Broken Gate

By Edward Charles and Anne Charles

Mexican citizens in northern Mexico are outraged with the crimes being made against them by drug cartels and warlords. They decide to fight back. Internal vigilante groups are formed and a charismatic leader emerges, one who the people call the new Pancho Villa. He solicits the help of concerned US citizens and soon a militia of retired war heroes from past conflicts is formed, many who are wounded warriors. These dedicated people are convinced that this cancer of evil must be cut out and replaced with something new. They know neither Mexico nor the US can effectively deal with the problem.
With the right amount of financing and private US support will it be enough to rid the area of the crooks, drug dealers and smugglers? What happens if this group takes over northern Mexico? Is it possible to form a new, free independent country between the US and Mexico? Many think so, others do not. Broken Gate is a novel of suspense and intrigue that delves into the what-if of a new, United Free Mexico.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward Charles
• Release date: Jul 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311545060

Edward Charles

Edward Charles was born in South Wales in 1941 and brought up in North London. He studied economics and law at the University College of Wales and then earned a PhD in corporate finance at Manchester Business School. After a short period as an academic, he began a career in finance and management consulting, working in Europe, the United States, and Asia. He retired from international business in 2006 and has published several novels. Edward lives in Devon, England, with his wife.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The meeting took place south of Douglas, Arizona. It was late at night in the high Mexican desert thirty miles south of the border and three miles west of the nearest town. A half moon and bright stars shone down on the stark, dry, mile high landscape. Coleman lanterns lit a rundown thirty by thirty barn, hay bales served as seating and a large cooler full of cold water bottles became a working desk. Fifty citizens, the most influential people in this part of the country were there to make decisions. Their leader, Juan Garcia was pacing back and forth. He had a water bottle in his hands and every few minutes stopped his pacing to unscrew the top, take a sip and then screw the top back on. He looked around the crowd as people arrived, counting attendance. It was an ominous occasion. The pall over the crowd confirmed tonight was the time for life and death decisions to be made.

When everyone arrived, Juan raised his hands in the air. Brothers and sisters, it is time to decide. We have met now over the last year seven times and worked through all concerns and details. The time for talk is over. Is there any doubt in any of your minds? Does anyone want to voice concern for our desire to effect change? He waited thirty seconds and looked each member in the eyes. Then, it is time for a vote. Cast your ballot here, in this bowl. He held a tequila pitcher in the air and then set it on the cooler. One by one the fifty citizens came forward and placed their ballot in the bowl. When all had voted Juan chose two from the crowd to confirm the count. After conferring with the vote counters he addressed the crowd, It is unanimous. We declare war on the drug cartels. I will set stage one in place. Tonight we must discuss its implementation. He pulled out a map and some papers, spread them on the cooler and began planning the final steps of stage one. Two hours later, one by one the crowd dispersed into the dark desert night betraying no one.

* * * *

The entry point was south of Tombstone, Arizona approximately twenty miles southwest of the small border town of Naco. At precisely twelve-o-five the border patrol video surveillance, trip lines, and communication equipment servicing the Naco border patrol went dead along a six mile stretch of the border. One group had only to cross a barbed wire fence that served as the international border, which they drove right through. Two other sections, about three miles apart, had telephone poles lying horizontally supported about two feet above the ground by large X shaped sawhorses. That was the border fence. They took a chain, hooked it to an ATV and pulled it over, allowing easy and silent entry into Mexico. At twelve twenty the border patrol system bug was discovered and all the equipment began working as normal.

There were seven teams, fifty warriors in all. Three teams to take out the warlord’s houses, Alpha, Beta, Charlie. Three other teams, Delta, Echo and Foxtrot were to blow up the meth labs, and one team, Golf, to burn the marijuana fields. The Marshal of Tombstone, Wyatt Earp was on private business south of the border. He was responsible for Alpha, the furthest team. Beta was under the leadership of retired Marine Major Conklin and Charlie, located closer to the town of Cananea, Mexico was under the control of ex-Air Force intelligence officer Major Mike Foley. The other four teams, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot and Golf were supervised by Lieutenant Sanford out in the country. The overall command control was under Foley. All units had walkie-talkies capable of a thirty-five mile radius. Each team member was wired to each other and had an ear bud in one ear to stay in touch. The leader of each group had communications with the other six groups.

