There have always been corrupt politicians in any government, but the drug cartels have brought corruption to a new level with both vast amounts of money and also with the real threat of murder.
The result in any area they control is an extremely high murder rate. The local police force will investigate and sometimes the investigation will turn up a body or two, but that's where the actual investigation stops. The local police may keep the case on their desk and they may keep talking to people, but that's just an act designed to make people think they are actively seeking the killer or killers. In reality, the cartel has paid or threatened someone in the local police department not to find the killers.
Occasionally, some low level cartel member is arrested, tried, convicted, and sent to prison. Normally this is because a rival cartel paid to have this done in order to send a message. That cartel member will then become part of the second way the cartels have control. Cartel members control the prisons in any area where they likewise control the local government.
What this means is the prison guards do what the controlling cartel tells them to do. If you belong to the controlling cartel, your life in prison will be not all that much different from life on the outside. You'll have good food, color TV, and about anything else you want to include alcohol, drugs, and women. If you're high enough in the cartel organization, you can even leave the prison to conduct business during the day and then return to the safety of your cell for the evening.
If you're in the wrong cartel, your life in prison will either be that of a slave or you'll be killed. If you're a woman and end up in such a prison, you probably won't be killed, but you'll wish for that to happen. In these prisons, female inmates are often housed with male inmates and women are expected to do all the work for the men. That includes certain services only a woman can provide, and rapes and pregnant female inmates are common. So are the children of these women as they stay with their mothers after they are born. When the child reaches the age of six, they're taken from their mothers and placed in privately owned shelters.
That's why I was beside a highway about a kilometer from one of these prisons. I was waiting on the police car that was transporting Valeria Rosales to the prison. My intent was to capture her from the police and to take her from there to the United States. The reason was the men in police uniforms were, in actuality, cartel members posing as police. They were sort of guarding her until she was safely in the prison they controlled. It isn't unusual for someone sentenced to prison to simply disappear on the way.
When I took Valeria back, I wasn't going to cross the border at any formal checkpoint. That would have been impossible because she wouldn't have any identification, let alone a US Passport. I was going to play coyote and slip her across. No one except me would ever know how she'd escaped and where she went.
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It's a story that I only knew part of and what I did know wasn't much. Suffice it to say that I received a file containing all the information as a download from "the cloud" and was the backup info for my assignment. It was there when I signed on at 10:00 one night. That's how I got all my assignments although given how I ended up in this situation, I'm not sure the "cloud" with my assignments is the same cloud everyone is currently engaged in using as their long term data storage.
As for why I was trying to rescue Valeria, it is my assumption the DEA wanted her for what she knew. I didn't really know the real reason because I never get a reason for my assignments. This assignment just had the instructions to remove Valeria from police custody before she reached the prison and to transport her to a certain location in Brownsville, Texas. Once she was there, I was to text a phone number with the words, "The roses are beautiful". As with all my past assignments, the statement "by any means necessary" was part of the instructions for the assignment.
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By now, you're assuming I work for the CIA or some other alphabet organization in the US government, but you'd be wrong. My organization does not have an acronym. In fact, my organization doesn't exist in any official or unofficial written records as far as I can tell because it's not part of the US government.
I have met only one other person who I assume was part of my organization, but I'm not even sure about that. It happened when I was still a member of the US Fifth Special Forces at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. My Captain had orders for me to report to a location on one of the firing ranges at such and such a time on such and such a date. I was to dress in civilian clothes and I would be driven to that location by a driver who would meet me at the museum on post. My Captain didn't understand the order and neither did I, but like he said, orders are orders.
The driver arrived in a black Ford SUV with blacked out windows and Arizona plates but he didn't get out. He just stopped and the right rear door opened by itself. When I got inside the SUV, there was a partition between the rear seat and the front seat, so I couldn't see the driver. The door then closed by itself and the SUV began moving.
When I got to the firing range, there was one other vehicle there, another black Ford SUV with blacked out windows and Ohio license plates. As soon as I stepped out of my vehicle, my driver drove away and left me standing there by myself. When that SUV turned onto the road back to the main base, the door of the other SUV opened and a man got out. He smiled as he approached me, and when he was close enough, he offered me his hand.
"Good afternoon, Staff Sergeant Wilson. You probably have a lot of questions for me, questions I unfortunately can't answer completely. I can answer your first question though. The reason for this meeting is I am going to offer you a job.
"Your military history as well as your history before you entered the military are what caused us to select you. We believe you would be a great asset to our organization and to your country should you accept my proposal.
"If you decline, there will be no repercussions. You will simply continue in the role you now play until you decide what to do with the rest of your life. Are you willing to continue our conversation?"
Well, I'd been seriously thinking about getting out of the military. I liked the challenge of Special Forces, but after several tours in war zones, I was ready to take a rest. That's what I told the man, but he waved his hand.
"Our organization is rather unique in that it is not a part of the US Government. We are an organization that contracts for certain tasks that can't be accomplished by official departments employing normal means.
"Our organization does not deploy our members to battle zones. The US military has those places well under control. Our missions are, shall we say, of a less publicized nature in locations that the US does not want to admit to having a presence of any kind. You will work alone, so the only person you will have to depend upon is yourself. Our information about you indicates you would do well in such a situation."
He hadn't told me enough that I was ready to say I'd be interested, but he had told me enough that I was intrigued. I asked him what kind of missions I'd be involved in, and he shook his head.
"I can't tell you that, Staff Sergeant Wilson, because I don't yet know to which missions you will be assigned. All I can tell you is you'll be doing your country a service no other organization can provide and that each mission will be rewarding in its own right. Of course there are other rewards as well. Your salary would be a hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year, and our organization will provide you with anything and everything you need when executing a mission."
I admit that the money influenced my decision. I'd done some checking about pay in the private sector, and the best I could probably do was a third of what the man was offering. In reality, I'd probably have to settle for a fourth and then work my way up to a third. If this guy wanted somebody with Special Forces skills, it probably wouldn't be any worse than staying in the Army. It would just pay a lot better.
I asked the man how long I'd have to sign up for and he smiled.
"There is no written contract involved Staff Sergeant Wilson, only the oral agreement I hope to make with you today. If you agree to join our organization you do so of your own free will and are free to leave at any time, just as our organization is free to terminate your employment at any time. I would add that refusal to take an assignment would indicate your resignation and our decision to terminate your employment. Success of failure of a mission will be equally accepted. Because of the nature of the assignments, we expect some to be accomplished and some to fail. You will be paid in either case."
When I said I still had six months until my enlistment was up, the man smiled.
"Should you accept my offer today, your military records will be revised to indicate your enlistment has ended and you will receive an honorable discharge with all the benefits that discharge confers."
I was twenty-five at the time and tired of hauling my ass all over the world to places where people hated Americans. I was also tired of the Army transitioning the Special Forces into more observers than fighters. I had joined the Army and then Special Forces to fight the enemies of the US, not just spy on them.
"So, I can quit at any time?"
The man nodded.
"All you have to do is refuse an assignment and our agreement becomes null and void."
"What do I have to do next?"
He didn't say anything else. He just got back in his SUV and drove off and left me standing there. I started walking back to the main base, but about five minutes later, that same black Ford SUV that had taken me to the firing range pulled up beside me and the rear seat door opened. A half-hour later I was back in the parking lot where I'd parked my car.
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