lax the guards are out there with Senator Calderón, here, and he agreed with me, adding that there is possibly little to worry about on the first day.”
“Ambassador Rodriquez,” acknowledged the senator.
“Senator Calderón,” replied Philippe keeping his manners impeccable and even giving his arch-enemy a kindly smile. Carlos noted that neither man offered a hand shake.
“Nothing much ever happens at the beginning of these government meetings,” added the senator looking straight into Philippe’s eyes and smiling. “It is always Day Two or later when our arguments get heated that fireworks could happen.”
“What do we have to disagree about, Senator? The country has been going forward in these bad times, our citizens have food, and Americans don’t need drugs anymore; I’m sure that helps the world’s balance.
“Of course, Ambassador, now if you will excuse me,” and the senator went off to meet others.
“Today is a day everybody wants to listen, not to fight,” added Philippe to the two younger men.
Carlos didn’t know how anybody armed could enter the main chambers when the time came to start. There were three different stations next to the defunct metal detectors where everybody was searched from head to foot. Small military metal detectors still worked and three times Carlos and his family members were checked for anything metal. At the third area, they were expertly patted down by men wearing plastic gloves and sniffer dogs were in attendance.
“They must be explosive sniffer dogs, very few would get through if they were drug sniffer dogs,” joked Manuel to Carlos in a whisper. Carlos nodded and smiled in agreement.
They sat in the same chairs he and his father had last time, in the line of chairs against the wall, and he watched General Rodriquez and the Ambassador take their usual seats. Still munching on a snack as he was patted down, the admiral made a late appearance as everyone was taking their seats. The long table still had its forty-two chairs and Luiz Rodriquez was the last to take his seat nodding at everybody around the table.
The roll call was taken and Carlos noted that all forty-two chairs had a person in them again; only two chairs around the walls were empty, directly behind the senator.
The meeting began with a speech by the president, and Carlos recalled what he had seen since he entered the Nariño Palace. The only real security was at the front and only entrance where guards checked everybody’s name off a list. Then there was little security in the room where the snacks were. Only when everybody entered the main conference room, was everything checked. He had carefully counted the guards around the three separate security points. The first was the set of very large, dark wooden double doors which opened into a large palatial-style decorated, but empty room. Here, six well-dressed guards stood at attention. The large doors were built with thick mahogany; Carlos had tapped them as he had passed through, and they were thick enough to stop most bullets and small arms.
The second check point was at a second set of doors leading into a second room with another six guards, the room much the same size as the first one. The third checkpoint was at the third set of doors leading out of the empty room and into the main chamber.
“It would be hard to get armed men into this inner-chamber, which had no other doors leading in,” he thought to himself.
The time came for everybody to introduce themselves and, as he had done on his previous visit, he said,“ Carlos Rodriquez, Second Aide to U.S. Ambassador Rodriquez,” after his father had spoken his one-liner.
Carlos realized that there were new members where the empty seats had been last time and was quite surprised how young some of the governmental heads were.
For three hours the section-heads gave reports on the current situations inside the country.
Food was in good supply, farms and cross-border trade was doing well with all the countries around Colombia. Electricity was the main problem facing the country and help was needed to get it up and running. Ambassador Rodriquez was looked at often by the men speaking; the U.S. would be the most important country to ask for many of the current problems facing Colombia.
Carlos suddenly had a reason he and Preston could ask General Patterson to learn to fly a 747. The transporter, he realized could be doing this flight between these two countries on a daily basis.
Senator Calderón was quiet, he took notes and the two aides’ chairs behind him stayed empty.
Lunch was served in the outer room and for the second time Carlos took note of the security. The officials headed out to the first room where tables had been set up to serve lunch and he sat at a round table with his father, three uncles, and the four Colombian bodyguards filling the other chairs so nobody else could sit with them. Senator Calderón, as expected joined the police commissioner’s table, and Carlos observed that a couple of times through the meal, eyes were directed to their table. The food was good, spicy, and tasty compared the food he was use to in the States.
He sea
rched for the Seals he had driven in with, but they were nowhere to be seen, just the usual guards in the usual places. Something, he felt was wrong because everything looked so peaceful and perfect. He was sure it wasn’t going to continue like this.
