| |
Parsons’ private jet made a flawless landing at the Oakland/Troy Airport in Troy, a northeastern Detroit suburb. Canan had never flown private before and was overwhelmed. She and Hana were treated like VIPs, pampered and fed like no commercial flight she’d even flown. After landing, the plane didn’t stop at a terminal requiring passengers to walk a long way to baggage claim. The Parsons Security private jet taxied right up to the main building. Canan and Hana saw Karim through the glass, anxiously awaiting their arrival.
The plane stopped moving, a bell sounded, and lights were illuminated. Canan rapidly unbuckled the seatbelt from her all-leather plush executive seat. She kneeled in front of Hana and unbuckled her daughter’s built-in child’s seat. Canan hoisted Hana into her arms and dashed off the plane.
“Karim!” She shouted and waved as she scaled the airplane stairs.
Karim saw and heard his wife, pushed open the terminal door, and ran toward the plane. The three met somewhere between plane and terminal and embraced, alternately laughing, crying, and hugging.
“I’m so happy to see you, my sweet ladies. Let’s have a look at you!” Karim gently placed Canan and Hana squarely in front of him and rubbed his chin studying his family.
“Daddy!”
“Still the most beautiful ladies in the whole wide world,” Karim gasped, bursting with joy. “And all mine!”
“Always,” Canan smiled. “I’m so sorry I didn’t heed your warnings, Karim. Can you ever forgive me?”
“For wishing to visit your mother? Who can criticize?” he conceded. He looked down at Hana. “How is my little princess? Did you take good care of Mama like you promised?” It was an innocent question. He did not intend to be critical, but Hana didn’t see it that way. She began to cry. “No, Daddy! The bad man hurt Mama! I’m sorry!” She bawled.
“No, sweetheart, Daddy is sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You brought Mama home to me. I’m so happy and so, so proud of you!”
Hana dried her eyes, sniffed, and smiled. “Yes, I did,” she boasted. “There she is.” She turned and presented her mother to her father.
“And who are all these fine people? We have not met.” Karim addressed the other travelers. Introductions were made. Karim thanked all for their bravery and sacrifice. He requested a moment to speak privately to Wayne Parsons and Zachary Blake.
He thanked Parsons for his heroism and strategic planning. He thanked Blake for his incredible generosity. He pledged to pay back every dime, even if it took him the rest of his life.
“It’s not necessary, Karim. I am a very fortunate man. I enjoy sharing my good fortune with deserving people. You and your beautiful family are most deserving,” Zack maintained. “You don’t owe me a thing. Well, I take that back. One favor, if you don’t mind?”
“Anything! You name it.”
“Don’t let your wife make any travel plans for a while?”
Everyone laughed. Even Canan, initially embarrassed, laughed long and hard. Hana didn’t quite understand, but she laughed because everyone else was laughing.
A porter walked up to the Izady family and asked where they would like the luggage. Karim pointed to his Camry and hit a button on a key fob, which caused the trunk to pop open. The porter dropped the bags into the trunk and clicked it shut. Karim handed him a generous tip. The Izady family waved goodbye to their travel companions and started toward the car. At that moment, a Parsons operative exited the plane with Rima Al-Baklavi in handcuffs in front of him.
“Oh, Karim, wait,” Canan stopped. “I want you to meet someone.” She scooped up Hana, grabbed Karim by the hand, and walked back toward the plane. They met the woman as she descended from the last step.
“Karim—this is Rima Al-Baklavi. She saved our lives. She is as much responsible for our survival as everyone here in front of us.” An embarrassed Rima hung her head in shame.
“Mrs. Al-Baklavi, thank you! From the bottom of my heart, thank you for keeping my family safe from harm. Canan told me of your incredible sacrifice. I am so sorry for your loss. Is there anything we can do to repay you?”
Rima could not look at the man. More than anyone on the tarmac, she knew how close his family came to being slaughtered and what her role was in the terrorists’ actions. She was in agony and undeserving of praise.
“I am owed nothing,” she finally muttered. “I put your family in danger. I did that. No one else standing here can say this. I do not deserve your gratitude. The United States may do what they will with me. That is what I deserve.”
“Nonsense, Rima! How could you have known?” She turned to Karim. “She had no power, Karim. Mr. Blake will assist her. Right, Mr. Blake?” She turned to Zack, who stood off by the terminal building.
“We are all glad you and Hana made it through this ordeal. I will help in any way I can, Canan. Call me ‘Zack’ please? ‘Mr. Blake’ is my father or grandfather.”
“You will help? She needs your help.”
“I will help, Canan. I promise.”
“Perfect. Thank you. Karim? We can go now. We shall have all of these fine people to dinner one day soon.”
