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his fingertips together and spoke quietly. Honed to perfection while he was governor of New Mexico, it was the little power game he played that forced people to listen. And once he had them straining to hear what he was saying, he had them.
    “Manuel”—he drew out the vowels—“we have to remember why we’re going; I just don’t have time to stop in the UK.” He counted off points on his fingers. “One, the Brits don’t really care if we show up or not. They’ve got their own supply of oil, so what we do doesn’t matter to them anymore. The Labor Party is such a small minority in Parliament that it wouldn’t make any difference if we gave them Texas; they’d still buy oil on the open market.
    “Two, I’ve gone over two years in a row. I’ve got to appease both Russia and Israel. If I don’t, I’ll lose any influence I have left.
    “Three, Israel’s going to fall, and soon, if we don’t pump that money into their economy. The Arab Liberated Hegemony is poised on their borders with everything but the kitchen sink. All the ALH is looking for is an excuse to attack. And if we treat Israel the same way we did Mexico, we’re going to lose a lot of damned fine people.”
    Baca stared at Montoya, incredulous. “But Mr. President, you yourself know how touchy that would be—remember why you were elected. And keep Mexico out of this. If you try to equate the Israeli situation to what happened to Mexico, it’s over for you.”
    Yes, I remember , thought Montoya. If it wasn’t for the widespread sympathy to “Let Mexicans Rule Mexico,” I wouldn’t be here now .
    After Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Panama had been “liberated,” the American public started to get alarmed only when the rebellion in Mexico had reared its ugly head. But as before, the well-orchestrated propaganda from the revolutionary-left presented the United States the slogan: “Let Mexicans Rule Mexico!”
    Years of bigotry—treating Mexicans as “little brown brothers from the South”—and uncontrolled corporate greed had fueled the sentiment that the United States should leave well enough alone. The epidemic reached proportions unheard of in the past, outsoaring the anti-American sentiments reverberating from the rest of Latin America. And as a result, once the flow of émigrés started flooding the southern U.S., many Americans openly defied the new immigration policy. Quarter was given to any illegal alien, and support for this activity was openly sanctioned.
    The previous administration had felt the heat from the conservative element to “do something and do it now, damn it!” And even the more moderate pro-Western nations lifted their brows in concern. Mexico was violently turning socialistic, and it seemed that nothing could stop it.
    So in anticipation of an aggressive regime inheriting Mexico, the previous President ordered an assault on Mexico City. The purpose: install as titular head a native Mexican friendly to the U.S. (although her Harvard education was widely blown up in the press), and generally give the Mexican constabulary time to secure a stable government.
    The assault failed. Network coverage by U.S. journalists brought the fighting closer than ever before to the American home. Iraq and Afghanistan were no comparison: Live footage of Americans sweeping through Mexico City’s streets, felling nine-year-old snipers, tore at America’s gut. Within three days the resounding cry of “Come home!” permeated the nation. “Let Mexicans Rule Mexico!”
    So strong was the sentiment that outspoken attacks on the President resulted in the outright capitulation of American troops. This was no “peace with honor”; the troops retreated with their tails between their legs. The American military was pared to the bone, and a new national feeling of isolationism became the norm. It had been two years since Montoya rode to power, but he still appealed to everyone who had any sympathy at all for the Mexican’s