King of All I Survey-Chapter 151: The Children’s Crusade Rebuffed

The soldiers started to reform in front of Maribel and her followers. With all of the strength her 5’ 2" frame could muster, (as toned down to normal human strength by the internal settings Joe set), she pushed at a soldier blocking the way. He didn’t budge. He looked at her with big, sad eyes, "I’m sorry, Maribel..." Then he whispered, "My mother thinks you’re a saint." The other soldiers near him looked sorry but also stood fast to bar the way.

Without Maribel clearing a path for them, the mothers and children surged forward, the women pushing and shoving at the unmoving, though emotionally moved, soldiers. They began crying out, in plaintive laments. "They can heal my baby here! Let us through! For the love of God, have mercy! Please, my baby is sick. The other doctors said they cannot help us! Please, let my baby through! Maribel said they can help us here!"

The soldiers started glancing back and forth at each other, clearly very uncomfortable. But they did not move out of the way. Then, Maribel seemed to look toward the hospital building. "Is that my sister! Dios Mio! What are you doing to her? Let me through to my sister!" While she wasn’t strong enough to push the soldiers aside and make a path for the others, she was small enough and quick enough, to slip between them, evading grasping hands that didn’t really want to catch her. Finally, she burst through the other side and ran to her sister, who was still lying face down on the ground at gunpoint. "Susana! Mi hermana! Have they hurt you? Are you ok?" She yelled as she ran.

An officer stepped into her path, arms outstretched, and caught her in an unyielding grasp. She struggled fiercely and cried for her sister. His grip was unyielding. He forced her off to the side and motioned at two other soldiers to take her arms and restrain her. They did. She continued to struggle, trying in vain to pull her arms free and move forward. Never once did she try to try strike or attack those who held, she just pulled and wriggled trying to free herself. It was almost as if she didn’t even know what was holding her back from her sister, so singular was her focus.

I was watching the video monitors beside the camera in front of me raptly. Mom hadn’t filled us in on the whole plan. "It’s still a work in progress," she had said just before she was transported to the hospital lobby. I saw the General who had been on the phone a moment earlier whispering into the President’s ear excitedly. Apparently, he was getting first-hand reports of the latest happenings.

President De La Huerta’s face hardened angrily, "Do you think some crazy women can stop the Mexican Army?" He said angrily, on my monitor I saw him turn toward the General, "Don’t let them past! Send the troops in to clear out the building!" The General paled a little but held the phone to his ear and gave the orders.

As the orders were relayed, the soldiers by the hospital door began peeling off two by two and entering the doorway immediately moving left and right our of the doorway. The interior lobby, from outside seemed dark and full of shadow. Nothing of the inside could be seen. As soon as the last of 24 men were inside, the doors suddenly slammed shut. Another group of 12 rushed forward to try to reopen them, but the shield had been reactivated, and they could not force them open. They looked helplessly back at their commanding officer for orders. The sounds of harsh male voices could be heard from inside the building, "Get down! On the floor!" Then a woman’s scream rang out from inside, "Noooo! Please!" Suddenly there was automatic gunfire. First one weapon, then several, chattering in short bursts.

Mom, despite the gun pointed at her, jumped up to her feet and tried to run back toward the hospital yelling, "Noooo! They are unarmed! We have no weapons in there!" The sound of gunfire inside continued as she was tackled from behind by a soldier. His weight at full run, bent her body backwards as he struck, then slammed her to the ground. She lay, there pinned by his strength, her body wracked with sobs. Her face, with a drone’s close-up video feed, showed trails of tears and dust as she looked helplessly toward the hospital.

The General in De La Huerta’s office had the phone to his ear, his face grew more pale. He called into the phone, "Cease-fire! Do not shoot!"

"What’s going on?" The President demanded.

"Why do you watch for yourself, Mr. President? The video feed will go live on virtually every television, radio and internet broadcast in Mexico in twenty seconds," I said calmly.

His face flashed a quick panic before a hard resolve settled over it. He looked at an aide at the far end of the room, "Keep them off the air! Do whatever it takes!"

His lips curled up on the left side in a snarl. "You will not get away with this trickery. You will spend the rest of your short life in a Mexican prison!"

"Perhaps, but I really think you should have a monitor turned on to see what everyone in Mexico is about to see. It will likely be quite widely seen around the world as well."

He nodded to an aide who slid open a panel on the far wall to reveal a television screen. The aide picked up a remote, powered on the screen. The image formed: "Stay Tuned FOR LIVE Coverage of Mexican Army Actions in the State of Guerreo." There was a countdown timer, 3... 2... 1...

A view of the hospital from the front showed vehicles with heavy guns driving up to the front of the Army force, soldiers with large, shoulder-fired took up positions next to them, weapons at the ready as they kneeled in firing position. A reporter’s narration could be heard over the video. "The army appears to be directing heavy weapons directly at our position inside the hospital. During our own quick tour of the hospital, just moments before the army arrived, we saw only patients, doctors and unarmed hospital staff. That’s not to say that there may not be armed combatants hiding somewhere else in the building, but we certainly saw no evidence of any weapons or hostile forces." His voice became muffled for a second, "Are we safe here, should we move away from the windows?"