“Yes, dear,” Karim capitulated.
“Smart man,” Zack smiled.
As the Camry drove off, Wayne Parsons approached Zack. “Talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure, Wayne. What’s up?”
Parsons nodded toward Rima. “We have not yet reported her arrival. This is your rodeo. She has no papers. What do you want me to do?”
“If you can spare the handcuffs, leave Rima and the key with me. I’ll take it up with my partner, the immigration guy, when he returns from El Paso. I’ll take the heat if there’s fallout from this decision.”
“Are you sure? This is some serious shit. She’s a terrorist sympathizer, at the very least. We can’t smuggle her into the country. We must notify the feds. It would be treason not to report her arrival.”
“I have no intention of smuggling her anywhere. I just want to confer with my immigration guy before we take any action. He’ll know what to do. Trust me.”
“A lawyer? Are you kidding?”
“Et tu, Brute? More lawyer jokes?”
“Counselor, I will leave her in your capable hands.” Parsons chuckled.
“Thanks, Wayne. And thanks for the incredible job you did out there. You guys are the best of the best,” Zack praised.
“High praise from the King of Justice,” Parson retorted. “And back at you. Nice job extending the negotiations the way you did. I wasn’t sure about you as a lead negotiator, but you came through. We were much better prepared because of the time you bought us. This was truly a team effort. And I hope to work with you again.”
“I sure hope not!” Zack gasped. “The courtroom and the boardroom are tough enough places to negotiate and navigate—but in the desert with a terrorist? No thanks! I’ll pass on a second go-around.”
Parsons laughed. “I completely understand. This international security stuff is not for everyone.”
“Someone has to keep us safe, even when we put ourselves in harms’ way. You do it better than anyone.”
“What’s that?” Jack Dylan walked up with Shaheed Ali.
“Doing what you guys do—keeping us safe,” Zack advised.
Jack sighed and deadpanned. “All in a day’s work, Zack. All in a day’s work.”
***
Shortly after the Parsons private jet landed in Troy, a Southwest Airlines commercial flight landed at the Blue Terminal at Detroit Metropolitan Airport. Among the passengers on board were two actors, a private investigator, a lawyer, and two young Latino citizens of the United States.
Before departing from El Paso to Detroit, Marshall Mann telephoned Mary Carmen and Miguel Gonzalez with the fabulous news.
“We’ve located your children! They’re here with me, now! We’re getting on a flight to Detroit. Your children are coming home!”
“Oh my God, Mr. Mann! I cannot believe this! Miguel, do you hear? The children are coming home! They are safe!”
“Thank you, Jesus!” A euphoric Miguel exclaimed.
“We have a 5:00 PM flight. That’s 6:00, Detroit time. We should be landing at around 8:45 PM. He gave the couple the flight details and terminal location. Because of post 9-11 heightened security, waiting family members could no longer meet arriving family members at the terminal gate. Marshall advised Miguel and Mary Carmen to meet the kids at baggage claim.
The plane landed on time. The two actors entertained and played games with the children throughout the almost three-hour flight. The kids’ somber mood brightened considerably. After the landing, the group deplaned and headed down the tarmac toward the terminal. Emma and Emilio were excited to see their parents. They ran ahead, expecting to greet them at the gate—and were disappointed to discover that no one was there. A despondent Emma turned to Marshall. “Where are our parents, Mr. Mann?”
“Emma, Emilio, they are here. We can’t meet them at the gate,” Marshall tried to explain. “They are downstairs. Come. I’ll show you.” Marshall picked up Emilio and extended a hand to Emma. She grabbed his hand, and the entire group headed through the terminal, past several gates, and onto an escalator. They rode down the escalator to the baggage area.
As they came down the escalator, someone shouted. “There they are!” In a moment of sheer joy, Emma and Emilio Gonzalez spotted their parents and forgot their months-long ordeal. They were home—there were their parents!
The children ran into their parents’ arms. Tears of pure joy began to flow all around the baggage claim area. While a large contingent of family and friends had accompanied Miguel and Mary Carmen to the airport, perfect strangers joined in the celebration as the story became known.
Someone must have called in a tip to local news stations because reporters, photographers, and cameramen from all the local TV stations were at the terminal. Reporters and cameramen from the Free Press and News also shouted questions and took photographs. The family reunion was a major feel-good story in a time of confusion and despair for the Latino community of Detroit.
Reporters interrupted the euphoria and struck microphones in Mary Carmen’s face, seeking comment. Mary Carmen glanced at Marshall Mann, seeking permission to speak. Marshall nodded his head.
“How do you feel at this moment, Mrs. Gonzalez?” A reporter shouted.
