by Doug Ball
“Sonny, you better back off or the six men with rifles and such right behind me might decide you’re a danger to my person and get pushy.”
They talked for a bit more after the coach decided there had to be a compromise. Then he thought of it. “How about you using the golf course and then I can run my drills on this here field?”
General Rios got in the car with Tan, sitting in the back seat with Abdul, after directing his pilot where to go. He looked at Abdul, “You looking for a job with a future?”
“No, Sir. I got a job.”
“Man, you are big enough to be hunting bears with a switch.”
“Yeah, and I got jail house tats and three felony convictions. How’s that sound to you?”
“Like someone needs to change some rules. What are you doing here?”
“I like these folks. They treat me like a man, plus they got me outta Florence.”
“You’ll have to tell me about it after this is over.”
“Anytime you got time, Sir.”
Tan broke in and updated the General. They parked at the club house as the chopper spooled down again. People came a running from all over the area to see what was going on. Two of the armed men took up stations to protect the chopper and the others just fell in loosely around the General. The General moved forward, “Folks, we got a little problem up in the hills. I would appreciate it if you would all just go about your business and let us deal with ours. We love your beautiful community and would like to have the privilege of meeting you. Maybe we will have the opportunity to do that after the situation is dealt with. Thank you and goodbye.” He poured on his Hispanic smile and charm. No one moved.
He turned to Tan. “I brought the topos you wanted. I also talked with the Corps of Engineers. It is their opinion that a drone filled with explosives from the trailer heist will not damage any of the dams fatally. I disagree and so does a Captain that works for me who is an hydraulic engineer. He told me that a shaped charge, hand molded out of that plastic could blow clear through any of those dams as full as the lakes behind them are. Every one of those dams has the flood gates opened fully and is spewing water. Roosevelt is at 96% of its flood control limit and is not going down due to the rains in the mountains filling it as fast as it’s dumping it out. All the lakes are above their storage limits and into the flood control levels, which are emergency levels that are designed in for rainy times like these. Now what?”
“General, I propose we put two stinger crews in fishing boats in Roosevelt Lake on an approach course to the dam and one down on Apache Lake as close to the dam as possible. Then we put snipers and stingers on the hill tops at both ends of Roosevelt and just snipers on the other dams. A sniper with a .50 caliber, auto or not, would be wonderful on the other three dams. What do you think?”
“It will take my chopper to get men to some of those hill tops before sundown, but other than that, it sounds like a plan. I got a couple of troops that love to fish.”
#
Usafi heard the chopper and could not see it. He rigged his desert camo nets over the trailer, car, and trailer with drone still on it, just in case they decided to go searching with choppers.
He continued molding his shaped charge. The container was the body of the drone and a stainless steel rod weighing over a hundred pounds ran down the center of the plastic. It took every ounce of his strength to put the rod in place without damaging the shape of the charge. He was very pleased that he remembered how to do the shaping from his training over 10 years ago in Libya. He was tired and sleep was not going to happen tonight.
#
Tan listened to the radio as law enforcement, National Guard, and others individuals were placed in locations around the dams and access routes to each. He got the word the Governor was having a press conference, which he was not anxious to see or hear, but would have to. Abdul followed him around constantly scanning the crowds and troops surrounding his new boss. Tank showed up just after Tan reached Roosevelt Dam from the lake side. Water stood almost to the top of the dam. There was no high water mark showing on the lake. If it had ever been higher before it did not mark the landscape. A boat with two fishermen in it was moving around the shorelines leading to either side of the dam which was securely anchored to the walls of a steep canyon cut by the Salt River since the great sea that had once existed over Arizona’s land dried up and receded.
Tank brought his truck in close.
“Not much of an opportunity to hit anything if that drone comes from this side along the shore and quickly into the dam,” Abdul said viewing the terrain with the eye of a crook planning his getaway.
Tank added, “Rough terrain all the way around.”
Three men with heavy backpacks could be seen climbing the Arizona Trail up the north side of the canyon. The trail went right through the middle of what used to be a village of shacks occupied by the dam builders from 1904 to 1912. There was a great view of both approaches to the dam once a person was nearing the top of the first hump where what looked like a giant bill board was located.
“Just hikers on the Arizona Trail,” Tank said. “My great-grandpa lived on that hillside for two years while they built this sucker. He said he could throw a cat through the cracks in the walls of his shack and the winter wind whistling through those same cracks about froze him to death the first winter. Before the second winter he bought two rolls of tar paper that almost lasted until the end of February.”
“Kind of difficult to build on that slope, don’t you think?” asked Rachel.
“Yup,” said Tank, “but Gramps told me there was a whore house on the flat over there where the road now goes through. Made the winter more livable.”
“Oh, great, way too much information,” Rachel commented.
The General’s chopper hovered over the peak on the south side of the dam for a minute or two. “Probably dropping snipers and a stinger crew up there.” Abdul speculated. “I wouldn’t want to be on that point in this breeze all night, no way.”