At one AM Major Foley checked with his commanders. All were in place. No one encountered hostile activity and they hadn’t been spotted. He announced, Alpha, Beta, Charlie, start moving your forwards in place. Once secure, report back. Sanford, get Delta, Echo and Foxtrot to the furthest meth labs. Keep a lookout for guards. If none, close in on your first targets. Golf, stay out of sight but get to your first field. At one forty-five all land lines and cell phone communications will be disabled. Report your status back to me by then. Over.

The night was silent and at five thousand feet the desert was a cool fifty degrees. There were a few stars out and a quarter moon, allowing them with their infrared sights to progress without the need of any other light. Mike’s target was the home of the local warlord, a two story stucco building located on three acres of land. They parked their vehicles a hundred yards before the house, off the road in an arroyo. The hacienda had a long winding driveway with a security gate out front and an eight foot fence around the property. At the side of the home, about midway back, was a gate. The advance crew inspected it and found it locked by a simple Master Lock, which they snipped off in a second. There were no trip wires and appeared to be no motion detectors. As they opened the gate, though, a large black Rottweiler silently approached. It looked at the soldiers, hunched back and sprung at them, hoping its silence would surprise its prey. They were too quick for the canine and while the dog was in mid-air shot it through the throat with a silenced pistol. It dropped dead on the ground not making a sound.

Charlie, this is forward one. We’re in. No perimeter alarms. Only a dog that was contained.

Roger that. Proceed.

Setting explosives and looking for hostiles. Out.

At one forty Mike’s earpiece came alive, Charlie, this is forward one. All in place. Storm group one, front and rear doors are armed and ready to detonate on your command. The front door has two armed guards in a room above it. The back looks clear. One side door on the east side is blocked by a trash bin. No decent egress for them through there. Over.

Mike squawked in, Storm group one, get in place. Search group one, be right behind them. Snipers, you in place?

Affirmative.

Forward one, at exactly two AM give ‘em hell.

Roger that.

A similar thing was happening at Beta. Major Conklin sent his men forward. This home was out in the country and had little reinforcements. There was a long dirt road that wound to the hacienda perched on top of a knoll. He could see no lights on in the home. As the Beta forward team approached, however, they discovered infrared motion detectors a hundred yards from the residence.

Beta, this is forward one. Got eyes. Infrared.

Any other security, Beta?

None. Just a gate with an electric opener and a six foot brick fence all around.

Can you sneak by the detectors forward one?

A long loop should do it. Waiting for my recon man to come back. Hold on a sec. Out.

About five minutes later Major Conklin was called, Beta, forward one.

Beta one.

Forward two found a nice arroyo east of the house that dips under the eyes of the detector. Should be a piece of cake. We’re moving out. Will call when in place. Over.

At one-thirty five the beta forward team had planted enough explosives to blow the second story off the hacienda. They spied a garage containing four vehicles and rigged that, as well.

The leader called Major Conklin at one forty, Send Beta storm in. Watch out for the detector. Have them drop into the arroyo. They will see my mark when to come out of it. Need to scale a six foot wall. Hold search back until I tell you. I’ll blow a hole in the wall when Beta storm is in position.

Any hostiles?

Can’t see any. Doesn’t mean they’re not here. Should be more security than this, so keep them on alert.

Roger that.

Conklin pressed the mike, You heard them. Beta storm, get in there. Beta search, follow but hold back before the fence. He’ll blow you a hole. Beta snipers, watch the fuck out. A little too quiet for my liking. Must be guards somewhere.

Beta sniper, roger that.

Conklin relayed to Mike that his people were in place.

At the Alpha compound Wyatt found a brightly lit fortress. In front of the hacienda was a large garage, or barn, if you will. It was completely surrounded by light. On each side of the barn an eight foot barbed wire fence extended a hundred feet on each side and wound back to the rear of the property. It looked like a real fortress.

They were hidden five hundred feet before the entrance in a ditch.

Wyatt hit the intercom, Alpha forward. Go look and see what the fuck?

About ten minutes later his walkie-talkie came alive, Alpha leader, Alpha forward. Looks like Fort Knox.

Aww, fuck. Talk to me.

Well, sir, the fence you see in the front extends all the way back. But that’s the bad news. The good news is that’s all it is. Not rigged. Not tripped. No dogs. Bunch of show to scare away, but really soft underbelly.

Good. Where are you?

Forward. We just cut a nice big hole for Alpha storm five hundred feet south. Send ‘em now.

Okay.

Have search six wait outside the front, by the barn. When we blow the house, we’ll blow the barn, too. We count six guards. Sir?

Yeah?

Place one sniper front and one rear.

Roger that.

Wyatt called Mike, They’re ready.

Exactly two AM.

I know.

