Reign of Terror

by Frank Perry

back across without an official invite. It takes three weeks to process someone for extradition. So, you know what? We don’t even try. They just get a ninety-day notice to appear in court and off to Chicago they go. So, don’t come down here expecting to be in charge. No way. We do things by the book.”

  Peter looked straight into Schmitt’s eyes as Moritz and the Colonel looked away. “Look, Chief. John Stokes went after your guy too. That took guts, and I doubt that you would do it!”

  “So give him a medal, or send it to his wife. We tried to keep him over on this side, but the commando wouldn’t listen. I’ll be damned if I’ll lose any sleep over it.”

  Peter sat back and looked at him. “Look, I’m not asking you to do anything. I’ll go after Stokes myself, and the other guy too.”

  Schmitt smirked, “Hah, fat chance. We used up some credits getting Stokes in there. We can’t help you, too.”

  Colonel Colson called a timeout, “Gentlemen, can we step back a bit? Look, Major. The Chief is right. We can’t cross the border without approval of the Mexican government. So, why don’t you go get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll see what can be done when we’re all rested.”

  Peter responded, still looking at Schmitt, “Respectfully, Ma’am, our guys are not getting a good night’s sleep. That means our Guardsman and your Agent, Morales, unless they’ve already done ‘em.”

  She continued, “Even so, we’re done here tonight. I suggest we re-convene at 1000.”

  Peter shrugged and was slow to rise as the others filed out. He voiced his objections to the Colonel before leaving, but it didn’t change anything.

  Exiting through the double glass doors, the desert heat and smell of sage pollen was totally new to him. In the blackness, a white USBP truck sped away, probably the Chief. Peter realized that he didn’t have a ride or reservation anywhere at almost three in the morning when the DEA supervisor approached him in the dark parking lot. Leo Moritz had been silent until then, saying, “Major, can we talk?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m sorry if that was harsh.”

  “Hey, no problem. I understand completely, so, let me read your mind for a moment.”

  Peter looked at him quizzically, as Leo continued, “You’re a Ranger and don’t leave comrades in the field. As a matter of fact, we have the same credo in the DEA, but we’re a dark organization without publicizing much.”

  Peter shook his head. “Yeah, some of my buddies have worked with you guys in the drug lands. It’s a dirty business when your guys go to bed with them.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s what we sign up to do. So, I figure you’re planning to head down to the nearest checkpoint and cross over, as a tourist. Am I right?”

  Peter looked at him, saying, “Hadn’t quite figured it all out, but that sounds about right.”

  “Okay, I’m not going to tell you to do it or even tell you it’s the right thing to do, but you’ll need some logistics help.”

  Peter looked at Moritz but didn’t say anything as Leo continued, handing Peter a note “Here’s a phone number in Juarez that you should call when you get across. Ask for ‘Guy,’ it’s short for a longer name. He’s one of us, not a field operative, but a good driver and general logistician. He can be called any time, day or night. I’ll let him know in advance. After you memorize the number, destroy the note.”

  Peter responded, “This is very helpful.”

  “You’re going to have a tough time over there. It isn’t a place any of us would go. So, if you want to get going, I’ll drive you to the Mexican station.”

  “Sure, let’s go!”

  At her home in Washington, Rachael couldn’t sleep thinking about Peter flying to Texas overnight, probably going into harm’s way again. She had broken their engagement and basically destroyed any hope Peter might have of rejoining her. So, why was this different? When he went on that suicidal mission in Iran, he’d gambled with her feelings or assumed they didn’t matter. She’d been emotionally destroyed while watching him nearly get killed on infrared video from DoD satellite cameras. She wasn’t going to be in that circumstance again and she had said so when he returned.

  Now, he was going after John, which should have cancelled any hope for their future, but it was different this time. Why? Mexico or Iran, it didn’t matter. Both were equally dangerous. The thoughts of Peter were conflicted. She feared for him one moment, and then loved him the next. She had hidden the feeling for months. John and Carolyn kept appearing in her dreams also. That was the difference.

  She awoke before dawn and dressed quickly without breakfast. The Langley cafeteria had bagels and tea. At seven, she was in the office momentarily checking messages, but couldn’t concentrate. She headed down toward Vitale’s office. She was actually surprised to find him behind his desk reading something on his terminal.

