A Dubious Position (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 7) Page 12

  The memo was filled with innuendo and speculation, but was enough to trigger the famous tempter of Mexico’s leader. His Ambassador claimed he had received an inside tip from an anti-gun lobbyist named Werner Klotz. Klotz claimed the President of the United States was about to sign an executive order allowing the dreaded secret agency Homeland Security to venture into Mexico and eliminate the drug cartels. It would be done without gaining permission from the Mexican authorities.

  Klotz intimated that this was a response to the ongoing mismanagement by the Mexican government of the current crisis. Klotz claimed he had been at a state function the night before, where he overheard the U. S. President. The President told someone the Mexican President didn’t want to clean up the cartels because Mexico was making too much money from the drug trade and the facilitation of illegal immigrants into the United States.

  The Ambassador claimed the signing of the executive order would take place within a day. The final sentence of the communique was pure speculation, but it infuriated the already angry Mexican President. The Ambassador wrote that Klotz suggested the United States President was actually responsible for all the disasters. They were staged to gain support for the executive order he was about to sign.

  “Who does that ‘Gringo’ think he is? How dare he challenge the President of the United Mexican States?” The Mexican President roared as he slammed his fist on the desk. His top General sitting across from him flinched. He knew bad things would be coming. The Presidents top aide was also in the room, he had the same premonition.

  “We must be very careful,” the General warned. “This information sounds like it was made up to me.”

  “The General has a point,” the aide agreed.

  “I have been wondering about all that has been happening,” the President of Mexico proclaimed as he stared at the ceiling. “Every disaster has been a little too convenient, don’t you think?”

  “But many people have died, sir,” the aide pointed out. “That’s not very convenient for anyone.”

  “They have all been Latinos,” roared the President. “Even the American news team that died was all Latinos. Don’t you think it is a little suspicious?”

  “It could just be a coincidence,” the aide continued.

  “No, I don’t believe it is a coincidence. We must respond to this,” The President of Mexico insisted as he ripped the Cuban cigar out of his mouth and threw it onto the carpet. It was a sure sign that he was about to take action.

  “But sir, the United States is three times our size. It has the most advanced technology available. How can we possible respond?” The General was rightfully concerned about a military response.

  “But we can protect our own borders from invasion, can’t we?” The President confirmed the General’s worst nightmare. “We can also harass the American tourists.”

  “But sir, the tourist trade with the United States is the largest contributor to our economy. Cancun and Cozumel are two of the most visited places by American tourists in the world,” the aide protested. “If we disrupt the tourist trade, it could mean financial bankruptcy for the country.

  “I don’t give a shit about that right now,” the Mexican Leader roared once again and slammed both fists on the desk. “We must respond to the challenge. It is my honor that is challenged, not yours.”

  “But we have no plan,” the aide noted.

  “Well, here is the plan,” the leader said confidently as he leaned back in his large leather executive chair. “First, I want you to mobilize all the troops you can muster,” the President pointed to the General.

  “Yes, sir,” the already defeated General said. He was suddenly wondering if he could take an early retirement.

  “Position them all along the border. I want a show of force,” he growled.

  “That sounds reasonable,” the General agreed.

  But the President of Mexico wasn’t done. “I want the military and the police to search any white-looking Americans they encounter for contraband. This includes any coming over the border. We want to make them feel very uncomfortable. They will speak for us. Their complaints to their government will weaken the resolve of the U.S. President.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” the General replied. The racial profiling of white people was illegal, but he also knew that would stop no one. He knew that many in uniform including the military and especially the police departments, were corrupt and would look for ways to profit from the situation. This would create an even more hostile environment. Many women would be strip-searched or worse.

  “I want all communications from our government to the United States government to cease immediately. There is to be no phone calls, no emails, no text messages and no letters. I want the United States to experience a complete blackout with our government. Is that clear?” he demanded.

  “Won’t that just create more hostilities?” the aide suggested.

  “Let’s see who blinks first,” the fiery leader proclaimed.

  Not sure about the tactic, the aide replied with resignation. “I’m not sure cutting communications is a good idea.” His protest fell on deaf ears.

  “Next, I want an immediate tax levied on all American tourists. Before they can enter the country they must pay an additional one hundred dollars for the privilege of gracing our shores,” The Mexican President said as he looked right at his aide with a determined face. “We will collect the levy at the border.”

  “Sir, I don’t know if that is legal?” The aide was now consumed with the probability that his country was going to be financially ruined.

  “This is a time of crisis. I am instituting the legal powers vested in me in time of crisis,” the Mexican leader dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand.

  “Yes, sir,” the aide said not sure if he could.

  “When the Mexican people learn how the brutes to the North are manipulating us, they will agree,” he added.

  “But how will they find out?”

  “I want you to schedule a news conference for three o’clock this afternoon,” The leader smoothly replied.

  “To say what?”

