"Americans think all this shit stays south of the river," Agent Gonzales said. "But the cartels, they're here now."
"We should send the special forces into Mexico," Jim Bob said. "Kill the drug lords."
Agent Gonzales shook his head. "You kill one drug lord, another takes his place before the sun sets. Too much money to be made selling dope to the gringos. Last four years, we seized six thousand tons of dope coming across the river. But the DTOs-drug trafficking organizations-they shipped sixty thousand tons."
" Sixty thousand tons? "
"Metric."
"How?"
"How not? Trucks, trains, planes, automobiles, buses, boats, submarines, tunnels, ultralights… you name it, the DTOs do it. Even with all our interdiction efforts, they've got a ninety percent success rate."
"Is the drone helping?"
"Border Patrol's grabbed a few immigrants with the drone, but the DTOs got radar tracking it, so the drone don't slow down their shipments."
He waved a hand at the camp.
"Sophisticated operation-booby traps, tripwires, irrigation pipes running down from the spring, drip lines throughout the plants. Almost harvest time. The cartel won't be happy with you, Governor."
"That I killed their men?"
"That you found their dope. Street boys like these, they're a dime a dozen in Mexico. But that"-he gestured at the agents cutting and stacking the plants-"that's two hundred million bucks fixin' to go up in smoke."
"Two hundred million?" Jim Bob said.
Agent Gonzales nodded. "I figure this grow site for a hundred acres in production, maybe fifty thousand plants. Commercial grade, from seed to harvest in four months. Each plant produces a pound of dope, each pound is worth four thousand dollars wholesale. Ninety-nine percent profit margin."
"Money really does grow on trees," Jim Bob said.
"Three times a year. And this is a small operation compared to the grow sites we busted out west. Last year, we eradicated four and a half million plants on federal lands. Do the math, that comes to eighteen billion dollars worth of weed."
"Should've been a dope farmer."
"You and me both."
"What about the children?" Bode said.
They had found twelve Mexican boys and the girl, Josefina.
"Abducted in border towns, brought up here to work the plants. The boys, they're ten, eleven, twelve years old. Been out here almost a year now."
"What's going to happen to them?"
"ICE will take them into custody, try to locate their relatives."
"And if they don't?"
Agent Gonzales turned his palms up and shrugged.
"How's the girl?"
"Not so good. She was their sex slave. The men raped her regularly. But the one you shot in the back, she said he came to the camp only a few weeks ago. He raped her twice a day. And beat her bad." The agent's jaws clenched. "She's only twelve. You did the world a favor, Governor, shooting those Mexicans full of holes." The agent's face was stern and his skin brown. "Americans want to smoke dope, figure it ain't hurting no one. But someone always gets hurt."
A car horn interrupted them, and a black Hummer came crashing through the brush and over the creek and skidded to a stop. John Ed Johnson jumped out of the driver's seat and marched over, his head covered by a Stetson and his trouser legs tucked into tall boots, looking like LBJ himself pissed off at a congressman who had voted against him; Mandy followed behind, tiptoeing through the clearing in a dress and heels. John Ed arrived in a huff, glanced at the marijuana field, then addressed Agent Gonzales.
"These Mexicans growing dope on my land?"
"It was an inside job, Mr. Johnson. Your man Manuel."
" Manuel? "
"He rode off," Bode said. "Heading south. Making a run for the border."
John Ed seemed stunned. "Manuel did this? To me? "
"We'll catch him," Agent Gonzales said.
"Why the hell don't you people do your job and secure the goddamn border?"
Agent Gonzales held his ground.
"You want me to do my job, Mr. Johnson? Maybe I should check the immigration status of all the Mexicans working for you."
"You do, and I'll have your job."
"You don't want my job, Mr. Johnson."
John Ed stomped off in search of another federal employee who might show more respect for a billionaire. Agent Gonzales shook his head.
"That says it all about our immigration policies."
A WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP sound came from beyond the tree line and then over the trees came a half dozen helicopters, like a scene out of Apocalypse Now.
"Who the hell are they?" Agent Gonzales said.
"Network and cable TV," Jim Bob said.
"Who called them?"
"I did."
The DEA agent stared at Jim Bob as if he were nuts then walked off just as Mandy arrived and said, "Shit."
"What's wrong?"
She grabbed Bode's shoulder to steady herself then lifted her foot.
"I stepped in shit."
Bode turned to his political strategist but pointed up at the helicopters.
"Why'd you call the media?"
"Because this is it."
"This is what?"
"Your one big play. Your game changer. You wanted it-you got it."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
The Professor aimed a finger in the direction of the three men Bode had killed.
"Those dead Mexicans… they're your ticket to the White House."
Jesse held the dead rattlesnake high as they entered the small cafe.
"Luis! Look what I have brought for you."
Luis Escalera, the proprietor, came around from behind the bar.
"Jesse! Mi amigo. What have you there?"
Jesse gave the snake to Luis. He would fry the rattlesnake meat and make a fine belt from the skin. Jesse had brought his nurse into town on her first day for lunch at his favorite cafe, a small colorful place with good food and a large television on the wall above the bar showing the Houston Astros baseball game on cable. They sat at a table near the bar. Pancho lay at their feet.
"This afternoon," Jesse said, "I will take you around the colonia and introduce you to the residents. And perhaps this evening you would like to go to a restaurant, a place with music?" He lowered his voice. "We will leave Pancho at home."
She smiled, and it was a nice smile.
"I would like that very much."
The governor's wife gazed at him from across the table, but Jesse saw the governor's face. On the TV behind her.
"Look."
She turned in her chair to see the screen. "Breaking News" ran below the image of the governor standing in front of a clump of microphones and surrounded by Latino children. Lindsay stood and walked over to the bar. Jesse followed.
"Luis, please turn up the volume."
Luis did, and they heard the governor speaking.
"I was sighting in a feral hog from up on that ridge when a young girl ran from this tree line, chased by three men on dirt bikes. I could see through the scope that she was just a kid. They ran her down, slapped her, pointed guns at her. I figured they were gonna kill her, so I shot them before they could shoot her."
"He shot someone?" the governor's wife said.
The camera caught three other people standing off to one side of the governor: a bald pudgy man, a big Texas Ranger, and a young blonde woman. She was very pretty. The governor's wife pointed at the woman's image on the screen.
"That's Mandy. He's having an affair with her."
Mandy Morgan gazed upon the governor of Texas. She had loved Bode Bonner from the first moment she had met him, in his office the day she hired on. He was tall, he was handsome, and he was twenty years older than her. All of her affairs had been with older men.