  “Excuse me, Sir.”

  “Well, good morning, Rachael. It’s really early for you.”

  “Yes, Sir, I couldn’t sleep.”

  He responded, “Yeah. I have a lot of nights like that.”

  “Sir, I wanted to talk to you about something, about Jamie Montes.”

  “Sure, Rachael. Ah, but first, let me apologize for coming down on you in our last meeting. I was under pressure and, regrettably, took some of it out on you.” [and I have it all on tape].”

  “It’s all right, Sir. I can’t even imagine the load on you.”

  “Yes, well. What about Montes?”

  She sat in the chair opposite his desk, “Sir, I haven’t seen him since your meeting. He’d avoided me for days. Now he’s just gone.”

  “What do you mean -- gone?”

  “I warned him about travelling without my approval, and I started asking questions about his project, which he avoided. Now his desk looks completely cleared, and I can’t find anyone who knows where he is.”

  Vitale sat back and steepled his hands staring at her, “What do you think he’s done, Rachael?”

  “I don’t know, Sir. He’s just been overly secretive and now seems to have disappeared.”

  “Call me Sandy. We can’t stand another scandal here, Rachael.”

  “Yes, Sandy. I know it, but I needed to tell someone. I needed to tell you.”

  “Look, Rachael, I know this place still mystifies you. Hell, it mystifies me, and I’ve been dealing with spooks for twenty years. One thing, though, that’s worse than scandal is a cover-up. If we find Montes is in the shit, he’s going to be swimming alone.”

  “Sandy, I don’t know enough to accuse him of anything, but I’d like your permission to begin an internal investigation.”

  “Rachael, our business is based partially on instinct and supposition. If you sense something wrong, then I want you to pursue it. An investigation is warranted, but I want you to keep me informed all the way. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Sir, it is.”

  She thanked him and left feeling a little happier. It was the first time he had actually empowered her to do anything at the Agency, and it felt good.

  She thought to herself, So Mr. Montes, what’s your story?

  In Country

  Crossing the border was easier than Peter had expected. The Mexicans seemed less concerned about foreign visitors coming south than the American Immigration Officers in the opposite direction. It was remarkable how quickly the scenery changed from El Paso to Juarez. He walked down the dirty sidewalk avoiding pits and cracks. The faded storefronts had once been brightly colored to attract tourists, but most were now dingy and unappealing. He walked about one block in darkness passing occasional groups of American soldiers hurrying to get back across to Ft. Bliss before morning reveille.

  At the first corner, he hid in a darkened doorway and dialed the number Moritz had given him. When a man answered speaking Spanish, Peter said in English, “I need to speak to Guy.”

  “This is Guy.”

  “Guy, I am a friend of Leo Moritz, do you know him?�
�

  “Yes, I know.”

  “He said you could help me during my stay in Mexico.”

  “How long is your stay, Señor?”

  “I’m not sure. Not long. I’m just looking for a lost friend.”

  “All right, if Mr. Leo say okay, I can help you. Where are you now?”

  “I’m one block south of the All Americas Bridge checkpoint ... ”

  Before he could say more, Guy responded, “Stay there, I will be there in one half hour, maybe little bit more.”

  The line went dead before Peter could tell him how to recognize him. Then he realized that he was the only North American on the street, so he stepped deeper into the door well.

  It was almost seven o’clock in DC, so he called the Pentagon, using an extension he knew by heart. Someone answered “Army Intelligence, please identify.”

  “Hello, this is Major Shields. Is Top Sergeant Blomstein there?”

  “Yes, Sir, hold one.”

  After a short pause a voice answered, “Blomstein.”

  “Hey, Josh.”

  “Peter, how are you? Where are you?”

  “I’m standing in a shadow south of the border.”

  “All right, I hate to ask why you would be doing that before dawn.”

  “It’s related to that phone call I asked you to trace.”

  “You must be in Juarez, because that’s where the signal was from.”

  Peter took a long breath, “Thank God, I was afraid we’d lose it.”

  “What’s going on, Major?”

  Peter and Josh had gone through Ranger training together and had been Sergeants in the 82nd before Peter was commissioned. His special relation