The night was cold and clear in the Arizona desert. Several camouflaged men barely visible in the moonlight fanned out across the landscape. After hiking for more than an hour, they broke off, and disappeared into the night. Each man found a place on a hill, or behind sage brush, or in a runoff ravine and silently waited. Several night vision monoculars began to methodically survey the terrain. In virtual silence, a variety of scoped deer hunting rifles were checked and loaded as a discrete communications check was conducted.
Jose walked briskly through the Arizona desert. The border had been crossed about thirty-five minutes ago without incident, but the coyote – a human smuggler- was still moving very quickly along the well worn and barely visible path. Unless Jose and the others kept up with their guide they would be left behind to die of exposure or dehydration in this ruthless environment. Jose knew that his gallon of water wouldn’t last very long if he were to be separated form his guide, so he instinctively struggled to keep up and hoped that a moment to rest was coming soon.
Ben, a twenty year old computer sales executive from Phoenix, was lying prone on a modest hillside amidst a growth of sage brush. He was thinking of how far removed from the ordinary his situation was. Wearing the store bought camouflaged desert battle dress uniform he received from his uncle on his birthday and with his face grease painted by Mac (an older man who used to be an Army Ranger), Ben waited patiently to do his part to stop the invaders from Mexico. He adjusted his grip on the lever action .358 Winchester his dad gave for Christmas last year and touched the ear bud attached to his handheld.
The silence of the desert, the wide sky and bright stars led Ben to recollect the four point deer he bagged with the Winchester from sixty yards at Hummingbird Springs last month. Soon he will be firing his Winchester again. The exhilaration of the kill quickly faded as the reality of taking a human life invaded his thoughts. Ben’s not a killer, he’s an inside sales rep for a computer company. But Ben is a patriot. His country has been and continues to be invaded from the south. Yet his government is doing nothing to stop, and even encouraging, those who are destroying his country.
A moments rest allowed Jose to steal a drink from his plastic water bottle. It was very dark, but he knew before long his guide would lead them to a road where his group would be loaded into a van and taken to a Phoenix safe house. Within a few days he would find work and start wiring money to his family in Mexico. Perhaps within a year, when the baby was old enough to make the trip, they could be brought to America to be with him. Elated at finally being in the land of plenty, he pulled down the brim of his John Deer baseball cap stood up and sprinted to catch-up to his guide.
Near the end of his shift Border Patrol Officer Smith checked on the vehicles parked off the remote dirt road in his region. From his turnover report he knew that a party arrived at approximately 1:45pm and went into the desert wearing camouflage and carrying hunting rifles. The trucks had sat on this dusty dirt road all afternoon and well into the night while the party hunted in the desert. Since all hunting in Arizona is from dawn to dusk Agent Smith needed to locate the hunting party and clear them out of the desert. At night, in this desert, this close to the Mexican border almost anything could happen. He parked his 4x4 near the two empty vehicles, took his shot-gun, and walked into the desert hoping to locate these men.
Shaking him from his angry contemplation, a tiny voice in Ben’s ear whispered “We got movement, on Ben’s ten about 200 yards.” Bens directed his night vision to that area and witnessed approximately two dozen figures walking single file. It appeared to Ben that the group was being led one armed man and trailed another armed man. In well practiced precision they were briskly pushing their way through the brush in a very long single file line.
“Wait for my signal,” Mac whispered. Ben was transfixed at the glowing shapes moving in the desert. His heart was welling with nervous anxiety when the ear bud whispered again. “Let them get closer. Take out the ones with the weapons first” Mac said, “We’ll hunt the rest after.” A cold chill shot down Ben’s spine as every nerve in his body instantly became acutely aware of his surroundings. Swallowing his jitters Ben eyed his scope and fixed his crosshairs center mass on the dark figure leading this pack.
