Aztlán Portal - Cover

Aztlán Portal

Copyright© 2021 by Paladin_HGWT

Chapter 3: Seeking Information

Foothills of the Sierra Madre Occidental 50km south of Cuauhtémoc, Chihuahua state (100km NE of Barranca del Cobre)
9:11 A.M. ZPT (Zona Pacifico) Tuesday March 20th 2018

(dialogue spoken in Spanish, but written in English; some Spanish in italics)

Most of the Federales and Rurales in and around Cuauhtémoc were trying to protect refugees, and slowdown the main advance of the invaders. Their superiors were more concerned about containing the situation, and preventing more people from becoming refugees and heading for the city of Chihuahua, or other cities. Unfortunately, they were only having minimal success trying to control the refugees. There was far too few Federales to restore order, even with the augmentation of some Rurales and other volunteers, there were not enough boots on the ground to stem the tide. Casualties amongst those skirmishing with the invaders were appallingly heavy!

The situation was confused, unbelievable, except that Policia Sargento Primero Nunez had seen some of these terrors with his very own eyes. Despite what he had seen, he did not believe many of the tales told by panicked refugees, or even some of his brothers in arms. Some of these opponents were men, others were grayish or brown skinned goblins or gremlins, creatures from fairy tales. Whatever they were, wherever they were from, they were cunning, and were adept at ambushing the Federales. Despite the advantage of speed, and some protection, the vehicles they used could be detected, and ambushed at close range negating the Federales advantage of long-range weapons.

It was only because all other plans to thwart the enemy had failed, that Sub Inspector Jiménez had reluctantly okayed Nunez’s and Lopez’s risky scheme. Their requests for assistance were constantly rebuffed with demands of “actionable intelligence” ... Rumors of what was being done to the people who had not escaped were lurid. Tales of columns of people in chains being led away, but no one knew where they were being taken, or why, nor was there any clear idea of how many people had been taken prisoner. Savage attacks upon people who tried to resist the invaders were common, although details were few. Some people claimed that many of the bodies were desecrated, some may have been impaled or crucified, like something out of a Mad Max movie. There were claims that some of the prisoners, mostly women were being raped, that was believable, the Narcos commonly did that too. However, Sargento Nunez did not want to believe the rumors about people being eaten.

Sargento Primero Nunez had worked with Juan Lopez several times, each time they had managed to sneak up upon locations reasonably well guarded by members of the cartels. Sargento Nunez thought it was worth taking some risks to try to infiltrate past the leading elements of these invaders, to discover who or what was behind them. In previous encounters, while riding in their trucks, Nunez and his comrades had been taken by surprise, and unable to observe much of anything. Accurate assessments are hard to make in the cab of a truck bouncing wildly, going cross country amidst clouds of dust.

Most of the Federales would be armed with M-16A2s, or G3 rifles, one of his men had an FN Minimi light machinegun, and another had an older M60 machinegun firing the same 7.62x51mm bullets as the G3 rifles. No one was in uniform; they were wearing clothing that would blend in with the terrain. In their backpacks each man, except the radio man, carried two hundred round boxes of ammo, one for both types of machinegun, combined that was twelve pounds (6kg), additional ammo for their own weapons, a bit of food, plenty of water, a poncho or serape, and a warm jacket. Two of his men had some medical training, and were carrying first aid kits. Everyone had a cellular phone, still, one of his men would be carrying an army radio to communicate with half a dozen men, and several trucks, each with a mounted machinegun, who were to be prepared to race in and evacuate them if they ran into too many enemies.

Sargento Nunez had chosen his men yesterday afternoon, he did not have many options. He chose mostly younger men who were fit, and who had encountered the enemy at least once. Nearly all of them grew up in rural areas, uncommon, because most Federales came from the cities or larger towns. His ad-hoc peloton of seventeen consisted of both Gendarmería and de Seguridad Regional of the Policia Federal (Federales). Perhaps two-thirds of the men on this patrol were known to Primero Nunez, however, he really trusted only five of the Gendarmería who had been on raids against the cartels with him. He assigned these trusted men to the most important duties, both machinegunners, another carried their only sniper rifle, Sargento Segundo Garcia, his second in command who would be responsible for rear security, preventing stragglers; last but not least was his cousin Felipe Nunez.

Juan Lopez joined the Rurales for the Mosqueton Mod. 1954, a Mexican version of an M1903 Springfield rifle, a Yankee weapon that many considered the best version of the German K1898 Mauser. It fired the Yankee .30-06 round, identical to the M1 Garand, which had been the primary weapon of the Mexican Army from the 1940’s and well into the 1980’s. The M .1954 was still being issued to the Rurales in the second decade of the Twenty First Century. It was an excellent weapon for hunting. His bolt-action rifle fired a round slightly more powerful than the G3 rifles some of the Federales; certainly, longer ranged than the .223 bullet of their M-16A2 rifles.