  “I will tell them the truth about our relationship with the United States, of course,” the now smiling President answered. “When I am done speaking, world opinion will be on our side and many will support us, they will provide aid.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “But will your plan work?” The President of The United States asked skeptically. He had many resources available to him, but didn’t know who he could trust. So, he decided to go with Banyon’s plan. He had been successful in the past.

  “Yes, sir, I’m confident it will work,” Banyon replied. He had filled the President in on Slezeck, Klotz, the Efforts plan, and his own plan to defeat them. The President asked several questions, Banyon responded truthfully.

  While they were talking, the President sheepishly asked if Marlene Moore was part of the conspiracy. Banyon said, “Let me put you on hold for a second.”

  “Wolf,” he whispered. “Is Marlene Moore part of the conspiracy?”

  “Marlene Moore is madly in love with the President. She would do anything to protect him,” Wolf answered quickly. “So, no, she is not part of any conspiracy against him, or the country.”

  Banyon took the President off hold and responded. “Marlene is not part of them. She is no threat to you. You can trust her, sir,” Banyon told the leader of the free world. The President was relieved because he knew Marlene was more than a friend. She had pictures to prove it. They had been lovers on occasion after his first divorce. She could easily bring him down if she desired. It brought a smile to his lips.

  “But why can’t I just have them arrested right now?” The President was anxious to begin unraveling the damage caused by the Effort’s plan.

  “As of right now, we don’t have any evidence, sir. But my plan includes getting what we need to destroy these assholes,” Banyon responded.

  “But what about the additional two d
isasters you said Klotz has planned? Can you find out what they are?”

  “Sir, I can’t get information on the future. I can only report what has already happened,” Banyon patiently replied.

  “How many more people could die,” the President moaned.

  “Hopefully, I can find a way to stop the disasters before they happen. But sir, there is no guarantee. You should prepare for more bad things to happen.”

  Before the President could reply, the door to his office swung open, his secretary walked silently in. She approached his desk dropping a single piece of paper on the top. She then turned on her heel and left the oval office.

  “Wait one minute,” the President said into the phone as he picked up the urgent message and read it. It was a flash report from the DoD, Department of Defense. It was written in simple English and said the DoD had detected massive troop movements in Mexico. The troops were pouring into all the border towns. It further speculated that it could be a prelude to an invasion. “Oh my God,” the President muttered.

  “I think I know what the next disaster is,” he informed Banyon. “The Mexican army is massing on the border,” he relayed into the phone.

  “Yes, I just heard that from my source,” Banyon replied. While the President was reading the flash report, Banyon had asked Wolf for an update. “Also the Mexican President has scheduled a news conference for three o’clock, Central Time. That’s four o’clock your time, sir,” Banyon added.

  “What is he going to say?”

  “Only he knows so far,” Banyon told him.

  “Do they intend to invade?” The President quickly asked with a little panic in his voice. “I know they have many supporters along the border on the U.S. side. How will we know who is on our side?”

  “No, sir, but they want to show America they should not be taken lightly. They are however, going to create many problems,” Banyon told the President.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The army has orders to search every American they encounter, even those that have just crossed the border. Mr. President, some people will resist. The army then has orders to subdue them by any means required and take them into custody.”

  “But most of the people that cross the border are Latino looking. How will they know the difference?”

  “The army has been instructed to only detain white-looking people. You know what that means.”

  “Yeah, several pretty girls will disappear and many men will be beaten or killed,” he answered with anger. He knew the Mexican army was as corrupt as the police force.

  “They have also initiated a new tourist tax effective immediately.”

  “What?”

  Banyon explained it to him. “Any American entering Mexico, from now on, will be charged and additional one hundred dollars in taxes at the border. They will have to pay or not be allowed in the country.”

  “That will throw the State Department into complete chaos. I’ll be getting phone calls from everyone that has made a campaign contribution and has ties with Mexico,” The President lamented.

  “Not to mention what it will do to the import and export business with Mexico,” Banyon stated. He knew Mexico was one of America’s largest trading partners. Any disruption in trade would send both economies into ruin.

  “Colt, we need to solve this mystery quickly. It has to be done before the Mexican President makes his speech this afternoon,” The President demanded.

  “We are trying,” Banyon said a little too defensively.

  Suddenly, Banyon heard, “Wait one minute,” again as the President put him on hold.

  While Banyon waited, he took a second to look around his computer monitor to see how Eric was doing. Mandy was just standing up and fixing her mini-skirt. Sister Teresa was clapping and Eric looked very satisfied. Mandy headed to the open balcony door. As she passed Banyon she wore a broad smile.

  “See you later Mandy,” he said.

  “Not if I see you first,” she coyly replied as she zipped out the door and climbed over the rail. She then leaped and was gone.

  Banyon turned back to Eric, just in time to see someone else come through the door. Sister Teresa quickly stood up and joined the man as they both glided towards Banyon’s desk. Eric was once again crossing himself. Before he could greet him, the President came back onto the line.

