Chapter 4: A Bad Day Gets Worse

An Office in the West Wing of the White House, Wash. D.C.

1655 Hours (4:55 PM) EDT (Eastern Daylight Time) Tuesday March 20^th 2018

Lieutenant Colonel Wojciechowski, USMC, was at his computer, preparing to forward his schedule for tomorrow to his boss. He had completed, and disseminated his analysis of various reports about what various agencies of the US government believed was occurring in central Mexico. He emphasized that no one credible believed it was possible to maintain an information blackout indefinitely; in fact, sites on the internet, ham radio, and other venues, rumors and information was propagating. Further attempts to suppress such activities would likely result in undesirable responses. Consensus was that attempts by various government entities to discretely request major media sources to avoid or downplay the situation would almost certainly have the opposite effect. It is recommended that government agencies, when asked by members of the media, should state we have no credible sources at this time.

LTC Wojciechowski had just sent out the digital memo, when there was a knock at the door. Glancing around to ensure there was nothing classified in plain sight, he then opened the door. Mr. Adams, a special assistant to the National Security Advisor entered. Mr. Adams was a young man for his duties, barely into his thirties, but he appeared to be at least ten years older, with prematurely graying hair, that was also thinning. He was tall, but his shoulders seemed permanently hunched, his sallow complexion and hollow cheeks gave him a cadaverous appearance. He had not been hired by the NSA for his appearance, but for his sharp mind, and willingness to offer practical options, and to not share those opinions with outsiders; especially in the media.

“Where are the others?” Mr. Adams asked.

“Both the Iran and China working groups will be burning the midnight oil again tonight.” Wojciechowski replied.

“Good. Well, not really. What I mean is, it is convenient we are alone.” Mr. Adams said.

“Why?”

“It’s the situation in Mexico. Its spiraling out of control. I reviewed the materials you brought back this afternoon. Despite their efforts, they are missing stuff. The source of this crisis is in, or near to the Barranca del Cobre, in the Sierra Madre Occidental; it’s the Mexican Grand Canyon, and they have been aggressively expanding tourism in the area. Those tourists are recording, and uploading to the internet pictures and videos. Some of them have returned home, here, Canada, Europe, and a few even to Japan, China, and elsewhere, and some of them are disseminating what they have witnessed. Worse, there are some wealthy, well-connected individuals who are, or were down there; or have family members who have gone missing. They are contacting their Congress Critters, Members of Parliament, whatever.” Mr. Adams said.

“You were almost at my door, when I sent this.” LTC Wojciechowski said, as he gestured to Mr. Adams, to read his memo.

Nodding as he glanced at the memo, Mr. Adams said, “If that’s not bad enough, some individuals assigned to NORAD have been investigating, and they have struck Pay Dirt.”

“What did they discover?” LTC Wojciechowski asked.

“Quite a bit. Several of them were in the Bunker when a Portal opened from a point, or points unknown, to our world. Many people have commented upon a spectacle similar to the Aroura Borealis, very few know that there was an initial thermal signature in excess of three megatons; several of these individuals apparently witnessed the event. For some reason they started digging, they discovered one of the best videos, it’s of an attack upon a compound of some Mexican magnate. High quality images of the invaders, including several varieties of humanoids. It kept transmitting for many hours after the attack. Later they were able to communicate with some people involved with the several U-2 flights we have ordered over the area. According to my source, these amateurs are as informed as just about anyone Read-In to this situation.” Mr. Adams said.

“Damn It. Too few people take security clearances seriously! Where are they being detained.” LTC Wojciechowski said.

“None of them are in custody. A couple of them are facing Non-Judicial Punishment. Actually, none of them have violated any significant regulations, as far as I know. Nor, for the most part, do their superiors know what they have been doing. As far as I can determine, they have been using open sources, other than what they observed in the course of their duties. Their Chains of Command are not aware, yet, of the big picture, so they did not forbid them to investigate what the higher-ups did not know was going on. We used the U-2s, to prevent re-tasking any satellites. I should also mention that we have been using un-legal means to monitor these individuals.” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski asked, “Why tell me this?”

