by Tim Wheat
Intelligence gathering was the order of the day and he intended to give it his full attention. The ballplayer and the girl kissed, then chatted for a couple of minutes, before making their way over to the ballplayers parents. Yes, they must be his parents, and he is introducing them to his girlfriend. What a quaint way to waste an entire day. The spy possessed scant information about why he was here and that made the motivation for him to do a good job more difficult. A commitment to staying on task was essential, though, and after a few minutes he observed the two women walk a short distance from the men. Then he began seeing the eel dominate the conversation. In a few short minutes he was doing all the talking. This must be the reason he was here. The eel was making his contact and it was the big guy’s son, the ballplayer.
Relief flooded over the spy as he watched the largest man call the girls back just a short time later. Perhaps he hadn’t wasted the entire day. The ballplayer must be the contact he was sent to watch. Of course the spy would follow the eel until he went home in the evening, but he felt like his task was a complete success. A couple of minutes later the eel said his goodbyes, and began walking toward the parking lot at the other end of the field. The spy had orders to track the eel so he did. It was easy for the spy to blend in on a college campus. He was small, and had spent plenty of time in America. He knew their traditions. He knew their language. He knew them. He hated them.
The spy had let his mind wander as he descended the bleachers, and as he stepped off the last one, he ran face first into the ballplayer. He cursed himself for his inattentiveness. He hadn’t noticed the ballplayer and the girl go opposite directions from the big guy and his wife. Now, here he was, face to face, when subtlety was a main goal of his mission.
“Easy there little buddy.” Chase said with a smile. “Looks like you’re the last guy around. Hanging out late after the game huh?”
“Um, yeah,” thinking on his feet when not prepared had never been his strong suit. He preferred intricate planning. “I, uh…”
Chase reached out and ruffled the spy’s hair with his left hand, his arm around Mary Elizabeth on the right.
“Don’t worry about it little buddy. I’ve had worse today.” Chase took his arm back and pointed at his eye, but still flashed that smile.
“Wow,” said the spy, catching his wits,” I didn’t realize you were the pitcher and hit the home run. Can I have your autograph?”
Chase smiled again, whipped a pen out of his jacket pocket and signed the top sheet on a pad of paper the spy kept for note taking. It read: Edward Rex Chase #31.
“Don’t know if that’ll ever be worth anything if I keep taking shots off the dome.”
“Gee, it means a lot though, thanks Edward.”
“Call me Rex kid, call me Rex. See ya.”
With that Chase and Mary Elizabeth headed away from the spy who cursed his stupidity again, but liked that he had gotten the ballplayers full name.
“Edward Rex Chase,” he muttered to himself. “I have a feeling we’ll be running into each other again in the near future.”
With that the spy took off on a jog toward his model a roadster parked near the eel’s similar vehicle. The eel was already in his car, thanks to the spy’s delay, so he would have to hurry. While he crossed the field in short order he wondered to himself about Chase. Who was he? Why had the spy come here to find him? What was going to happen next? These were all questions just one man could answer, and Dietrich Hoff was due in town tomorrow morning.
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9.
Sonoran Desert, Arizona, U.S.A.
Although it was five o’clock in the afternoon, and Ahiga had gotten no sleep the night before, he still felt like a million bucks. His assignment in this camp was to monitor the professor, observe suspicious activity, and watch for suspected espionage. When Angela Sarff had arrived he had seen an opportunity to get close to the professor without arousing his suspicions. He cursed that he was a mere day laborer, rather than someone more respected, as that would have made attaining Doctor Sarff's trust easier. He had gained the confidence of the professor’s daughter in one night, however, so he hoped the doc would be as easy. What he hadn’t expected, though, when he had decided to woo the beautiful woman, was that she would win him over as well.
Actual love was something that a man in his current profession could not afford. If he were a more seasoned veteran, and not a “young pup”, as the General referred to him, Ahiga would not have let himself become so enthralled with Angela Sarff. What would happen, though, if she found out why he was in the camp? He hadn’t lied to her when they talked about his past, but he had left out some of the more recent truths. He was a full blooded Native American and his parents had left the reservation when he was young and headed east. Ahiga had grown up in Boston, his father bouncing from job to job, as Native Americans out east were almost always considered to be drunks, even when employers had no reason to believe they were.
Robert Ahiga was not a drunk, but was a skilled artisan, and a good worker. In the middle of the Great Depression when it seemed impossible for a Native American to find a good job, Robert had found a corner in the city where just the right person discovered his talents with wood. The elder Ahiga had noticed the same well dressed man walk past his stand every day. George often would sit and watch his father work the wood for hours on end, and the things he could do amazed the boy. His father had memorized the man’s face, and one day when he walked past, had gotten his attention. To The General’s amazement the Navajo had carved a life size bust of him out of maple. A smile on his face, Robert Ahiga offered to sell it to The General for three dollars, an approximate day’s wages. To the surprise of both the elder and younger Ahiga, The General pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and told him to keep the change.