Mike called Lieutenant Sanford, Delta-Echo, this is Charlie. Got a status?

Delta, Echo and Foxtrot are in place. I’m three miles from them. Both report no hostiles in the area. Had to drop in the ditch when a pickup drove by ten minutes ago. Think it was workers heading home from the labs. Nothin’ else out here.

Have them in position by one forty-five. At exactly two, launch your RPG’s. What about Golf?

In place at field number one. More traffic on that road. Had to hide several times. Might be some workers sleeping near the fields, too. Don’t know.

Communications will be out at one forty-five. Even if they’re out there they won’t be able to call. Try to keep casualties to a minimum.

Roger that.

Exactly two AM let loose, then move to the second field.

Ten-four.

Major Foley looked at his watch. It read 1:58. He waited forty-five seconds and called his people, On my mark, sixty seconds. Three, two, one, mark. Move in sixty.

The Charlie forward team hid behind a shed. Charlie storm team hunkered down in the arroyo while Charlie search hid behind boulders. At precisely two AM three buildings exploded leaving gaping holes in each of them.

Foley watched Charlie team storm the hacienda. The blasts had done exactly as intended and tore a hole in both the front and back of the house. Automatic gunshot fire erupted from the second story but was aimless. They had completely surprised the enemy. He saw two gunmen approach what was left of the balcony above the front door. He radioed the snipers, You got a bead on ‘em take ‘em out. He looked up, heard a small pop-pop and watched the men fall to their deaths. The search team entered the hacienda, backed up by both the forward team and storm team. They raced upstairs and invaded the master bedroom where a very frightened drug warlord crouched in his bed. Without saying a word they took him by the arms and started to escort him out of the house. He resisted, swore, and tried to get away.

The lead of the search squad pulled out a syringe and forced an instant sedative into him. He passed out. Get him out of here. Alive. He radioed Foley, Package secure. As they were leaving, the four men in the Charlie forward squad laid explosives throughout the hacienda, the garage area and at the front gate.

Everyone clear? barked Foley.

Clear.

Okay, forward one, time for the fireworks. Thirty seconds later the drug lord’s home and possessions were engulfed in a ball of fire.

All the troops reconnoitered at the SUV’s with their catch.

Foley looked at them and smiled. "Good work. No, damn good work. Anyone hurt? One man raised his hand. Yes?" he asked.

Well, sir, I was shot in the leg. Funny thing though, it hit my titanium prosthetic and ricocheted off it killing the guy who was shooting at me.

You deserve a silver star for that one. Either that or the bullshit award of the year. Everyone laughed. Seriously, you all okay? Convinced his unit was intact he told them, This never happened tonight. Head back the way you came. When you get to the border call this number. He gave the number to one of the members. "When the phone answers just say Charlie. Wait thirty seconds and cross. Take no more than two minutes to get into the US. We’ll meet later at our rendezvous for debriefing. Wait there. I think you might find some cold beer if you look around."

What about you, sir? questioned a voice.

I’m turning this thug over to the Mexicans. They’ll deal with him.

You sure they will, sir? came another voice.

I’ll give you proof of that, soldier. Now go." They disappeared into the night.

When they were gone Mike drove to a designated point outside of town and met Juan Garcia. He’s all yours.

Thanks. What about the other two?

He called Conklin at Beta, Update.

Went pretty much as planned. Place blew up nicely. I was worried about how quiet it was in there so was on the lookout. They had some fuckin’ guards, can you believe it, hiding in what looked like tree houses on each side of the hacienda. After my snipers took them out it was a piece of cake. Got one wounded, though. He’s doin’ okay and we’ll get him back across. Medic says it’s more his prosthetic getting ripped off than anything else. Just some bleeding at the stump. Kid’s alive and kicking. What about you?

Safe and sound. Just send them back. Where’s the warlord?

That pussy? We found him hiding under the kitchen sink. Biggest baby of a warlord I’ve ever seen. I’ve got him here with me in the SUV in his pajamas pretending to be brave.

How far away are you?

Ten miles or so. Why?

You need to bring him to me.

Can’t I kill him?

Mike heard Conklin cock his pistol. He shouted in the walkie-talkie, Major! A deal is a deal.

Yeah, I know. I just had a lot of fun watchin’ this brave cocksucker piss all over himself.

Okay. I’ll meet you in a few. Send the troops back. You know what to tell ‘em to get across.

Later.

He disconnected. Number two is on his way. Next he called Wyatt. Hey.

Hey. Waddya want?

Uh, Wyatt, how did things go?

Killed the bad guys, blew up the house.