“I want you to coordinate getting them Read-On to this project.” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski asked, “What Project?”

“Barbari ad Portis.” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski said, “I’ve never heard of such a program. It’s not military. Barbarians at the Gates? Who is in charge of it?”

“You are. As of now. The Boss signed off on my proposal about fifteen minutes ago.” Mr. Adams said.

“Why me?”

“You are capable. You are available.” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski asked, “What is the objective of Operation Barbari ad Portis?”

“Monitor the situation in Mexico. Gather data on the invaders, numbers, intent, technology, everything, at least as much as possible with limited assets. As far as practicable, collate the data and offer assessments on potential threats, and possible responses.” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski said. “Assets?”

“Up to four MQ-9 ‘Reaper’ or similar UAVs, one, possibly two Ground Control Stations, as well as a simulator for training, and an ad-hoc collection of personnel to conduct austere operations. Notionally, you will be a training detachment from JSOC, based at MacDill Airforce Base in Florida. However, you will be located at Cannon Airforce Base, where you will be a priority for maintenance and logistics support from the 27^th Special Operations Wing, that is based there. Temporary quarters, and a SCIF will be provided, the details are on this thumb drive.” Mr. Adams said, handing him a thumb drive marked Top Secret.

LTC Wojciechowski said, “Personnel are all from JSOC? Who is in charge? You mentioned analysis, where will Military or Naval Intelligence personnel who might be inclined to consider the unusual circumstances be assigned from?”

“I must not have been clear. You will be in charge Colonel Wojciechowski. Your cover is that we are considering forming joint service units of unmanned aerial vehicles, to be integrated with forward deployed special operations units. JSOC and USSOCOM will be receiving minimal information, but they are used to various entities being placed under their umbrella. If anyone in the Air Force is uncooperative, you will have a direct line to the Vice Chief of Staff of the Air Force. I have included the personnel files on a couple of dozen individuals I believe will be useful. You may request individuals for TDY assignment to your command, I will do what I can, however, for now, you will have a tight budget, and are unlikely to get assigned anyone who is deployed, or scheduled to be deployed. Just so you know, I have selected most of the personnel so far from individuals on somebody’s shit list.” Mr. Adams said.

Wojciechowski said, “I see. Well, I have three individuals I am sure I will need. First, Major Edgar Martinez, formerly 7^th Special Forces Group, currently at MacDill, having concluded prolonged physical therapy after being severely wounded in Afghanistan; I want him promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, he was unfairly kept in limbo by a retention board. Second is Gunnery Sergeant Miles McLaughlin, I want him promoted to Master Gunnery Sergeant, because he should have been holding that rank already, and I require a senior NCO I can depend upon. Third, I want Lieutenant Akira Ellis, US Naval Intelligence, he is ... unconventional.”

“Don’t you want Lieutenant Ellis promoted too?” Mr. Adams asked with a straight face.

LTC Wojciechowski said, “Sure. He is unlikely to get promoted without something like this. I also want two ODAs, preferably from either the 7^th Special Forces Group, or from the National Guard’s 20^th Special Forces Group. Each ODA should consist of entirely, or at least mostly of Hispanics, preferably with current knowledge of Mexico. Primarily we will need practical knowledge about our area of operations, to include insights about the people of Mexico. They will also advise us on what sort of information will be most useful to the Mexicans, when we decide to begin sharing with them. I want to integrate them early, because I believe that if we provide any direct support to the Mexican armed forces, it will be airpower, that is most effective of we have boots-on-the-ground lazing targets, and making BDAs. Lastly, it is likely that we will want liaisons to the Mexican armed forces, outside of the DEA, we don’t have many people prepared for such duties.”

“I don’t know about the Operational Detachment Alphas, however, its clever of you to consider the 20^th Special Forces Group, they deploy both detachments, and individual augmentees to Afghanistan, South and Central America, and elsewhere. Perhaps, I could more easily get you twenty four, to thirty individuals of Mexican heritage from throughout USSOCOM, including some recovering from wounds or injuries, and you could put together your own ad-hoc teams?” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski replied, “Make it forty individuals of Mexican heritage from throughout USSOCOM, not all have to be ‘Operators’ but I will need enough skill sets to create two viable A-Teams.”