The four of them moved back into the truck. Abdul and Tan climbed in the back atop the sleeping bags and tents Tank had brought with him, while Rachel and Tank rode in the cab. “Take us down the road toward Apache Lake and Horse Mesa Dam,” Tan said through the open rear window. As he spoke, he realized the rear window was not open, it was missing.
Tank replied, “You’re the boss.”
Minutes later, the General radioed that all of his men were in position.
DPS and county leaders made their calls.
All was in place. Now all there was left to do was wait and watch.
Tan’s phone rang. “Yes?”
“Lenny here. Tweet just climbed into a medium sized rental truck he found in a parking lot and started driving north toward Paradise Valley.”
“How many men you got on him?”
“Three of us in separate cars. Maricopa Sheriff’s Department has offered more if needed. We’re okay for now.”
“Stay on him.”
“Will do.”
Tan looked at Abdul. “The explosives are rolling north.”
Abdul thought for a moment, lifting his hand he said, “Up 87 to Jake’s Corner and south to the dams. Maybe?”
“Good a guess as any, I suppose. Fits what we think.”
#
The Governor started her press conference.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of Arizona, Citizens and visitors alike, I come before you with bad news, but we are strong in Arizona and we will overcome all adversities.
“A radical terrorist has demanded one half billion dollars from the city of Phoenix and the state of Arizona. If this is not paid by noon tomorrow, this person will destroy the city of Phoenix and much of our beloved Valley of the Sun by blowing Roosevelt Dam apart with explosives carried in an aircraft controlled from afar. If this should take place, and we are reasonably sure he has the capability to do so, all low lying areas along the Salt River will be flooded. The depth of that water will run from over 60 fee
t in the riverbed to just barely wet as far north as Osborn and South to the mountains when all the water in our completely full lakes is released.
“It is my desire that there be no deaths should this happen. Therefore, all exits from the area indicated on this map will be outbound only. School buses and transit buses will carry anyone who can get to a bus stop or the transit away from the city to outlying areas where shelters will be set up. We’re talking three to four million people. It will take time, but I have been assured if all goes well, 60% of those living in the area indicated will leave in private transport and 40% will need a ride. You may bring all you can carry on your person. No wagons, carts, or other carriers will be allowed, except wheelchairs. There is no rush. Calm, cool people leaving at safe speeds, which will be posted, will get us all to safety. If you live on the fifth floor of a building you might make it through the flood, but the force of the water flowing around your building might be too much for that building and we ask that all evacuate. If you are not going to safety we ask that you write your name on your body with permanent black marker and the phone number of your next of kin that lives outside the flood area.
“There will be a 7.5 hour time delay from the blowing of the dam until the water reaches Granite Reef Dam. At that time all public transport will cease in town and move toward high ground picking up as many passengers as possible. Drivers, I don’t care if your bus has people stacked reasonably safely on the roof.
“One final word. This man has demanded one half billion dollars. We, the state and Phoenix, do not have one half billion dollars. We will not give in to the demands of this lunatic.
“His name may be one of many. He has used Adam Usafi and Mustaf Azzulla in the Phoenix area. The FBI tells us he has also used Mohammed Usa, Abada, Alamman ben Zeda, Reaka, and Hussein el Mustafa in the past three years. If you have information on someone using any of these names, please call your local law enforcement agency on their office number. If you know where a person using one of these names is right now, call 911 immediately.
“Thank you and good night.”
She turned and then turned back, “One other thing, this is the same man that instigated and funded the uprising of some disgruntled Native Americans in Arizona last spring. We also believe he is the one that bombed the Airways Center downtown. We want him.
“Good night.”
#
Lenny called Tan, “Tweet’s driving that truck all over the place. I can’t believe he hasn’t made us. By all indications, he is just driving around.”
“Stay on him.”
“Yes, Sir.”
#
It was a long night, cold and very dark. The moon was on the wrong side of the earth and the stars were muted by the thin layer of clouds overhead which promised more rain. Infrared and night vision equipment monitored all approaches, air or road, to the dams. A watcher was stationed in every marina, loading ramp, and beach on the lakes capable of being used to launch a boat. Portable radars had been set up in places where aircraft approach was even remotely possible. Big Ear listening devices had their sensitivity turned up as high as was practical to give as much warning as possible.
The fishermen felt the cold in the gentle breeze off the water to the point that relief was needed every hour or so. Soldiers who went out the second time dressed so heavy that they joked about floatation devices not being big enough and took playful bets on how long it would take the water to reach their body if they fell in. About 2 AM one of them found out when he slipped on the dew damped dock as he was entering his boat. He fell in next to a ladder which he climbed in record time, “I am wet to the bone. Thought it would take longer than that.” He went to a van to change into his spares. The Sergeant in charge sent someone else out, knowing that the wet man did not have enough spare clothing to keep warm very long.
Everybody waited. Their attitude was one of saving the city through heroic deeds. The younger ones were quoting superheroes from the movies as they watched and listened, shivering now and then because no fires were allowed.