As the meal was being finished, the ambassador got up from his seat and headed over to a table to speak with others. Carlos watched through the corner of his eye. He realized that one of the men, at the table the ambassador was visiting, sat next to him in the chambers. The aide belonged to the Minister of Education. Then his uncle wandered across to another table. The aides at this table sat next to his father and he knew they belonged to the Ministry of Water and Land Development. Then Philippe wandered over to a couple of other tables speaking to several ministers along the way. Carlos saw that he stayed away from the president’s table and the one next to it where Calderón and the police commissioner were sitting. Both tables also kept the travels of the ambassador in the corner of their eyes; the rest in the room ignored the several people walking around.
For the second time that day everybody had to go through the three security monitoring stations and Carlos was surprised when four new aides, well dressed in expensive business suits, sat on both sides of him and his father. Members of Seal Team Six, wearing fancy suits and carrying expensive briefcases, had entered the chamber. Charlie Meyers sat next to him, saying nothing.
The afternoon dragged on. Reports from ministers about their departments followed one after the other. The list of speakers, five for the afternoon, had been given out to each person in the room with the U.S. Ambassador in the last slot for the day, and forty-five minutes of speaking time, the longest for the day given to him.
Finally the house called on Ambassador to the U.S. Philippe Rodriquez to stand and, he did so, looking over a fist of notes before starting. Carlos didn’t know what he was going to say and the room became quiet, waiting for the news from the U.S.A.
For the first twenty minutes the ambassador reported the latest news dealing with what he and the Colombian Embassy personnel had seen and heard from all their sources. Carlos knew most of what was being said. His uncle spoke about the movement of the population into the middle area of the country for the summer, and maybe until further notice. He gave them estimated population losses, given to him by Mike Mallory. Then he spoke about the army returning and the developments in the president’s plan to enact martial law and protect the survivors against any threats.
He worked through his notes slowly, going from information already agreed upon by the U.S. president and General Patterson. He then talked about the Colombian navy helping the U.S. protect its sea borders with the three frigates under his brother. “A great opportunity to seal a lasting friendship with the U.S.A.!” he added
Finally he stated that he would continue with his report in the second session, planned just before lunch on the next day; he concluded his speech with a description of the work being done in Silicon Valley, and the information received from the U.S. Chief of Staff about the trip to China, and finding more Russian and Pakistani nuclear missiles, with the Russian one having the range and capacity to take out the whole East Coast. He explained that if it went off course and slightly southwards, the ten nuclear warheads could have taken out much of Central and South America, including Colombia. He stated that the people of Colombia had to thank the work done by U.S. troops to stop this final destruction of the world by the Chinese Communist Party.
“Ambassador Rodriquez, we will now have ten minutes of questions and then we will adjourn for the day,” stated the House Speaker. “Chief of Police, you have the floor,” he stated, acknowledging the first person who had raised his hand.
“Thank you for the latest information, Mr. Ambassador,” said Pedro Gonzalez. “In your last report you stated that the army had set up martial law across the United States?”
“That is correct, Pedro,” Philippe replied.
“What has changed since that report, and what has happened to possible lawlessness on America’s southern border?”
“The latest information I have, Pedro, and I had a feeling you would ask a question like this, is that the U.S. Chief of Staff has decided to set up a new police force using the military police from all the American armed forces divisions. That is, I believe, a hundred thousand men who will join any police forces still in existence.”
“So, they have soldiers and their new police force now patrolling the borders?” the police chief asked. The ambassador nodded. “Can you give us any numbers?”
Carlos was quite surprised by the ambassador’s reaction.
“Pedro, I am not told exact numbers, and I’m sure the U.S. government doesn’t want you to know their numbers either. I cannot understand why you ask these questions. All I know is that there are about half a million soldiers on the southern border, a hundred thousand on the northern border and the American government has cleared all cities and towns of civilians for at least 200 miles of each border.”
Carlos looked over to the senator and police chief as this was being said. His uncle was purely bringing the troop numbers out of thin air, but the looks on the faces of the two men were priceless.