Another voice responded, "They have no reason to shoot, we will cooperate with whatever they ask."

The video feed shifted. It showed President De La Huerto courtesy of our invisible drone in his office. His face was angry, "Our forces have just arrived at Chilpancingo, we have your hospital there surrounded. Let’s make that the first point of your surrender, shall we? We are prepared to use heavier weapons to force the building open, if you do not let us in voluntarily."

The video switched to a split screen, showing me on the right side, "It is a hospital, with patients, your own citizens, President De La Huerta. Surely, there is no need for bombs," My image said, as the conversation I had with the President minutes before replayed, with video on both ends.

"Not if you open the doors. The choice is yours. If you care about the people so much, just open the doors," he demanded.

"OK," I answered, "We will open the doors. The safety of the people of Mexico is our first priority, though perhaps it is only second on your list... maybe less than second?"

"You have thirty seconds," he stated, his expression cold and hard.

"Yes, we are opening the doors now."

The view shifted again. This time we saw the hospital directly from the front. We appeared to be looking over the shoulder of an officer. His uniform bore epaulets with three stars above a sword crossed with a baton, all underscored by a yellow bar. A coronel, the commanding officer of the force in Chilpancingo. He held a phone to his ear. We heard a voice from the phone, "Open fire, in thirty seconds, on my command only." The officer replied, "Yes, Sir, General."

"Prepare to fire, on my command only!" He ordered. In the view over his shoulder we saw the gunners in the vehicles and those on the ground steady their aim. They appeared to be aiming at the front doors and ground floor windows on the front of the building. "Incursion team, stand ready!" The CO called.

The camera view zoomed in slowly toward the door of the hospital as our invisible, silent drone flew slowly closer. Suddenly, the doors flew open to reveal Mom. She looked defiant and angry as she stood in the doorway facing off against an entire expeditionary force of the Mexican Army. The bold sign declaring the building as a hospital providing free care showed clearly above her head.

"What do you want? This is a hospital. There are sick people inside!" We heard her call out.

In the news feed, we heard "Incursion team forward!" as two dozen soldiers in full battle gear rushed this one defiant woman and wrested her from the doorway forcing her to the ground with a deadly looking assault rifle pointed directly at her back from just a few feet away. The remainder of the incursion team lined up on either side of the door preparing for the assault.

Then the view shifted again, we were overlooking the ranks of Mexican Army soldiers toward the rear where a rag-tag group of women and children approached the soldiers. One determined looking woman leading the way. She looked very much like the woman who had just been thrown to the ground. As they drew near, the rear ranks of soldiers first looked over their shoulders to see what was happening then quickly turned to face the approaching group. Rifles held in a two-handed grip angled across their chests to use as a barrier.

On my monitor, I watched as De La Huerta, for the first time saw what had been going on, rather than hearing it verbally reported through several intermediaries. His hard expression had been slowly sagging from the moment the hospital doors opened. He now sat slack-faced with his hands palm down on the desktop in front of him. He looked at an aide, "What channels is this on?" he whispered.

The aide, eyes wide, whispered back, "All of them. Literally, every channel in Mexico."

De La Huerta closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, "Fuck."

He opened his eyes and watched a close-up view of a soldier tell Maribel that his mother thought she should be a saint, even as he blocked path. Then the children and their mothers reached the wall of soldiers. One child fell to the ground after being rebuffed. His mother helped him up as he favored one crooked leg, that had clearly been badly broken and poorly set some time ago. "Fuck." The president said again under his breath.

Then he watched as Maribel realized her sister was being held at gunpoint and struggled to come to her aid. We saw the heroic moment as she burst through the lines, and it looked like she might make it to Mom’s side. Then the officer suddenly stepping into the frame to intercept her headlong flight, holding her tiny struggling form securely. We saw one last view over her shoulder, Mom lying on the ground peering up at Maribel fearfully. The order to rush the building, Mom jumping up to put herself in the way of the two dozen special forces soldiers as they rushed into the building in precise pairs. We watched Mom’s body bend almost to the point of breaking as she was tackled by a soldier who had twice her body weight, even without the tactical armor and gear he was wearing.

I sent a mental note to Joe, "Holy cow, Joe. That’s some amazing work! Get somebody to write a backing score and you could win an Oscar!"

"I think we’re going for the Pulitzer with this particular piece..." He replied smugly.

The sounds from inside the building were clear from the television monitor. No, I commented back to Joe, this part is fiction. You can’t get a Pulitzer for that.

His android form shrugged, we’ll see. I have some contacts who might put in a word. I’m close personal friends with the King of the World, you know.

I almost laughed out loud, but remembered I was still on the phone with President De La Huerta.

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