What about the warlord?

Got him.

Alive?

That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?

Anyone hurt?

Nope.

Okay, send the boys home and bring the thug to me. Don’t forget to give ‘em the code.

Okay.

Half hour?

Less. Foley smiled at Juan. Number three on his way.

He punched in the code for Lieutenant Sanford. There was no answer. He tried it again. Nothing. He changed the code to Foxtrot, the meth lab team. Foxtrot, you read me? There was no answer. He tried again with no luck. He turned the frequency on his walkie-talkie. Golf, do you read me?

Loud and clear, sir.

Are you okay? What is your status?

"Mission accomplished. The napalm was so extreme."

Have you talked with your commander, Lieutenant Sanford?

Well, sir, no. We just finished with the last field and were ready to call him.

I get no answer from him or Foxtrot.

I don’t know, sir.

How far from them are you?

With this terrain, maybe ten, twenty minutes. You want us to go look for them?

I’d go myself, but I’ve got a couple of thugs to hand over. Start the search, it’ll speed things up.

No problem. Consider it done.

When Beta Commander gets here I’ll have him join you.

We’ll find him, sir.

Please, call me every five minutes, regardless.

Roger that.

While Foley waited with Juan for the other two warlords to arrive he asked him, So what’s up now, Juan?

What do you mean?

I mean with you. You’ve broken a lot of rules. You still technically report to the CIA, right?

They know nothing about tonight and it’s going to stay that way.

Juan, I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve worked with you spooks for twenty years. I know what’s happening here.

Mike, I can’t help it. For once I care about something.

That’s my exact point, my friend. In the CIA you cannot care about anything, only your mission. I know. I was there.

Shit. It’s hard.

This may be your last chance to talk with someone who knows. Your choice.

Mike, I can’t tell you how proud I am of this mission tonight.

Cut the crap.

All-right. Fuck, Mike. Gimme a smoke. The Charlie operations warlord woke up and swore at Juan. He turned and sent a blow to the side of his neck, knocking him out. Dumb fucker.

Juan lit his cigarette. Mike, they look at me as the next Pancho Villa. They want me to bring justice back to Mexico.

Can you do it?

I don’t know. That’s my problem.

Do you think it’s worth it?

Yeah, I kinda do.

Then fuckin’ go for it. Mike opened the car door and stood by the hood and looked in at Juan. He walked over to the passenger’s side. I did this covert shit for too many years. It wasn’t until I met my wife, Andy that I realized there was something bigger than my next assignment. It was love. And it’s taken until this project for me to realize besides love there is just one other thing to cherish.

What?

Freedom.

We’re losing it in America. Mexico doesn’t have it. If you can in some way help the Mexican people to be free, it’s, well--

Well, what, Mike?

Probably the greatest thing someone could do for their country. Major Mike Foley got back in his SUV.

Thanks. You are a friend. I’ll let you know my decision.

They saw headlights approach. It was Conklin who turned over his brave warlord in his piss-soaked pajamas. Mike sent him off to help find Lieutenant Sanford. Five minutes later Wyatt showed up with his prey tied like a hog to the back of his Jeep. He turned him over to Juan.

What’s next? questioned Wyatt.

Juan smiled at him. Tonight they will receive justice."

Foley said, Juan, we’d really like to be there.

That would be wrong, because you were never here.

What’s going to happen? he questioned.

They will be hung in the town square. After, they’ll be taken down and their body parts scattered around Sonora. Their heads will be on sticks so their cartel leaders will know we are serious. When that happens my friends, there could be another revolution. The people against the cartels.

Wyatt smiled. Can you send pictures?

Just watch the news.

Mike’s two-way chirped. Foley, here.

We found him. Sanford got shot. He ordered Delta, Echo and Foxtrot to return after blowing up their targets. They’re home.

And? questioned Mike.

Before he passed out he told us he was in the rear when another vehicle appeared and started shooting at him. They got him in the right arm and his vehicle flipped. They left him for dead but we found him. He’s okay, but right now he’s unconscious. I think he’ll make it. We’re dressing his wound and getting ready to tear-ass back stateside.

Good. Do you have any napalm left?

Some.

Torch the vehicle. I don’t want any evidence left behind.

Roger that.

Looks like you’ll come in by way of checkpoint two, is that right?

Affirmative.

We’ll wait for you there and cross together. At debriefing I’ll have a medic available for Lieutenant Sanford.

Thirty minutes later they met at their rendezvous point. Under the silence and darkness of night the posse members secreted themselves back into the United States of America.

