Book 2 Chapter 102


The next week went, just went fast. One more week and the first wing of the prison would able to house prisoners minus some of the luxuries of life. At least they would be out of the barbed wire and mud. The first wing – A wing – was one hundred and fifty cells.

The Matamoros utility crews would have the water and sewer hooked up by then. The sewage pumping station was sitting on a trailer waiting for them to place it. The power from the state-run power system would be hooked in a couple days.

The march on the pipeline from Tampico to Puerto Vallarta was going slower than expected. The terrain was rougher and there were the most taps we had seen in a couple sections. On top of that, the natives were restless and fighting back on losing their free gas and oil. The morgues on the way were kept busy.

As if all that was not bad enough, several newscasters died when they came running out of the brush with cameras – unannounced – to get their big story. They ended up being the story.

It was not that my men were trigger happy but after being shot at several times, they were taking no chances.

Friday I was on Air Force 2 filling in for the Vice President again, this time to Japan for a summit. This time it was just me with an assistant from the State Department and a note book of the past summits and agreements for my reading pleasure. The Secret Service VP security detail was assigned to me for any trips replacing the VP.

There was a second notebook of Japanese customs, traditions and the no-no’s of the diplomatic mission. I didn’t need the notebook; I had a part in this movie more than fifteen years ago.

I went to see the Vice President for anything I should know about the meeting before I left for Andrews. He did not look well. I knew in my mind that he was not going to finish his term with the President.

The President would have a major decision to make, political, for himself, the party and for the sake of the country. Vice President Mason had been a unifier able to negotiate across party lines, respected by both houses and worked with the President on the best policies to any problem.

I felt sorry for his wife; a decade younger, strong and beautiful. She knew when to be quiet and when to be forceful in any crowd. She was as respected as he was. Behind the scenes she had a distaste for politics but in public she was rock solid. They had two girls, both in the medical profession; one a brain surgeon, the other a cancer specialist.

It was one long flight from DC to Tokyo. The two day meeting was a welcome relief between arriving and returning home.

Landing at Andrews on Tuesday afternoon the girls with JJ and RJ were waiting with the G5. Traffic had been stalled on RT50 since Monday morning. A double tractor trailer accident with one of the trucks hanging off the high middle span had the east-west span closed, including the shipping channel below.

The west-east span had two head on accidents within seconds from impatient drivers, both with massive numbers of deaths. The highway would be closed until the accident investigations completed. It takes many hours when deaths are involved, bridge or not.

Those on the shore were left with few options. One was to drive 301 south to Virginia Beach and across the Bay Bridge tunnel – a very long way around, depending on where one was going on the shore.

The other was to drive to Baltimore then to Elkton and then RT301/896, the shortest route. That route was now jammed and stopped with accidents of its own. Three JBG Blackhawks were pressed into service to carry critical patients to the western shore hospitals.

My mates short circuited the mess with the G5; it was a thirty minute flight to Morton. I had been concerned that my mates would be upset with me filling in for the Vice President, spending so much time away and not helping with the business.

I was wrong, I had to tell them about all the people in the pictures and explain everything that was served with the five star meals that the world’s taxpayers furnished. I also explained the sights that I had seen behind closed doors.

Next Thursday was the UN – Iran fiasco. I had a plan in my head, I just needed people to carry it out and I had ones I could trust.

On Wednesday Andy and I flew to Brownsville to meet with the four men in charge of the Mexican operation. Over all it was going well- better than I hoped. The next stop was the Matador maximum security prison.

The first wing was complete with water, lighting and painting. I hated the smell of the epoxy paint that had been used. The floors was speckled epoxy paint that most fire department used; it was tough as nails. The kitchen and laundry were done with massive commercial machines like hotels used. The propane tanks were filled.

The courtroom was done, ready for the tribunal that was going to handle court functions. The crematorium was waiting on the furnace to be delivered, the gas already piped over. The gallows was going to be the last thing built before the construction crews left to build the prison on the other end of the security zone.

Andy and I chose the warden for the prison. Denton Crabtree was hard-nosed and unforgiving. He would follow orders to the letter. His only son was killed in a drug gang war shootout in San Fernando. He was guilty of sitting at a traffic light waiting for it to turn green and was caught in the crossfire.

He would have one hundred men to start and more as the prison filled. For the time being, sleeping buses would be used until portable housing could be brought in.

My men were going to do the laundry and cooking. There was no way any inmates were going to be given the slightest opportunity to get anything that could be used as a weapon.

On the trip Louis called again about the prisoners being held from the raid in France. The French judicial system was going to rule on the Pack agreement and legality of holding the accused under Pack agreement in three weeks. The judge was leaning to legal access for them.

”Louis, take a deep breath and relax, then get out your checkbook. I have a solution and it will take all of it off your hands in two weeks. In the meantime get all the evidence against each of them packaged and ready for travel,” I said.

I called Denton and ordered a change immediately. All the bed frames were to be changed out in B wing to double bunk. Fifty of the bed frames in A wing were to be changed to double bunks.

That change would accommodate all the French prisoners. The next call was to Lorrie to schedule the 747-400 to France to pick the prisoners up and take them to Brownsville International. From there they would be transported to Matador prison where the tribunal would go to work. The pact may have had no intestinal fortitude to march forward, but I did.

On Friday morning I flew to Brazil, replacing Vice President Mason again. I was home early Monday morning.

On Monday Iran finally submitted the list of people coming to the UN to yell and scream about me. The supreme leader, the President of Iran and General Bashir were named, along with several other political flunkies.

It was the list I was looking for. After looking at the Google maps of the streets and parks around the UN building, I put my plan together. I then called Paul Drake into my office and explained it with the what, who and the how and a partial why. Paul sent ten men and Suburbans to NYC to look and check out the park, its location and distance from the UN building and access to the park.

On Tuesday I was back on Air Force 2 for a two day trip. I would be back Thursday morning early in time to fly to NY myself.

The meetings in Honduras touched on a lot of things including the new Americas drug enforcement organization I had proposed. Progress was being made ever so slowly.

I landed at Andrews at 2200 Wednesday night. A partial night’s sleep in my own bed with Ching Lee was rewarding.

At 0700 I was boarding one G5 while the five Iranians were hustled in handcuffs onto another G5 for the trip to New York.

With the two planes sitting side by side at JFK International on the general aviation tarmac, the prisoners were transferred to three Suburbans and escorted by two more.

I headed to the UN building and they were to wait in the three Suburbans close to central park. If it fell flat they were to be returned to the plane.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

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4 Responses to Book 2 Chapter 102

  1. Joe h says:

    Fantastic as always.
    Happy holidays to all.

  2. Bil Cook says:

    Happy Holidays…..please tell me you are not pulling a Clancy and going to have BJ nominated for VP

    • jackballs57 says:

      The pain will only last a few chapters and then the doctor will cure it. It’s getting there that is the issue and the fire that follows.

    • jackballs57 says:

      I met Tom Clancy years ago at the Naval Academy. I live only thirty miles from there. He was signing books At the Naval Institute Book store. I have a signed copy of The Hunt for Red October. Heck of a man.

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