General John Francis Reagan was anything but the average man walking down the street. The son of a wealthy publisher, Reagan had attended West Point, and cut his teeth with Teddy Roosevelt in the Spanish American war. He had been on a fast track through the army, ascending to the rank of brigadier general by the time the U.S. entered the Great War. His meritorious service and brilliant battle strategy had played an important role in defeating the Jerry’s, and by 1923 he had passed all of his peers to the rank of four star general. At the age of forty, he was very young to be afforded such an important rank, and job, but for some reason the luster of his army career had begun to wane. It was at this time a member of the President’s cabinet had approached him. Reagan had met FDR on a number of occasions because of his high military ranking and personal relationship with Theodore and considered both men to be good friends. Still, it was a special day when the president himself was asking you to do something for your country. The president’s proposal was what The General had been looking for and he accepted the offer. His career was never about money, and it was never about power. It was about serving his country and challenging himself while doing it. His new job fulfilled everything he had wanted in a career.
The day after purchasing the bust for twenty dollars The General rounded the corner half expecting the Navajo to be gone. Twenty dollars must have been a huge windfall for the man, but, to his surprise, Ahiga and his young son were at their normal station, peddling their wooden trinkets for nickels and dimes. Reagan approached them again with more work. He proposed that the Navajo do busts of his entire family. At twenty dollars a piece that would come to around eight hundred dollars, or eight month’s wages. The shock in Ahiga’s face was evident as George had danced around the table singing a song and whooping and hollering. During the upcoming months the Ahiga’s had spent countless hours at The General’s personal residence and the company had filled him with genuine surprise. He had no children of his own, and the busts he commisioned were of his siblings, cousins, and their children. Their presence brought welcome energy into his home and he enjoyed spending time with the younger Ahiga.
A loud steam whistle blew, snapping George from his daydreaming, and signif
ying the end of the working day. As he ambled back toward the tent town that was now his residence, he marveled at what luck his family had run into meeting The General. After finishing his work another aristocrat had hired George’s father, then another, and another, until they were able to leave the corner altogether. His father had even carved a bust of the President of the United States. Over the years The General, despite the family’s upward station and independence, had stayed close and mentored George. That’s why when George Ahiga turned seventeen; he decided to join the army. At first The General had opposed the idea, but George convinced him that it was what was best. The Native American job market was almost non-existent, and George didn’t have the artistic leanings of his father. He did, however, have a keen mind, and a certain fearlessness that lent him to the current duties he performed. A few months earlier The General’s sudden arrival at his station in the Pacific had surprised the young officer. George had been acting as a surveillance tool in the Pacific Ocean Theater. From a political standpoint, the imminent war with the Japanese was not imminent, but the Army and the Navy knew otherwise. His unique observation skills, along with his ability to speak Navajo, made him an invaluable tool for the services. Nevertheless, The General had reassigned him, and over the course of the next few weeks George learned about the worldwide importance of the job.
Now here the fledgling intelligence officer was, in the middle of a desert, feeling very tired, and walking down a dusty road with a hundred other guys. The labor was difficult work, and he hadn’t seen anything worth mentioning in his report around the camp yet, but he had spent very little time in the company of the professor, who was either busy in his quarters, or down in the old mine. Ahiga’s mind drifted again to Angela, and he wondered if her workday was complete as well. She hadn’t been standing guard today, as was her usual station, keeping the men from being lazy, or killing one another. At first he had assumed that her father had let her get some sleep, but when she hadn’t emerged from her shanty well into the day he had become concerned. Maybe she had gotten ill from her trip out in the cold? Wondering wasn’t doing him any good, however, so he took a calculated risk, detached himself from the rest of the crew, and circled around the back of her cabin.
Upon reaching the rear of the cabin Ahiga became aware of voices inside. It was a man and a woman, and upon further listening he was able to discern the voices as Angela and her father. They were arguing and he crept around the corner of the cabin. After shuffling to a spot he recognized as a crack in the siding their voices became more audible and discernible.
“Well, if you want me here Daddy, I won’t be staying all cooped up in this cabin every single day. You haven’t even allowed me out to use the restroom,” said Angela. “Another thing. I’m also not real fond of my two babysitters watching my every movement.”
Ahiga stiffened at those words and scanned the tree line around him. With no one in plain sight he raised his head up over the pile of kindling to see an armed guard sitting not more than ten feet ahead of him. The man sat just behind the corner of the cabin, but his brown khaki clothing had helped him blend into the woodpile. Ahiga had not been scouting for guards, and in his attempts to be casual, had failed to assess the danger. He cursed at himself under his breath as the doctor gave an apologetic reply.
