Free Scott Roarke 03 - Executive Command by Gary Grossman

great nations if you do not.” The fifty-eight-year-old ex-smuggler was known as an expert debater. Morgan Taylor expected a counter argument. He was going to get it.
    “Your assessments are not correct. You assert that the Maras are cooperating with Al Qaeda. Not in my country. Contrary to your police reports and intelligence provided by your historically flawed CIA analyses, they are not a centralized organization. They do not have the kind of infrastructure that would support a relationship with an outside organization, let alone a nonindigenous one.
    “Moreover, the Maras do not have an anti-American agenda. They are, without a doubt, criminals. But they are committing no political crimes. They are not terrorists.”
    An intelligence report on Taylor’s desk told him that historically Hernandez had solid ties to the Maras. The Mexican president’s protestations meant nothing.
    “Come now, my friend,” Hernandez continued. “The Maras are disorganized and terrible with details. They’d make the worst partner for Al Qaeda, which is highly security conscious.
    “As I acknowledged, the Maras are criminals. Perhaps deadly criminals, but they are not enemies of the State. Not ours or yours. Should you attempt any breach of our border to strike at these gangs, you will undoubtedly cause the death of hundreds, if not thousands, of my countrymen. Women and children included. The elderly and the pregnant. It will not solve your problems, Mr. President. It will increase them. You will succeed only in creating a new enemy. Examine your recent history to see that I’m correct.”
    The Mexican president paused, but not to allow Morgan Taylor a chance to re-enter the conversation. He used the moment to add a sharper tone to deliver and read Cabrera’s notes.
    “There are no terrorist training camps, Mr. President. Your hard targets are elsewhere. Not the Republic of Mexico. You cannot seriously consider Mexico farmland or our bustling cities home to terrorist bases. I repeat, Mr. President, the United States has no targets in the Republic of Mexico.
    “We do, however, have a border crisis. For that, you are right. And who’s to say that OTMs, the name you so readily apply—and an offense all its own—are not a problem. But I suggest you look to the north. Canada has more accessible routes to the United States. It shares two borders with you. Alaska and the mainland. And those borders receive less scrutiny than ours. It seems your immigration authorities prefer the warm weather.
    “Fly your drones elsewhere, Mr. President. Mexico is not your enemy unless you make it so.”
    Now it was Morgan Taylor’s turn again. Hernandez would not have the last word.
    “You must be familiar with the name Adnan G. El Shukrijumah, Mr. President,” Taylor blasted. He repeated the name. “Adnan G. El Shukrijumah.”
    Taylor picked up a file and read a summary.
    “Known Al Qaeda. Suspected in the planning of 9/11. Positive ID in Honduras, July, 2004, meeting with the leaders of Mara Salvatrucha. Shukrijumah had reportedly sought entry routes into the United States through Mexico. From Matamoros to Brownsville, Texas.”
    Morgan Taylor lifted his eyes from the report. “This Al Qaeda operative, who you maintain would have no reason to do business with the Maras, tried to acquire radioactive substances to manufacture a dirty bomb. A bomb they intended to transport through your nation to mine. A nuclear bomb, Mr. President.”
    Taylor’s voice was now far sterner than Hernandez’s. “Our bilateral agreements state that we share security responsibilities along our border. If it is not bilaterally maintained, then it will be unilaterally enforced. We will act. The Maras will be targeted and removed with extreme prejudice. We will take the battle to them. That is our course of action. If you have another, I recommend you make it operational within fifteen days. Fifteen days, Mr. President. Not a moment longer.”
    Taylor ended the call