Juan was chosen by his comrades to lead their understrength peloton of nine men of the Cuerpo de Defensa Rural (Rural Defense Corps) commonly called the Rurales, from an ejido (communal farm) south of Cuauhtémoc; because he enjoyed hunting, and had earned a reputation of being a crack shot, who rarely missed. Juan was also a gifted tracker, and was stealthy enough to stalk deer, or the wily Sicarios employed by the Cartels. Juan had considered several routes for this patrol; they were using the route that he had recommended to Sargento Nunez. It was not the most obvious route, there was quite a bit of concealing terrain, and yet, if needed, the trucks could use a nearby dirt road to race in and evacuate them.

They got a full night of sleep thanks to Sargento Nunez, who arraigned accommodations for them at a nearby hacienda, rather than the temporary quarters being used by many of the Federales. They got up at 0600, had a hearty breakfast, and were headed south in their trucks before 7 AM. It was foggy and misty as they dismounted from the vehicles, and began their reconnaissance. The volunteers in the peloton of Rurales were toting less than half of the weight of gear than the Federales; the lack of body armor was a significant advantage when climbing through the foothills. A pair, or two pairs of Rurales would scout ahead, climbing to higher ground to provide security for their comrades.

Juan Lopez, their best tracker, roved about, seeking signs of any possible invaders. The rest of the Mexican militia would follow the easiest path, other than the dirt road. Partially this was to avoid most probable ambush sites. More importantly, they sought to avoid leaving easily detectable tracks. Both Juan and Sargento Nunez realized that the passage of more than a score of men would likely be detected by any reasonably alert opponent. Despite the extra effort, it seemed prudent to have the patrol stick to higher ground.

A bit more than two hours after they began their patrol, they had covered nearly sixteen kilometers. A pair of scout teams were in a position to observe an ejido (communal farm) in a small valley along their route of march. Some of the peasant farmers had fled to Cuauhtémoc, joining the throngs of refugees fleeing north. None of them had any credible tales about the invaders. Sargento Nunez figured that they could possibly gather some information, or at least rumors from the local farmers. The patrol would also be able to refill their canteens and water bottles. Sargento Nunez had attended a course taught by Yankee DEA agents; the best instructor was an Apache, who had served as a Marine in Afghanistan, he emphasized the importance of drinking plenty of water while on patrol.

Juan paused to get Sargento Nunez’s attention; his scouts had signaled that there was danger ahead at the ejido. Sargento Nunez brought his sniper, as well as Julio Ramírez, the M60A3 gunner, and another man forward with him. He set the machinegun team in a position to cover both the ejido, and the road in the valley below. The sniper accompanied them as they stealthily moved closer to the small settlement. Using the sparse vegetation, they moved carefully along a spur of the ridgeline. At their chosen observation post, they couldn’t see any movement, nor hear any noises.

There was a decrepit no-cab farm tractor sitting idle adjacent to the road, its engine compartment was open. A stake-back trailer was hooked to the tractor, its back gate was open, and the trailer was empty. There were several buzzards that were attending to something just beyond the tractor. The sniper observed the carcasses of several pigs and cows. From the presence of more buzzards, it seemed likely there was further carnage in the vicinity of a metal barn in the center of the community. Juan nudged Sargento Nunez, and pointed at a half a dozen scarecrows that were clustered in the middle of the compound. Sargento Nunez wondered why they were there, and not in the various surrounding fields. Perhaps to facilitate plowing the fields?

Sargento Primero Nunez focused his binoculars, then exclaimed, “Ay Caramba! Those Aren’t Scarecrows!”

Las Cruces, New Mexico
10:3
0 A.M. MDT (Mountain Daylight Time) Tuesday March 20th 2018

After a leisurely breakfast, Raul de la Cruz checked the three of them out of their rooms at the Hotel Encanto de Las Cruces. He had reserved two motel rooms in Abilene, for them to stay the night. Despite his misgivings, according to the GPS, the most efficient route was to take US Interstate 10 through El Paso. According to the GPS and the radio, the morning commute was over, and traffic was reasonable. As far as he could tell, traffic into the USA from Ciudad Juarez was only slightly greater than average. None-the-less, he wanted to get through it, and headed east as soon as possible.

As they passed Fort Bliss, Raul noticed a flight of four US Army helicopters take off and fly directly towards his SUV. The helicopters flew parallel to the interstate for several miles, but just as he really began to sweat, they veered off and flew due East, while the freeway headed southeast. As he continued east there was less traffic. Raul tried to be surreptitious as he surveyed the other vehicles for agents conducting surveillance, or other government entities.