“My dear Angel,” a name he had called her since she was a little girl, “I do these things for your protection. You must believe me when I say that it is quite possible your life is in great danger. I just couldn’t live with myself if something ever happened to you because of me.”
Angela Sarff was a fiercely independent woman, however, and that sort of explanation was not going to cut it.
“Daddy, if I need an armed guard I’d rather it be someone I know and trust. These two brutes you have outside look like some bouncers from a strip club in Phoenix.”
“Very astute. They were,” He said. “They came as the highest of recommended brutes, and expensive at that. Why, who did you have in mind?”
“Well, remember the man who saved you from the horrible fall yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I kind of sought him out last night to apologize after you were so rude to him, and it turns out he was once a security officer in the army.”
Ahiga smiled to himself at her bending of the truth. He didn’t remember last night going quite the way she had portrayed it to her father, but putting the circumstances of their meeting on his shoulders was brilliant. Suspicion in his voice, her father answered.
“Is that so? If he was so excellent an officer, why is he now here making a pittance working on the mine? He can’t be more than twenty.”
Ahiga perked his ears, waiting for her retort.
“I think the Army granted him leave when his mother fell ill. When her illness became extended they gave him an honorable discharge, and upon her death he came west in look of work. He’s a well spoken and intelligent young man. I believe he said he was twenty-one years old.”
George smiled to himself again. She had told an outright lie to her father, and it was a lie that would endear him to anyone. He was now a young soldier who had given up his profession to care for his ailing mother. Who would be suspicious of that? Ahiga could hear her father’s voice soften in his reply.
“Angel, I apologize for my gruffness with your new friend yesterday. You know I have been under an undue amount of stress. If he is half the man you make him out to be, I would be happy to meet him, and if his credentials check, allow him to head your security detail.”
Ahiga’s heart leapt into his throat. He was in. Between his military training, and his background as a Navajo, he was more than qualified for the job. Not only was he qualified, but it was a perfect way for him to keep tabs on his real job. He needed to act now, but despite his constant scanning he still had not located the second guard. Ahiga guessed that the second man was on the other side of the cabin, hidden in a tree, or a bush, or any number of wonderful places to hide. A would be intruder could see the first guard with ease, make a plan to subdue him, just to be taken out by the second guard without ever knowing he was even there. It was a good strategy; one that Ahiga had seen used before. He had been lucky to approach from the tree line and be obscured to the second guard by the cabin. If he had made the mistake of attempting to subdue the guard in front of them, though, he had no doubt in his mind he would be dead. These guys were pros, but George needed them to look incompetent while he himself saved the day
Ahiga needed a quick plan. He racked his brain trying to come up with an idea on the spot. The first things that popped into his mind were risky, but now was the time to strike. George used all the stealth of his Navajo roots to sneak back into the tree line and make his way to a small guard shack at the corner of the camp. He made the fifty yard trek in a few minutes, and although he had never seen a guard in the building, approached with care.
While controlling his breathing he slid underneath the small structure and peered through a hole in the floor. With visual confirmation that no one was inside, he slid out from underneath, and thanking the gods, slipped in the door which faced away from Angela’s cabin and the armed guards. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he closed in on his objective. Upon arrival at the camp he had performed a routine reconnaissance of the shack and found that a space between the corner floorboards and the outdoor skids would be a perfect hiding place for a small package.
A few days before, and for no particular reason, he had stolen, and stashed four sticks of dynamite in the guard shack. At the time he didn’t have a reason to steal, but the opportunity to get his hands on some explosives had arisen, so he had taken it. Part of his mission, if discovered, was to blow the camp, and he had his own dynamite wired throughout the shantytown. It never hurt to have more, though.
With great care Ahiga retrieved the explosives from the potato bag he had hidden them in, and tied two together in one bundle, and two together in another bundle. He handled the sticks like they were
brand new babies. A man could not be too careful when it came to handling dynamite another man had mixed. You never knew what mindless drone was in charge of explosives.
His plan hinged on a couple things. First, was that the guard near the wood pile would be the reactionary of the two men paid to protect his love. Second, was that the other guard, meant to stay hidden and cover the first, would give away his position somehow and that he, Ahiga, could put him out of commission. Simple plans often seemed to be the most successful, but even with the simplicity of this plan, young George Ahiga was going to need a little luck. He struck a match and lit the fuse on the first bundle of dynamite while he used all of his stealth to exit the shack unnoticed. Silence dictated his movements as he got himself into position for the impending attack.
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10.
He covered the ground between the shack and the cabin in light speed without being detected. The sun had started to disappear behind the mountains and light was waning. Ahiga cursed under his breath that it wasn't already dark. Darkness was a welcome ally in stealth operations, but so was surprise, and he had that. His position behind guard number one was secure and as time seemed to slow, he sat waiting.