  “Colt, are you still there?” He heard the President say into the phone.

  “I’m here, sir.”

  “I have to go,” the president started. People from the DoD, the Pentagon and the NSA are camped outside my door. They want to discuss the Mexico crisis.

  “I understand, sir,” Banyon politely replied.

  “You’re sure about this invasion thing?”

  “They have no intentions of invading,” Banyon reiterated to the President.

  “Good. Call me when you have something more concrete, and it had better be soon,” the President ordered.

  “I will,” Banyon promised. “But you need to do something to make this all work,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  Banyon explained what had to be done. “Can you do that?”

  “I’ll do it right now, before my meeting,” the President replied.

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” Banyon sincerely said.

  “How long do I have to put these guys off?”

  “We’ll have something in a few hours,” Banyon replied.

  “I don’t know how long I can hold off this pack of warmongering wolves,” the President said. “They always want to make a preemptive strike whenever there is a crisis,” he said with disgust.

  The President hung up the phone before Banyon could say anything in return.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Banyon set his phone on the desk and stared at the man in front of his desk. He was portly, around sixty years old, bald, and held a bible in his hands. He was a priest. Banyon suddenly had some big concerns about his surveillance team.

  “Hello, I’m Father Grey,” the man said and held out his hand. The hand was large and callused.

  “He’s not a real priest,” Sister Teresa quickly noted. “He is actually Jim, from accounting,” she added.

  “Sister Teresa and I have worked together many times before,” the priest nodded towards the nun.

  Banyon stood up and shook his hand. “Okay, but the assignment could be dangerous. Are you able to protect yourselves?”

  Father Grey opened his bible. Inside was a semi-automatic hand gun. He opened his suit coat and Banyon saw a set of three knives hanging from Velcro tabs inside the coat. Father Grey flicked his wrist and a derringer appeared in his hand. “I’m also an ex-professional boxer,” he added for emphasis. “Do you have any questions now, Mr. Banyon?” The priest took a pious pose. Sister Teresa had her hands clasped in prayer mode. They looked like they were about to conduct a service.

  “Want to see my weapons?” Sister Teresa suddenly blurted out. With a flurry, she began pulling up her habit. She had reached thigh level before Banyon stopped her.

  “Okay, you two will do,” he announced with his hands in the stop position. “You will be working with a third person today. What I want you to do is video and record everything that transpires.”

  “Who’s the vic?” Father Grey asked.

  “Walter Klotz.”

  “You mean the asshole anti-gun lobbyist from Washington?” Father Grey asked with distain.

  “The same,” Banyon answered him. “He is coming to Chicago this morning. He will be meeting with six Mexican hit men in the Ajax car rental parking lot at Midway airport. They are part of a bigger plan. They are here to attempt to murder me and my friends.”

  Suddenly, nervous and shocked, Sister Teresa asked Banyon, “You want us to eliminate them? We are not equipped to take down that many targets.”

  “No, stay far away from the Mexicans, Eric and I will take care of them. I want you to take pictures of their faces and the license plate of the car that they are driving th
ough. I need to know where they are at all times. Then we will take them down when no one else can get hurt.”

  “That’s all?” Father Grey grumbled.

  “No, after they leave the lot, then your real work will begin,” Banyon informed them.

  “So, who is Klotz meeting with then?” The nun asked.

  “I’m guessing he will be meeting with me,” a voice said from behind the religious duo.

  Banyon once again stood up and the surveillance team turned around. “Meet Paul Slezeck, Director of Homeland Security,” Banyon announced.

  “It’s really, me, Bart,” the man said.

  “Very good likeness, I’m sure you will fool Klotz, especially because he wouldn’t be expecting you,” Banyon complimented Bart. “You’re a little shorter than he is though,” Banyon brought up his hand to his chin in thought.

  “Pleasure to meet all of you,” Bart said in the exact voice of Slezeck.

  “Got it,” Banyon blurted. “We will have you seated in a rental car. It will hide your height. You can also place cameras in the car.”

  “Brilliant,” the Slezeck imposter said dramatically.

  Banyon handed each of them a sheet of paper he had just written before they had entered his office. “Here is the location and the timing for the sting. “Klotz will have a watcher from Homeland Security following him, so you will have to take him out. No need to kill him, he is just an employee of Homeland.”

  “We will get there early and be ready,” the man who looked like Slezeck said.

  “As soon as you are done call me and give me any information that will help stop these clowns. Then get back here ASAP. Up load all the videos on the way in.”

  “What about Klotz, should we eliminate him before we return?” Sister Teresa suddenly asked.

  “No, his usefulness will end as soon as he activates the hit men. Slezeck plans to have him killed using Homeland Security black ops people later this afternoon back in Washington. We intend to catch them in the act. It is all part of the evidence we need to corral the real Slezeck.”