Raul was puzzled that there was no news on either Mexican or Gringo TV, or radio, about what was happening down by his uncle’s hacienda near Nonoava. Perhaps all the coverage about the series of gun battles between gang members of the Sinaloa Cartel, and the Los Zetas, that started on Sunday night was understandably of more interest to the local stations. However, even on the internet there was almost no mention of what was going on. Videos would pop up, then disappear. Only on websites frequented by conspiracy theorists was there much to be found. Maybe that was why real news sites were not covering the extraordinary events?

Most people assume that Gringos are idiots, even as they marvel at their inventions, medicine, engineering feats, and hope to send their children to their universities. Communist China seems to be pretty effective at sanitizing the internet, and other media, of things they did not like. Snowden and others leak secrets, despite efforts of the Yankee government to stop them. Yankees frequently boast about their Constitution, and they, along with many people of other nations make jokes about the CIA, DEA, and a plethora of other agencies. Yet, there did seem to be things the Gringos did manage to keep secret; or to discredit as mere conspiracy theories.

It was amazing how much information he would have thought to be secret, could easily be found on the internet. The USA uses more than satellites, drones, manned aircraft, such as the thousands of helicopters, hundreds of turbo-prop surveillance planes used by the DEA, and dozens of various AWACS, J-STAR, and “Rivet Rider” aircraft, even U-2s and Global Hawks. They also had an extensive flotilla of aerostats, more commonly called blimps, few people knew how many they used during World War Two as a “secret weapon” against enemy submarines. Now they use them in their so-called war against drugs.

Most people mocked the Gringos for their buffoonish failures to stop the flow of drugs. Yet many cartels had collapsed in Columbia, Mexico, and elsewhere. Sometimes Raul wondered if the Gringos deliberately pretended to be buffoons, to fool the unwary. Just like Jonathan Winters character in Moon Over Parador. Raul considered it prudence, not paranoia, to suspect that at least a few Gringos in the Yankee government had some idea of what was going on in Mexico, and were deliberately sanitizing YouTube, Google and other parts of the internet.

Cameras were a threat too. Raul had learned about the vast array of cameras in Europe, especially in London. Neither the USA nor Mexico had an extensive government network of cameras. Yet. Some places, such as Mexico City, Washington D.C., and airports had many cameras, although most of them were parts of private networks. Many Freeways and other major roads in the USA had cameras monitoring them too. Raul had learned quite a bit about the capabilities, and vulnerabilities of security camera monitoring systems. It was part of his responsibilities to install and periodically inspect security systems for his uncle’s properties.

It was nearly impossible to track an individual in real time. However, with enough computing power, and access to data such as credit card transactions, traffic cameras, and similar information, a person’s movements could be traced in a matter of days, sometimes hours. With a little creativity, and access to his uncle’s resources, Raul could do it. Government agencies had vast resources; however, laws, regulations, and bureaucratic issues could often encumber the authorities. Unsanctioned individuals, accessing the government data bases were potentially more of a threat.

Grateful as he was to his uncle for paying for his education at elite private schools in Mexico, then for a Bachelors of Science degree in Civil Engineering at Texas A&M, a top American University; Raul felt trepidation about his uncle. Wealthy people in Mexico, as elsewhere, also had to be powerful to remain wealthy. Inevitably, rich businessmen collaborated with influential government officials, and powerbrokers associated with the Narco Conglomerates. In Mexico no one was beyond the La Mordida, the “Little Bite” or a “Piece of the Action” as a Chicago Gangster would say. Raul’s Uncle Rodrigo de la Cruz, despite appearing urbane and courteous, was foremost a hard man in a perilous world.

Raul’s father had been murdered some ten years ago. His father had been an engineer, and exclusively worked on projects for Rodrigo de la Cruz. No one would give Raul any details, even years later, however, it seemed that Uncle Rodrigo felt an obligation to be lavishly generous to the family of Antonio de la Cruz. Even as a youth, Raul could sense that this was against Rodrigo’s nature, despite the façade that his uncle projected in public. Not to say that the wealthy businessman was evil or merely greedy. Rodrigo de la Cruz truly seemed to love his family, and donated generously to several worthy charities, and also the Catholic Church. None-the-less, Raul had learned that Uncle Rodrigo was calculating, even ruthless in matters of business, and perhaps other matters as well.

Raul was not sure if he was willing to try to exist off the grid. None-the-less, he was planning to acquire some resources to be able to have a better chance of doing so, before he lost access to most, or all, of his uncle’s assets. It seemed he had already lost the trust of his uncle. Yet, if Raul helped himself to the assets, he was contemplating acquiring; it was likely his uncle would consider him a thief! If he decided to actually appropriate significant assets from his uncle’s stashes in the USA it would sunder the bonds of La Familia!

