[ wp ] Mexico falls to communism in the 70 's and the threat of a full scale American invasion is at its highest .

The war was upon us. *Us*, of all people. `` A menace to liberty and the American way of life'' Reagan had called us in his last statement. Such a pedantic thing to say from a nation that stabbed its neighbor in the back in our hour of need. Our intelligence reports confirmed that it was the CIA that was behind that dreadful afternoon of October 2, 1968. After the Tlatelolco square was painted red with the blood of our students, red was the only color the people could relate to. 
 
 I marched along with the leaders of the communist movement. Social justice was our motive, and pain was our fuel. We always knew the Soviets would back us, we were strategically close to America, and far enough from the motherland for them not to care about our fate if things went south. We were being played, at least that's what I tried to explain to the rest of them, but Russian support, both military and financial were necessary if we wanted the revolution to succeed. 
 
 Once the system had fallen, once Echeverría lied dead, we put Márquez on the Eagle's Throne, our youngest, brightest, purest mind in hopes he'd have the strength of character to stand our ground in the bigger fight; the fight to come. I was appointed Minster of Foreign Affairs. `` A booming time for diplomacy'' as Fidel once cynically remarked. 
 
 The borders were shut, naturally, and all Mexicans ( or at least the ones that lived ) were deported or imprisoned. America was `` 100 % Mexican free'', that is, except for Bruno ( my assistant ), and myself, who now sat in the White House lobby, waiting to see Reagan himself, with the weight of a world war on our shoulders. Sitting in the lobby was a beautiful blonde girl that reminded me of Joan Fontaine, from the movies when I was a kid. 
 
 Everyone had their own set of expectations from this meeting. Khrushchev wanted me to say *this*, Márquez wanted me to do *that*. Whatever happened in this meeting, it was going to shape the fate of millions of people, and the only script that I was willing to follow was my own. I was going to put an end to this before it even began. If the Americans and the Russians wanted to tear each other to shreds, that was fine by me, but I would not allow them to use my house as their playground. 
 
 `` Mr. ChickenChasah'', Joan Fontaine said, `` the President will see you now.''