“We feel wonderful, over the moon!” She laughed and cried at the same time, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“What have these past few months been like for you?” Another reporter queried.
“We were desperately concerned for our children. We had no idea where they were. The government took them and didn’t say a word to us. Officials claimed they didn’t know where they were. My children were born here in America! They are American citizens! We came here for a better life. We lived in fear in Venezuela every day. How can America take American children from their parents?”
“Mr. Gonzalez? Do you have anything to say?”
“I wish to say muchas gracias to our attorneys, Marshall Mann, Amy Fletcher, and Zachary Blake. They have made this day possible,” Miguel exclaimed.
“May we speak to the children?” Another reporter wondered.
Mary Carmen looked down at a determined Emma. “If they are willing,” Mary Carmen consented.
“Emma? How do you feel at this moment?” The reporter wondered.
“We are happy. But, we are sad, too,” Emma murmured.
“Sad? For heaven’s sake, why?”
“We left so many friends behind at the camp,” she cried. “I wish for them to know, if they are watching— you will soon be home with your parents, too.”
Marshall could not have scripted a better response. Judges would watch the news on television or read the newspaper in print or online.
‘So many friends,’ innocent children, some American citizens, were left behind in a quasi-prison, separated from their parents. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Marshall motioned to a reporter who grabbed a cameraman and ventured over.
“Sir? Do you have a comment?”
“Yes, I’m Marshall Mann. I practice Immigration with Zack Blake’s firm. I’ve got an alert for the local and national press about two important issues: One: These folks have been through a terrible ordeal. Please respect their privacy until they get reacquainted. Two: Emma and Emilio Gonzalez are American citizens! Shout this from the rooftops. I don’t care about party or your political position on immigration. These kids were locked up because no one from our government bothered to check their birth certificates. They could easily have confirmed that Emma and Emilio Gonzalez are American citizens. Print that! Show that on television!
“We will petition the court for asylum for their parents and for the right to sue ICE, HHS, and Homeland.
“This reunion is a joyous, wonderful story, and I am pleased to be a part of it. But as Emma just told you, the more important story is that children are being ripped from their parents’ arms and locked up in prison camps. The real story is that ‘so many’ of Emma’s friends are still separated from their parents. Some of these parents have been deported or can’t be found. What will happen to those children? How does this happen in America?
“‘Zero Tolerance’ is an effective political sound bite for someone running for office or seeking to remain in power, but this is an unconscionable situation. It must be remedied. Bureaucratic hurdles that prevent family reunification must be torn down. This cannot be who we are—we are locked in a battle for the very soul of our nation.
“Children and parents are frantically traveling the country looking for each other. In some situations, when they find each other, justice is delayed or denied. Some legal technicality is used to keep them apart. Fingerprint or DNA analysis is inconclusive. Government malfeasance will no longer be tolerated. We will be filing an asylum claim as soon as the court can set a date. Thank you.”
After reporters and cameramen packed up and left the airport, the celebration continued. Relatives, friends, and classmates took turns embracing the children and welcoming them home. As other planes arrived, passengers entering the baggage area wondered if important dignitaries were visiting the city. Slowly, the area began to clear. People headed for home.
The five people principally responsible for the joyous reunion stood off to the side and watched the celebration. Liam and Josh reveled in their roles in securing the freedom of two innocent kids. Micah, usually stoic in the success of his investigative missions, was moved to tears at the sight of the Gonzalez family reunion. Marshall was happy for the family and extremely grateful for the publicity. Significant public pressure would be brought to bear on any federal judge who sought to separate this young family a second time.
Marshall thought back to his partners-in-crime’s visit to the El Paso Detention Center that morning. Was that really this morning? The delay at the gate, the engagement with Lieutenant Moore, the Zoom call to Billings, and, finally, the release of the kids. The entire caper went off without a hitch. Marshall was skeptical when Micah suggested the plan. He was glad he didn’t actively participate, curious whether any laws were broken, but extremely satisfied that this family was finally reunited.
The battle would now be fought in his domain—federal court. The battle could be fierce. The Golding Administration might fight like hell and dirty as hell.
Marshall Mann knew how to fight dirty. He had quite a few legal tricks up his sleeve, developed from years of experience. Amy and Zack also knew how to fight—the courtroom was their stage. In court, law, not political gamesmanship, should win the day. But Marshall wasn’t naïve—he knew this wasn’t always true. The judicial assignment for the Gonzalez case would be a huge determining factor in its success or failure. Judges were assigned by random draw.
The celebration was ending. Micah Love and the two actors were summoning Marshall to the parking lot for the ride home. The legal battle was tomorrow’s challenge. Today? Wow! What a fabulous day!
