Remember The Alamo (34 page)

"They're waiting for the United Nations to weigh in on the
situation," Mahone said. He was sitting on the floor with
his back against the wall. Stark was beside him, and Dave
hunkered nearby on his heels. Phil had pulled a chair up
close to the window, and as he sat there with the chair reversed, straddling it, Evelyn stood behind him, her hands
gently rubbing his shoulders.

They had been keeping up with what was going on by
means of the wireless Internet connection on Billy Romo's
cell phone. They should have made sure they had a few laptops in here for that very purpose, Dave thought, but it hadn't
occurred to anybody. He supposed that was understandable.
They were just everyday guys; they had never had to plan a
military occupation of a historic landmark before. He
thought that under the circumstances they had done fairly
well with their preparations.

"What do you think the United Nations will do?" Dave
asked.

"Talk about it," Mahone replied. "And probably find some
way to blame the United States for everything."

Phil grunted. "What else does the U.N. ever do?"

"Maybe they'll send in some peacekeeping troops,"
Evelyn suggested. "Make the Mexicans go home until this
can all be negotiated."

Stark shook his head. "The Mexicans won't go home.
They know they've only got a limited amount of time to get
in here and deal with us. Come Monday, the Alamo reverts
to American control."

"Then they'll just insist that the American military arrest
us and turn us over to them," Dave said.

Mahone shook his head. "Unlikely to ever happen. We've
seen the groundswell of support for us on the Internet in the
past twenty-four hours. Give that a few days to build even
more, and not even the president will be able to ignore it."

"She's still claiming that video showing the Reconquistadores gunning down innocent people is a fake," Dave pointed
out. "I don't trust her."

"I know the lady," Mahone said, "and there's only one
thing about her you can trust: She'll do whatever she thinks
is necessary to hang on to power. There's an election coming
up in less than two years. She wants to be reelected. Nothing
she does will damage her standing with the far left; she's like
a goddess to them and always has been. But the things that
have been going on here have already damaged her chances
with the moderates and independents. She needs them to put
her back in office, so she can turn her back on them again
like she did before"

"So," Phil said, "do we surrender to the American forces
out there if we make it through until Monday, or do we try to
wait them out in here even longer?"

None of the others had an answer for him. They didn't know what the next few days would bring-or if they would
even survive to see one more day.

The eyes of the world were trained on New York City that
Saturday afternoon in March. The Security Council had met
in emergency session that morning, and now Presidente
Guzman of Mexico would address the General Assembly.
The place was buzzing. What could Guzman say that hadn't
already been said? The United States had agreed to the idea
of giving the Alamo back to Mexico in the first place, and
the American government had allowed the Mexican military
to carry out their operations-so far unsuccessfully-there
in San Antonio. What else could the Mexicans want?

Once Guzman began speaking, the delegates didn't have
to wait long to find out.

After the usual flowery, long-winded opening, the president got down to business. "I have requested that the
Supreme Court of my country examine with the greatest care
the treaty between the United States and Mexico ceding control of the mission known as the Alamo to Mexico. The justices have done so, and have just issued their ruling regarding
the legality of this document"

No one had called the legality of the treaty into question,
so Guzman's comments were puzzling. Even the United
States government had agreed that the treaty was valid and
had agreed to abide by it, even though doing so was undoubtedly a bitter pill for the country's leaders and its citizens alike.
The general public, especially, was upset about everything
that had happened, and the sight of Mexican troops operating
on American soil was particularly galling to many of them.

Guzman took a drink of water, allowing the translators to
catch up with his remarks in the earphones of the delegates. He was speaking English-out of respect for his hosts, he
said but many of the delegates did not.

"The Supreme Court of Mexico," Guzman continued,
"has found that the Alamo treaty, as we have come to call it,
is valid in one respect, but not in the other."

Around the world, the people watching the live feed from
the United Nations said the equivalent of What the hell?-in
their own languages, of course.

"It was within the power of the United States to relinquish
sovereignty to the parcel of land in question," Guzman continued. "However, once this control was relinquished, all
rights to this property devolve in their entirety to Mexico,
and their disposal is solely at the discretion of the duly
elected government of Mexico, regardless of what may or
may not be stated in the Alamo treaty."

In Washington, the president of the United States stared at
the television screen and whispered, "He wouldn't. Oh, dear
Lord, he can't mean ... he can't be about to say .. ."

She wished she had gone to New York so she could be
there, but she realized with a terrible sinking feeling that it
wouldn't have done any good.

"Therefore, in the judgment of the court," Guzman continued, "the government of Mexico has the right to set aside
the provision in the treaty returning possession of the Alamo
and the adjacent ground to the United States, and in the interests of our national security, and in order to bring the situation in San Antonio to a speedy, successful resolution, we
are hereby announcing to this august body, and to the world,
our intentions of doing so. The Alamo, and the area known
as Alamo Plaza, will remain under the control of Mexico
until further notice, in accordance with our laws and the legal
ruling from our Supreme Court. Gracias, mi amigos."

