I have to say, sir, that I interviewed the Garcias myself and they did not strike me as narcotraffickers.”“Appearances can be deceiving, especially to those who don't know the context,” Beltran said.“Understood, sir. However, I wasn’t finished interviewing these suspected narcotraffickers about the murders. I assume they’re on their way to prison in Tuxtla now?”“Yes.”“Thank you, sir. If you have a chance, perhaps you could call ahead to Cerro Hueco prison in Tuxtla and tell them that I will be seeking to interview the prisoners in a couple of days?”“Of course, Mr. Brown.” “Thank you, sir.” I continued to stand at attention.“You're dismissed, Mr. Brown.”“Thank you, sir.” Outside the office, I turned to Madero. “I can find my own way off the base, thanks.” I walked away from the base into a bright, almost blinding morning sun.The interview had gone well. Beltran had expected me to come into his office yelling about the arrest of the Zapatistas and demanding answers, at which point he would lecture me about neutrality, paint me as an American Zapatista, and begin the process of running me and Hoffman's investigation out of the country.