Agent Smith crouched for a moment atop a hill to scan the horizon with his night vision goggles. He was hoping to locate the hunters. On his second pass he spotted about two dozen people about one hundred yards away walking in a ragged single file line at a quick pace. In near silence he called in his location to request assistance. To ensure these aliens didn’t get away Agent Smith, shotgun in hand, quietly descended the slope it the direction of the aliens. About one third of the way down the hill, in a good observation spot, Smith noticed a slight movement to his far left. A glance into his night vision confirmed that a person was lying amidst some bushes. The figure appeared to be aiming a rifle in the direction of the aliens. Quickly and quietly Agent Smith moved toward the man.
As he waited for Mac’s signal, Ben danced his crosshairs between the coyote’s chest, mouth, and forehead. It would be one hell of a shot- a personal best. His heart was racing. He and his buddies were about to do their part to save America. They would do what the government refuses to do and what poll after poll and proposition after proposition demanded. They would rollup the welcome matt and put uncertainty and fear into the hearts of these Mexican invaders. Ben and his buddies would be heroes.
“Ben, one’s behind you! He’s armed!” Mac’s voice urgently invaded Ben’s concentration. Suddenly like an iceberg crushing down on his soul Ben realized his own mortality; he instantaneously rolled right and lifted his weapon in the direction of the approaching figure.
As Agent Smith approached the still figure he was stunned to see the camouflaged hunter suddenly roll and lift its rifle directly at his chest. Survival instinct took over and in one quick motion the Agent feigned left, lifted and fired his shot-gun. At six feet Ben’s face neck and chest were deeply penetrated by the shotgun blast. Mortally wounded Ben dropped his Winchester and took his final breath.
A moment later as Agent Smith began to realize what just happened, he could no longer breathe. Blood gushed from the Agents throat as he collapsed. The former Army Ranger’s aim had been a second late but fatally true.
As the flat boom of the shotgun broke the quiet of the desert night the illegal aliens scurried in every direction. Not knowing which direction was Phoenix and which was Mexico Jose ran aimlessly away from the sound of gunfire. Two days later he and eleven from his party died of dehydration and exposure in the Arizona desert.
Mac and the remainder of his group were arraigned before a judge for acts of domestic terrorism and the murder of Border Patrol Agent Smith.
Agents Smiths widow was struggling to explain what happened to her children while making funeral arrangements.
This is a work of fiction. But the story is not far from what could occur on any given day, in any state along the 2000 mile US-Mexican border. The American people are fed-up with this government’s ambivalence. Americans are tired of the governmental machine which is supposed to represent the will of the American people. Americans have overwhelmingly said “NO” numerous times to entitlements and benefits being given to illegal aliens. Americans have repeatedly said “NO” to anchor babies as a side door to American citizenship. In vote after vote and poll after poll citizens have dictated what the American people demand of their representation. Yet for all their lawful conduct Mexican representation is all the American people have received from their government.
The time is nearing when America citizens will overlook almost any action or act that will have any real impact on illegal immigration along the US-Mexico border. Traces of this sentiment can already be seen in society today. American citizens have tired of the excuses made by governors, congressmen, and Presidents who point fingers to one branch or another to avoid taking responsibility for their duties. Americans are flabbergasted as those politicians they once supported for their stance against the illegal invasion have lost their authority to influence America’s laws. Strangely - almost to the man - those vehement supports of building barricades on the southern border, banning mass amnesty of any kind, and deporting those illegally in America we’re voted out of office despite overwhelming majority of Americans in favor of tough stand against illegal immigration.
If the federal government will not ensure this nation’s homeland defense, and border state governors - in the absence of federal leadership in this matter - refuse to protect their people, then it’s only logical for American citizens to defend their homeland. American folklore tells a tale an America where the government received its authority from the consent of those governed. If this is true and if the elected government is not governing as set forth by powers granted to it by the states, and if states are not governing by authority as set forth by the people, then there is no law. It is only a matter of time before American law enforcement will be hunting (and perhaps killing) disgruntled American citizens to protect those who break American laws, water down America’s culture, and degrade their America’s sovereignty.
Americans will remain sheepish to the treason of the American government for only so long. When instances like the story above actually occur because the American people must stand in their countries defense from the totalitarian actions of their government regarding national sovereignty, America will cease to be America. Disturbingly this scenario is not so far off.