“In addition to the U.S. soldiers, they have hundreds of aircraft, vehicles, jeeps, troop transporters, mortars and machine gun posts being dug in along the southern border especially.” Now Carlos knew his uncle was putting fuel on the fire he had just started. The ambassador continued, “There has been a little violence on the southern border, nothing to worry the American president about, and the American and Mexican armed forces are working well together to keep any border violence and crossings down to a minimum.”
What type of violence has been happening along the U.S./Mexican border?” asked Senator Calderón.
“What has this to do with Colombia?” asked the president sharply. “Senator Calderón, Police Chief Gonzalez, it sounds like you have something going on over there?”
“Please excuse my questions, Mr. President,” replied the police chief “but it does help our matters of internal and external security to know what is going on elsewhere around us.”
“I agree,” added Senator Calderón. “Ambassador Rodriquez, please answer my question,” the Senator asked curtly as if the ambassador was an insignificant member at the table.
“Of course, Senator,” replied Philippe smiling kindly at the senator. “There have been a few small problems in Mexico which spread into Texas. The U.S. military believes it was Venezuelan drug cartels trying to get a foot in the door. The Mexican army shot the first small group of banditos to shreds and the rest, who managed to boat across the Rio Grande were quickly dealt with by the American soldiers. That’s all, nothing significant, except that the Venezuelan cartels are fewer in number than before.”
“Are you sure these gangsters were Venezuelan?” Senator Calderón asked, his face etched in stone and very composed.
“I don’t know, I wasn’t there, but I was told this information by the American Chief of Staff. He even offered me a few prisoners to bring back here for information purposes; they will arrive in Colombia tomorrow, and we can interrogate them here in Bogotá. Hopefully Pedro Gonzalez can see fit to give these prisoners accommodation?”
“Of course!” the chief of police returned.
There were one or two other questions from others at the table: the quality of food in the U.S.? Were they still drinking coffee? Could relations be put in place to transport needed items in both directions? The ambassador acknowledged that ideas were already in place to work on all possible needs for both countries.
Carlos could see that things were not good on the other side of the table, and both the senator and chief of police were itching to get out of the room.
Five minutes later the president thanked everybody and the House Speaker reminded everybody to return in the morning.
It had been a long day, and Carlos followed the others out. He wasn’t rushing and Charlie Meyers stayed by his side. Suddenly it dawned o
n Carlos that the security details were gone. There were only the six fresh guards in each room standing at attention in their Presidential Troop uniforms.
“I think we need some firepower in there tomorrow,” Carlos said to Charlie. “Now is a good time if you can hide pistols or something in there, the security and metal detectors are down, and I’m sure they will be back in the morning. I think only a cleaning crew will be allowed in between sessions.”
“Stay here,” replied Charlie Meyers quietly. “Make sure I can get back in; here, take my briefcase, we can say I left it in there. I will be a few minutes,” and he quickly walked off towards the outer room.
Carlos returned to the room and placed the briefcase on his chair and returned to inspect the guard uniforms in the first security room, waiting for Charlie’s return. The men were as silent as the Queen’s guards he had visited once, outside Buckingham Palace in England. He tried to start a conversation with one man, but he stayed silent and stared forward.
His uniform was extremely colorful. He was one of the couple of hundred Presidential Guards always here at Palace Nariño. Much like the English Guards, he stood at attention and he didn’t move. Carlos saw movement in the corner of his eye and saw Charlie Myers and young Miguel Rodriquez, both dressed in their fancy civilian suits waiting for him.
“Are you coming, Carlos?” Miguel Junior asked with a very Colombian accent.
“Yes, but I think I left my briefcase in the house chambers,” Carlos replied.
“Well, hurry up, the drinks and the girls won’t wait, Señor; let’s go and find it and then go party,” Miguel replied loudly for the sake of the guards and the three men re-entered the government chamber. It was still empty, the last one or two aides were still talking and leaving the chamber; something about looking forward to seeing these Venezuelan prisoners tomorrow.
“Carlos, guard the door, don’t let anybody in. Give us three minutes and we will be out of here,” ordered Charlie and he and Miguel Junior headed for the seats they sat in that afternoon.