Two men on a mountain top tracked a target with their infrared gear for ten minutes, calling in reports of turns and speed, until it came right at them. They ducked behind cover only to hear a large bird go directly overhead. The night vision gear let them see the owl they had tracked so well. Everyone on the network enjoyed the break in the monotony.
Before dawn all watchers reported to the command center.
“All stations report they are under as much camouflage cover as possible. All stations report manned and ready, General,” the radioman reported.
Men and women watched, sleeping in shifts and eating whenever they wanted to. One station reported, “We are out of water, request replenishing.”
Their Sergeant checked the map on the wall to find that they were a stinger team on the banks of Apache Lake. “You got a bazillion gallons within feet of you, use your purification gear. It’s called a lake for a reason.”
“Oh.” The silence said a lot about the embarrassment, “Will do, Sergeant,” was the feeble reply.
13
Midnight
Tweet made a stop at the MacDonalds near the corner of Beeline Highway and Shea, and stayed until his phone rang at 2 AM. He listened. As the team of shadows watched, he said a few words, hung up, and drove to the corner of Beeline Highway and Shea, waited for the light and then turned left heading north.
At the closed rest area just off Beeline Highway on the road to Jakes Corner, Tweet pulled off the road, parked, shut down the rig, laid his head back, and appeared to go to sleep. One watcher drove by and stopped out of sight down highway 188 toward Jakes Corner, a second continued on Beeline for a half mile and then pulled off to wait, and the third stopped on Beeline just short of the turnoff and called in.
3:30 AM
Tan’s radio went off in his ear. “Hey Boss, subject is parked and apparently going to sleep. He must know he won’t be moving for a while.”
Tan thought for a moment and replied, “Don’t move in yet. Watch and wait.”
“Gotcha. We will watch. Hell’s bells and cockle shells, we don’t have anything else to do, Boss.”
“Enjoy. Let me know if he starts moving. Don’t forget, two of our guys are in Punkin Center.”
9 AM rolled by.
9:30 AM
“Sierra India One, November Golf One. We got a tango might be worth looking into.”
“November Golf One, where’d you get the fancy call signs, General? What’s the tango?”
“I made them up, just to keep us all confused or something. This thing is driving me nuts. Nothing but routine, ‘I am not seeing anything’ calls and reports until now.”
“What do you have now that’s so special you have designated it a tango?”
“That’s a good question. This target is a vehicle or more on a dirt road under camo netting. From the satellite pictures we can’t tell much about it. Could be someone camping and using camo nets for shade. Don’t know if it is worth much at all. I’m going to send a couple of my troops to check it out?”
“General, we have every road into this area blocked. All side roads have been checked. He must have been in there before we started all this.”
“I agree, Mr. Brown.
“Where is this camper?”
“About 20 miles out as the crow flies, parked on a dirt road which turns off the highway to Young. The dirt road appears to be fairly level and smooth for six or eight hundred yards after the camper. Might make a nice runway for a drone. I’m sending in the troops. At least two.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
#
The General looked around the command tent. “Lieutenant Williams, come over here for a minute.”
“Sir.” The LT trotted to the General’s presence. Having missed the Battle for Arizona due to a training school he had been required to attend, he had never been summoned by the General. He had never even been involved in anything with this General before, e
xcept one weekend training. “How may I assist the General, Sir?”
“You can relax, for one. For two, I want you to take a combat experienced Sergeant with you and check out the probable camper hiding under camo netting at this location right here.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “Now don’t go getting too excited, but stay safe. This may be our man, and then again, it may not be. We don’t know. I really don’t even know what to tell you at this point in time. Go armed. Wear your full armor.”
“Yes, Sir. Do you have another copy of this map we could use?”
“See Specialist Browning. The confused looking guy standing in the corner over there. Bring it here and we’ll get it marked up for you.”
“Any particular Sergeant you might recommend, General?”
“Up to you, Lieutenant.”
He acquired the map, dropped it with the Sergeant moving pieces around on the General’s map, “Sergeant, please mark this up so I can get to the Tango.”
He then went to the Command Sergeant Major. “Sergeant Major, General wants me to take a combat experienced Sergeant and do an armed recon. Any suggestions?”
“I have just the man for you, Lieutenant. Wait right here.”
10 AM
The Lieutenant and Sergeant Decker finished refueling the Humvee, loaded the rest of their gear, and left the command tent, neither too happy with the other.
“I’ll bet you wish I was a male sergeant, don’t you, LT?”
“The thought has passed my mind, but I trust the CSM.”
“Well, I am female. I am combat experienced. I don’t like lieutenants with no experience at anything except training.”
“My problem is that you remind me of the Sergeant I served as a private under in Afghanistan. She wanted nothing more than to be a combat grunt and was stuck in the supply depot. I was there to defend her and all the cases of forms she was in charge of.”
Sergeant Decker stopped the vehicle, leaned her back against the driver’s door, looked the LT in the eye, and said, “You don’t say. My sista was over there. She was a supply clerk. Sergeant Netley, name change due to a bad marriage, and I mean bad.”