* * * *

It was after three in the morning when Juan arrived in Cananea with the captured thugs. There were fifty men waiting for him. They took the three captives and brought them to the center of the main plaza. Juan quietly moved to a dark corner of the square and waited with his camera. The one church in town started tolling its bells, alerting the townspeople that something was happening in the center of the city. As had happened for over two hundred years people awoke from their sleep, dressed quickly and hastily made their way to the town square. Soon a four block area was flooded with locals. The electricity was still out, so cars were parked around the square with their headlights pointing in to the middle. The three bound men were standing in a line. Guns were pointed at them. After a time the crowd, approaching a thousand men, women and children got restless.

The mayor, sensing it was time stepped on the tiny circular bandstand and raised his hand. The crowd quieted. He was handed a microphone that was attached to a battery operated portable karaoke machine. He tapped it a few times until he was sure it was working, and then brought it to his mouth. I have a simple question. Will anyone vouch for these men? No one answered. The crowd remained quiet. After a minute he brought the microphone back to his mouth. Again, I ask, will anyone vouch for these three citizens? Silence. He turned his back to the crowd and faced the three men who were standing in a line on the side of the podium. You are being tried by your peers for crimes against humanity. Let us see about it. He turned back to the crowd. If you think these men are not guilty, please say so now. No one spoke. The women bowed their heads. The men removed their hats and stared with hatred at the three men.

After several minutes of complete silence the mayor lifted his head and uttered one word, Guilty. The plaza erupted in shouts and jeers. After the clamor subsided, the mayor pronounced to the three men, You have heard the answer of your peers. You are to be hung by the neck until dead. He waived to a group waiting next to the bandstand and walked off the stage.

Nooses were strung over the men’s necks. They were dragged to a spot in the middle of the plaza where a large tree branch was used to support the ropes hanging loosely from the men. They threw the ropes over the branch. Other men retrieved the ropes and tied them to a SUV. Once the ropes were secured to the vehicle it moved forward, forcing the men to walk backwards until they were directly under the branch. Nooses tightened around their necks. It looked like a scene from an old oater, their hands tied behind their backs, ropes taut around their necks forcing them to fight for air and an angry crowd in front of them demanding justice.

A lady from the crowd walked up to the first man and spat in his face. You were drunk and shot my son while he was playing in the street. You didn’t even try to help him. Another man emerged and stood in front of the three. Let’s see how brave you are now. He pulled out a machete and raised it over his head. Instead of bringing it down on the man, he grabbed his belt and cut it, causing the man’s pants to fall to the ground. He pulled the machete over his head again and in one clean movement tore the man’s shirt off. The crowd jeered and made obscene motions to the naked warlord. He moved to the next man and did the same. When he finished all three men were standing naked, hands bound behind them with nooses around their necks. The rope around each man was tight enough that if any man passed out or fell, it would hang him.

The warlord on the far right wasn’t taking public mockery very well and started cursing the crowd. A middle aged lady walked up to him. He spit at her. You think this is funny? The crowd got quiet. She cried so all could hear, I used to take care of your chickens, you remember? Look here, in the cage. See my favorite rooster? she said pointing to it. My ten year old Juanita, you remember her? You raped her in the back of the chicken coop and forced me to watch you do it. The man cast a sneer and spit at her again. She walked on stage, put the chicken cage down next to her and then pulled a filet knife from her apron. She reached down and took hold of the mushroom of his cock. This is for my Juanita, she said, and in an instant sliced off the head of his penis. The man screamed and almost passed out from the pain. Between screams he watched as she held the severed part of his member in the air and waived it at the crowd. I will put this to good use. All watched in shock as she opened the rooster’s cage and threw it in. She held the cage close to the warlord’s face. He watched in horror as the rooster took to this special morsel and began to peck and eat it.

Another man from the crowd walked up to the warlord in the center. He pointed across the street. Do you remember my butcher shop across the plaza? The obese warlord nodded. My son and daughter-in-law quartered your beef for you. Do you remember? It was last year. The man nodded. You accused them of cheating, of keeping some of your meat, so you threw a fire bomb into my store. They were inside. You killed them. He pulled out his butcher’s knife and expertly sliced through is fat and into his stomach. The man’s intestines began to protrude from the incision. He reached in and pulled out a portion of his intestines. When he had about a foot’s length he sliced them. They looked like red, raw sausage. He took the man by the hair, forced his head back and then stuffed the handful of intestines into the warlord’s mouth. You once told me you loved menudo. He walked off the stage.

The warlord on the left watched in horror as his comrades were being