“I’ll see what we can do. I think your projections are cogent. It also makes sense to integrate capabilities, rather than several uncoordinated schemes. Expect them to trickle in, rather than for them to arrive as complete teams. That means they will be lacking most of the equipment typical of an ODA. Send me a proposal of what equipment you think you will need.” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski said, “I have some ideas already, and can have a tentative list for you in a couple of hours. I will expand on it after I see what the situation is in New Mexico, and consult with various subject matter experts.”

“Hold off on any requests until you get to New Mexico. I want you to get a good night of sleep. You need to be aboard a C-37B departing Joint Base Andrews at 5:30 AM to catch a flight to Buckley Air Force Base. You will be driving from there, to meet some of your new personnel. Various intelligence and material assets will be available to you there.” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski inquired, “What assets? Why drive?”

“It’s in your briefing on the thumb drive. Make sure someone waters your plants, and feeds your goldfish.” Mr. Adams said.

LTC Wojciechowski laughed, then said, “You know I have neither. So, I figure I won’t see you for quite a while.”

“Good Luck, and God Speed,” Mr. Adams said, then shook Wojciechowski’s hand, then departed from the office.

Hospital Angeles, Cuauhtémoc, Chihuahua state

4:00 P.M. ZPT (MST) Tuesday March 20^th 2018 (dialogue spoken in Spanish, but written in English; some Spanish in italics)

Plumes of smoke rose from a dozen locations within several blocks of the Hospital Angeles. The Emergency Room was chaos, people were screaming crying, begging, mostly ignored by the few frantic nurses and other medical workers. Several obvious dead bodies were stacked in a corner, partially covered with a filthy tarp. Policia Sargento Primero Nunez had to aim a pistol at an administrator to get his most serious wounded men priority medical treatment. Despite their best efforts, their most seriously wounded man died before he got to the Operating Room.

At least they were able to get some clean bandages to change the dressings on some of the wounded. There were no pain killers, or other medicine available. The pharmacy, and other locations in the hospital had been repeatedly looted by gang members, and by desperate citizens. There were no guards, they had all been killed, or fled. Members of the hospital staff, patients, and their loved ones had been robbed, assaulted, and a few had been raped. There were no beds available; there were not enough care givers or volunteers to care for the patients in the wards. The morgue was overflowing. The Federales took the body of their comrade with them, otherwise he would probably be left to rot.

They drove to the local headquarters and communications facility for the Federales; collocated with the city police station. On the way, it was obvious no businesses were open, many of them had been looted. When people noticed the Police trucks, most of them scattered, or tried to duck out of sight. Nearly all of the stationary vehicles had broken windows, and appeared to have been looted. The few moving vehicles they saw had well-armed occupants, most of whom glared at the Federales. Even the Police Station had been attacked, apparently overrun, looted, and burned. Now the ruins smoldered, a dog was tearing flesh from a dead body lying in the gutter. At least now they knew why no one was responding to their radio calls.

On their way north to Cuauhtémoc they had passed a growing stream of refugees heading to the city. On the outskirts they had seen encampments, or clumps of exhausted people huddled just off the road. At a couple of churches, they had seen soup kitchens ministering to the hungry. However, the closer they got to the center of the city the more things resembled a Mad Max movie. They departed the Police Station, and drove to Federal Route 16 East, headed towards the city of Chihuahua. The highway was clogged with a stream of refugees. There was also a trickle of refugees headed west on the opposite side of the freeway.

There were hundreds of vehicles, some horse drawn in the nearly stationary traffic jam. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of people were trudging east slightly faster than the vehicles. The pedestrians walked along both sides of the freeway, and had encroached onto the lanes of the highway as well. No one seemed to know why traffic was so slow. Dozens of vehicles had been abandoned, some were left sitting on the freeway; all of them had been looted. Growing impatient, Sargento Nunez ordered the driver of the lead vehicle to cut over to the westbound lanes of the freeway.