And in the building in question, as the defenders huddled
around the cell phone and watched the tiny, unsteady picture
on its screen and listened to the tinny audio, their amazement
and horror grew until Phil burst out, "Is he saying-"

"I'm afraid so," Mahone broke in. "He's saying that they
have the Alamo ... and they ain't gonna give it back"

The vote on the resolution in the United Nations went as
expected. With most of the members of the Security Council eager to embarrass the United States as often and as much
as possible, the resolution supporting the decision of the
Mexican Supreme Court passed overwhelmingly, despite the
protests of the American ambassador to the U.N. In the end,
the U.S. backed down.

Worldwide reaction was immediate. Government representatives across Europe, Asia, and the Middle East urged
the United States to abide by the rule of law and not attempt
to regain control of the Alamo. In Latin America, all the way
from Mexico to Tierra del Fuego, people celebrated in the
streets. The hated gringos had been brought to their knees.

And this was only the first step. With the legal precedent
established, efforts could begin to reclaim more of the territory that Mexico had lost to the Americans over the past
couple of hundred years.

By nightfall on Saturday, the president had consulted
dozens of her advisors, but none of them could offer a workable solution to the problem. The chairman of the Joint
Chiefs of Staff had assured her that the American military in San Antonio could round up General Salgado's forces, put
them on airplanes, and send them back to Mexico in a matter
of hours, if that was what she wanted done.

But the president had never had anything but disdain for
military solutions. She snapped, "That would make us look
bad in the eyes of the world."

The chairman just looked at her, carefully keeping his own
expression blank. It was beyond his understanding how anybody could worry about such a thing when foreign troops
were on American soil, trying to kill Americans. If it was
up to him ...

But it wasn't, of course. The president was still the commander in chief.

Late that night, alone in the residence wing of the White
House, the president's husband said to her, "It looks to me
like you don't have any choice but to go along with them."

"But half the country will see that as backing down," she
protested.

"Yeah, but half of it will see it as trying to get along with
our good neighbor to the south. You know how your base
feels. If America does anything other than exactly what the
rest of the world wants, we're just being evil imperialist
warmongers "

"That's the truth," the president snapped. "Don't be so
damned cynical."

"You were always more of a true believer than I was,"
he said.

She glared at him, but didn't say anything.

After a moment he went on. "The best thing you can do
now is issue a statement saying that you'll abide by the decision of the Mexican Supreme Court and the resolution
passed by the United Nations, at least while negotiations are
going on with the terrorists occupying the Alamo."

"There aren't any negotiations going on," the president pointed out. "Those bastards in there won't answer the phone
or communicate in any other way."

"Yeah, but you can make it sound like progress is being
made. As long as the voters think you're doing something, it
doesn't matter whether you really are or not"

She thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "You
really know how those people think, don't you?"

He grinned. "Hell, I'm a common man myself."

"Very common"

He chuckled, not taking offense. They were long past anything like actual affection in their marriage, so neither of
them ever worried about hurting the other's feelings.

"There's one other thing you can do," he said.

"What?"

"Order the military there in San Antonio to work with
General Salgado."

"They're already under orders to assist him."

"No, you've got to be more proactive than that. Offer to
have our troops go in and get those old boys out of there. In
conjunction with the Mexicans, maybe, but we need to be
part of it."

She stared at him. "You're kidding. American troops going
into battle against fellow Americans?"

"Against terrorists. Keep using that word. The other side
used it against us all those years, accused us of bein' soft on
terrorism. Now's your chance to show that we're not"

"Those were Islamic terrorists they were talking about"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Say the word often
enough, loud enough, and pretty soon that's all they'll hear."

She thought about it again and began to nod her head. "All
right. The Mexicans may turn down our assistance, though"

He shrugged and said, "Doesn't matter. You'll have made
the offer. Appearances are the only thing that really count. You ought to know that by now. Hell, they got you elected,
didn't they?"

She might have snapped at him for that, but before she
could say anything a soft knock sounded on the door. She
turned toward it and said, "Come in," knowing that no one
would interrupt them here unless it was about something important.

Her chief of staff opened the door and said, "I'm sorry to
bother you, ma'am, but I just received a report about the
people in the Alamo-"

"The terrorists, you mean?" Might as well get used to
saying it, she thought.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, what is it?"

The chief of staff swallowed. "They're blogging, ma'am."

Dave was starting to worry about Phil. They were all tired,
of course, because nobody had gotten much sleep in the past
forty-eight hours other than short catnaps, but Phil looked
even more exhausted than the others, and he had developed
a fever on top of it.

Doc Stone had checked him out, then reported to Dave,
"He's developed an infection of some sort. The bullet wound
itself doesn't look too bad, so there must be some sort of internal problem."

"You can give him something for it, though, can't you?"
Dave asked.

Doc shrugged. "I've already got him on broad-spectrum
antibiotics. He really needs to be in a hospital, though, so we
can keep his fluids up and run some more tests. Might have
to open him up to really find out what's going on"

"Well, you can't do that in here"

"No, I can't," Stone agreed. "All we can handle in here is rudimentary first aid. If Phil's not better by tomorrow morning, I'd suggest finding a way to get him out of here"

That wouldn't be a problem, Dave thought. Evelyn could
help Phil out the front door and across the plaza, where they
could surrender and seek medical help for Phil.