Conquistadors by Jeff Kirkham & Jason Ross

Author:Jeff Kirkham & Jason Ross [Kirkham, Jeff & Ross, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ReadyMan Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-11-14T23:00:00+00:00

The column of Mexican soldiers and narco commandos had retreated a couple miles from the maw of the ambush site, and Tavo had accepted a few stitches on his forehead from the corpsman. He would carry a nice scar to remind him of the time he’d underestimated a fat American.

Still looking at his map of the southwest, he weighed what he’d learned. His campaign for America would have to thread the needle of timing, force and surprise in order to avoid the bottled violence of this culture.

Even given the most recent cartel violence—mostly driven by the feral Zetas—Tavo knew that Mexico would endure a collapse with far less ferocity than America. His home country would dig in the ground, plant what they could and starve to death if they must. There would be plenty of theft, of course, but there would be little violence.

America, on the other hand, would burn itself out in a rage. Like a sweet wine gone bad, America had burst its cork. Millions of guns, coupled with pent-up social resentment, would send America back to the days when Texans and frontiersmen ruled these deserts with heavy-bulleted rifles and hulking revolvers.

Tavo would have to pick his battles very carefully, as each bullet loosed by his men would draw down a riptide of fury. Even starving Americans might abandon their families to come fight, if on principle alone. Just one rifle shot from his men could bring a reckless army of American irregulars down upon them at any hill, bridge, or narrow pass. He would be wise to concentrate his forces on the assets, rather than trying to conquer territory. Like the Persians, he could come back later and buy up survivors with food and promises of peace.

Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind, Tavo remembered from the Bible. His damaged head—probably a concussion—thundered like the drums of war, and he felt no desire to bring down any more pain upon himself than this mission required.

He couldn’t remember all the details of the ancient war between the Persians and the Spartans, but he remembered that Xerxes had ultimately defeated the Spartans and had Leonidas’ body beheaded and crucified. He remembered from the movie that the Spartans had come to fight with only three hundred men. It made Tavo think of the cop’s last words: that there were millions more just like him.

He looked northward and gently ran his finger across the stitches on his forehead. All around the burning ink pot of Tucson, featureless desert ran to the four corners of the compass. There were no narrow passes like Thermopylae he would be forced to navigate. He had a half-million square miles of open desert where his men could maneuver.

But he would need better, more devastating weapons. Like Xerxes, he would need his Immortals.

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