While attending Texas A&M he had to devote most of his time to academics. However, similar to many of his fellow engineering classmates, he was a fan of science fiction, books as well as movies. He also watched The Walking Dead, and other post apocalypse TV shows and movies. Much of it was Hollywood fantasy, however, two things were true. First, no matter how fantastical or even primitive the invaders seemed; it must have required immense power to travel to Earth. Power greater than the sadly dysfunctional government of Mexico would understand, and was probably unprepared to resist. Two, in an apocalypse the greatest danger was often other humans!

Raul figured his uncle, a practical man, probably had no context to judge the emerging threat. Few people bothered to analyze situations; most people acted upon emotions; some would try to intellectually justify it later. Some of his friends in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M had told him that the US Army and Navy had decided that an Engineering education was the best method to prepare Officers to rationally perform their duties. They did this way back in the 1830’s, when most other countries were more concerned about superior equestrians, and a man’s ability at swinging a sword to choose their leaders.

Privileged to be an engineer, he was trying to analyze the situation logically. Raul admitted to himself that fear and emotion were powerful influences upon him. None-the-less, he believed that his presumptions about the imminent cataclysmic danger posed a greater threat than possibly anyone else perceived. He was disturbed that powerful forces seemed to be sanitizing information on TV and the internet. If the authorities were prepared to deal with the emerging threat, the networks would be swarming the area, similar to the coverage of hurricanes and volcanos; exposing cub reporters to a potentially gruesome death to entertain audiences for five minutes or so. Aggressive suppression of videos and other information on the web indicated concern by the authorities, at least that was Raul’s supposition.

Señor de la Cruz, I am cold.” Jacinthe Martinez said.

“Huh?”

“Since we left El Paso, you have been turning up the air conditioner every ten or fifteen minutes, now it is very cold in here, and we do not have any jackets or sweaters.” Jacinthe said.

“Oh? Pardon,” Raul said, as he turned the SUV’s air conditioner back to a normal level.

Raul now noticed that he was sweating copiously, and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Even before his father Antonio’s death, Raul had been a private person, an introvert. Oh, he enjoyed playing football (soccer) and baseball with the other boys at the exclusive private schools he attended. However, he preferred to play games, or conduct research on his computer; or even to read books. His nature suited his profession of engineering. His manners, vocabulary, and educated manner of speaking Spanish, English, and French revealed his privileged upbringing. However, his stand-offish-ness, now resulted in him having no trusted comrades to turn to for assistance. An apocalypse was looming, Raul would be on his own!

Perhaps, not completely, Raul asked, “Manuel, Jacinthe, please remind me how you got hired?”

“Our grandmother was a cook for your family. About twenty years ago she was struck by a drunk driver while shopping for some special ingredients to make a recipe your father enjoyed. Despite your father paying for her medical care, she was permanently crippled. You father offered her a deal, she would train her replacement, including some special secret recipes of hers. In return your father would provide her with a pension, and her own home. Your father was very generous, and Nana Maria lives in a wonderful cottage in the back of the gated community near Mazatlán, where your family has a vacation home. She has her own garden, and earns extra money-making trinkets she sells to turistas.” Manuel told Raul.

“Our father was a cook too, he was unlucky, and killed during an attack upon some Federales eating in his restaurant. Several years later, our mother, along with some other people she knew, paid some Coyotes to take her to the USA, we have not heard from her since. We lived with our Nana Maria. I think your mother, or perhaps your uncle helped us get into a good Catholic School near Nana’s home. Benita, your family’s cook, who our Nana trained, told her that there was an opportunity to cook and clean for you, while you worked on a project for your uncle. So, we dropped out of school for such a good opportunity. It was hoped, if we did a good job, you might hire us full time. Your mother, I think, is who got us hired. Your family has been good to our family.” Manuel said.

Raul chided, “Neither of you should have dropped out of school for jobs as domestics. Education is important.”

“Señor de la Cruz, we were not going to college, and we are better educated than most orphans, or other people our age. Too many jobs, like my father’s, make us victims of gangs. My sister is sixteen, many men demand ... favors from young women. Your father never philandered, according to our Nana. She told us he was a rare good Catholic, unlike many rich men who feel entitled to indulgences. You are a gentleman, a real gentleman, what Nana calls a Hidalgo! You saved us during the attack, you did not abandon us, most Jefes would have only cared about their own safety.” Manuel said.

Raul felt shame, and said nothing as they continued their exodus to Abilene tonight, and a bank vault in Dallas tomorrow.

The source of this story is Finestories

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