“Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, but we’ve been granted an opportunity to celebrate a day early.  The world seems like it is dying around us, but we have so much to be thankful for.  We’ve been out here three weeks without so much as a scratch.  It’s always harder in the beginning because you’re still learning your horse and the men around you; trust me I know.  For that, I am thankful.

We’re riding some of the best horses I’ve ever had the pleasure of saddling,” he turned and smiled at Alex, “you did well Alejandro, better than I ever imagined; we’re only as good as the horses under us.  For that, I am thankful.

Men, we’re in a forgotten church that has weathered centuries in an abandoned villa that stood in defiance against the dictator, General Santa Anna himself.  You’ve all taken your names from the rebels at the Alamo who resisted the same man; isn’t that profound?  Look around you; imagine the others that have sat in this same place just as we are, and resisted the evil of their day.  I can’t stand here and tell you that I believe it all to be coincidence.”

He flashed a smile as he continued, “I’m not here to get preachy on you; Lord knows I’m not Reverend Byers.”

The men grinned in response as they listened contently, their appetites nearly forgotten.

“But the fact is I’m an old soldier, and often old soldiers find faith, or maybe it’s that faith finds them, I don’t know.  What you believe is your own business, but if you aren’t a believing man, I ask you to do this; tonight when you’re alone, it’s dark and there’s not a sound in the air but the wails of the chicharra grandes, just contemplate it for a moment.  We’ve been lucky so far, but we’re going to ride through the gates of hell before this is over; we’re going to need something greater than our sum to bring us back.

For now, let’s celebrate another overwhelming victory, enjoy some good company and be thankful for our good fortunes.”

The men applauded and cheered as they began their feast.  Reese stood up, walked over to Barrett and whispered to him, “How’s your Español?”

“Good enough, socio.”

“Let’s have a talk with our friend.”

Two

“Senator Engels’ office, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi Becky it’s Angela, office of the President.  Is Senator Engels available?”

“Angela!  The senator is available; could you hold for one second?”

“Sure.”

Senator Engels was not quite the eldest statesman on The Hill, but he was the most powerful, at least behind closed doors.  His public persona was reserved and almost timid in nature.  He avoided press conferences and speeches if at all possible; rarely did he ever make appearances in his district.  Despite his elusiveness and aloofness, his seat in the Senate had never been threatened by a serious challenger, for long at least.

His challengers always seemed to be plagued by scandal; exposés about their connections to unsavory individuals, embarrassing trysts with staff members or unethical campaign practices always seemed to surface at the most inopportune moments.  If all else failed, an old acquaintance from the past would resurface for an anecdotal character assassination.  At the height of the controversy, the grandfatherly senator would shuffle onto a stage and implore that civility be exercised during the very private, but now quite public, matter of his opponent; like an old friend, the tactic came through for the senator every time it was employed.  The challenger would fade into infamy and Senator Engels would continue to tirelessly toil away for his beloved constituency, and toil for them he did.

The devoted Senator Engels garnered more than ten times as much pork as the average member of the Senate.  Despite all the funds that he brought home to his state, his colleagues jealously regarded him for a different feat.

The Lion of K Street, as he was known, was the darling of every dishonest power broker, corrupt foundation and political organization with questionable loyalties, and he used his power and influence with them to destroy anyone that resisted him.  The Lion ensured that his counterparts in the House pushed his allies’ tome sized pieces of legislation and then ensured its passing in the Senate.  For his unwavering support, his allies granted him the power to destroy anyone he desired.  In back room meetings, far from the public eye, the senator shed his façade of the timid patriarch for his true nature, an abusive and demeaning manipulator that would stop at nothing to have what he desired – more power and influence.

After several moments on hold, a man’s voice answered the phone.

“Angela, how are you dear?”

“I’m well sir!  How are you?”

“All things considered, I’m alright.”

“Great!  Hold for one second; I’ll connect you with the President.”

The senator waited impatiently on the phone.  Why am I the one waiting, when he’s the one that called me?

“Fred?  Sorry about the wait.”

“Not a problem Mr. President, for what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Fred, I have some news I wanted to tell you myself, before you hear it somewhere else.”

Senator Engels’s face flushed hot with fury; he already suspected what the President was going to say.

“I’ve accepted Governor Baker’s offer; the Vice President and I will be leaving for Austin in two days.”

“Mr. President, I can’t tell you how disappointed I am.  This is an egregious error in judgment; you and your successor would be going into what one could only consider a hostile and unpredictable rogue state.  You do remember they seceded from the union?”

“Fred, I understand your concerns.  I don’t agree with Baker on anything at all, you know that; but he’s not going to let anything happen to us, and he’s surely not going to try anything himself.  Baker is fiery and radical in his views, but he isn’t our enemy.”

Senator Engels tried rein in his rage, but it was becoming apparent.

“Might I ask why you’re doing this?”

“Baker claims he has proof that the terror attacks and the assassination were perpetrated by people other than who the CIA and FBI claims are responsible.”

“Mr. President, you almost sound like you believe this nonsense!  I assure you he has nothing of the sort; the CIA’s investigation is airtight.  This is a political ploy of some sort by the governor to embarrass you!”

“I’m sure you’re right, but Baker truly believes he has proof and he’s on the verge of causing a full blown regional secession; we’ve got rumors about states from Louisiana to Utah saying they are going to throw in with Austin if we try anything rash.”

“It’s all a bluff sir; can’t you see what they’re doing?”

The President’s tone had changed from cordial to confrontational; the senator cursed to himself, he had pushed too hard and too fast.

“It’s not a bluff, Fred!  I trusted you; I trusted your counsel!  We’ve really screwed up on the border; you’ve really screwed up the border, admit it!  I will not be the President that presides over a civil war; I will not be another Lincoln!”

“Look, Mr. President, you need to remain calm-“

“No; I’m tired of being calm; being calm and towing your line is what got us here!  Everything that you and your people have told me has blown up in my face; the border, the economy, the speech – that damned speech was a disaster Fred!”

“Some very gifted and knowledgeable experts contributed to that speech sir.  Look, I know things aren’t going as expected, but we have to give these things time.  Until then, I have to advise against the trip to Texas.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t go; the notion that this is political wrangling by the governor isn’t good enough.”

The senator struggled to develop a riposte, but words failed him.  Before he could respond, the President continued.