The Victim at Vultee Arch
Page 20
“I’m not familiar with Pipe Springs,” she said. “This compound was built by someone with extensive military knowledge. In a direct attack, few people would survive to reach the wall. Even if you were able to force the front door, you’d be caught in the crossfire from the walls on either side before you reached the second door that enters the plaza. They may have additional machine guns covering the entrance. This is a death trap. You cannot assault it with small arms. That is exactly what the builders designed it to defend against. They were safe from any number of outlaws or Indians as long as their ammunition held out. Without air support or much heavier weapons than police normally use, you’ll be massacred. Please make Captain Horn understand that a frontal assault is out of the question.”
“I’ll do my best, but the Captain is in charge of this operation. We’ll need to show him some sort of alternative. The residents won’t even talk to us. How do we start a negotiation? When the sheriff tried, they just took him prisoner.” I wondered if Chad had been correct regarding the scuttlebutt about a nighttime assault. Did the residents have night vision equipment too? Did they have a method of lighting up the area outside the walls once we started to infiltrate the area? Captain Horn had assembled about sixty armed deputies and other law enforcement officers from neighboring counties and the Arizona Highway Patrol, but that didn’t seem like many now that I’d seen the objective.
I heard the sound just as Linda was beginning to say something else. A small plane zoomed over at full throttle drowning out her comment. It flew right over the center of the Freedom First Ranch compound and almost instantly was gone in the distance. The whole flyover took only seconds. The quick over flight was designed to not give the residents a chance to shoot at the plane before it was out of sight. I noticed a small parachute float toward the central plaza within the stone walls.
“It’s a satellite phone with a note asking for them to begin negotiations,” Allen said. “I hope they’ll respond. The phone is a little special. The only places it can call are these phones.” He took out his own satellite phone.
“It’s a little more special than that,” Linda said with a twisted smile. “It’s always on. We can hear anything in its vicinity.” She handed me her phone
When I put it to my ear, I heard a voice say, “Do you think it’s booby trapped? Be careful Billy.”
“It’s OK. They want to talk. Let’s get Howard.” There was a long pause with nothing said, and I handed the phone back to Linda.
“I hope this makes contact. If it doesn’t, do you have another strategy?” I asked.
“This old girl scout is always prepared,” Linda said. “I brought a special change of clothes in case I need them. Please go talk to Horn. I think I wore out my welcome in our first meeting.”
I walked back to the staging area where Captain Horn was sitting in an open Jeep talking on a phone. He seemed to relish his transformation from a career desk jockey to a military commander. I was afraid that his General Patton fantasy would get a lot of us killed.
When he finished his call, he smiled at me and indicated that I should sit in the passenger seat next to him. He asked, “Do you know what the airplane was doing in that low pass? It couldn’t have been a civilian because the FAA has closed this airspace.”
“It dropped a phone into the compound. The FBI agents are trying to make contact,” I said, not wanting to elaborate. “What’s our plan Captain?”
“That fool FBI woman assumes I’m going to lead a suicide charge. I’m not that stupid, and I don’t want any more of my men killed,” he said with a glare of anger in his gray eyes.
“Of course, I understand you’re not stupid,” I said. “Chad mentioned night vision goggles.”
“The guys talk, but they never have things right. My strategy isn’t an all out assault. However, I want to let them know we’re out here and not willing to just sit around for six months. I want to lower their defense capability a little and shake them up. Maybe that will get their leaders talking to us at least. I plan to take out the four machine guns in the corner bunkers as a first step. We’ll use two-man teams to lower the number of men we put at risk. After the action against the bunkers, we’ll pull back and see if it improves their willingness to negotiate.”
“I’ll help anyway I can. I’d like to be on one of the teams, but we should see if the agents can start a conversation with them first. The only way to prevent heavy casualties will be to get them to surrender.” I didn’t specify whether I thought the heavy casualties would be on our side or theirs, but sixty men with only small arms could never take that fortress even if we knocked out the machine guns. They might have replacement machine guns and other military weapons as backups.
We heard shots from a weapon fired on full automatic, about twenty rounds in three seconds. All conversation in the staging area stopped, and everyone moved toward the overlook where Linda and Allen had set up their scope so they could see what had happened at the compound.
When we reached her, a very angry Linda Surrett said, “He tossed the freaking phone over the wall and blasted it with an M-16. A guy named Howard told us to get the hell off of his land, and then they shot up the phone. We need to move on to the next approach, but I’m not optimistic. This may take months.” She stormed off toward her rental car while the rest of us took turns looking through the spotter scope at the remains of an expensive satellite phone on the dusty ground a little to the left of the only door into the fortress.
When I walked back to the staging area, Linda had changed clothes. She was dressed in a white nurse’s outfit. The costume looked like a movie prop from the 1940’s with a white starched hat and white oxford shoes. I approached her and said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Linda smiled at my reaction and said, “Right, I look like a fool, but the best profilers in the agency came up with this strategy. The residents have no TV, never see movies, and almost never use hospitals. The experts think that this will be their impression of what a Red Cross nurse should look like. Most of these people have never been off the ranch except for visits to the little towns of Fredonia and Colorado City. They’re the descendants of early Mormon pioneers who don’t know much about the modern world. Their last extensive contact with the outside was when a number of them served in the army in Viet Nam. The profilers are confident that they will respect a Red Cross nurse. The residents will think the government will honor the neutrality of the Red Cross as we do during wartime because they think this is a war. They’ll allow me into the compound, and I can break the ice on negotiations.”
“You’ll just become another hostage.” I said. “Try something else first. Don’t go in.”
Linda unbuttoned the top of her blouse, smiling at my baffled expression. She said, “This bra has a built in transmitter. They made the sheriff strip before they took him inside, but our people think there is no way they will take my bra. They are very conservative in religious and sexual matters. I’ll be safe, and you’ll have someone inside who can tell you exactly what’s happening.”
Half an hour later, I stood with Allen Peabody and watched Linda disappear behind the stout wooden door of the compound. She’d been correct. They did not require her to strip before entering. She’d gone in, disregarding the insistence of Captain Horn that she not add to the hostages held in the compound. Captain Horn claimed that he would enter a formal protest with FBI headquarters. Linda had smiled and said, “Stuff it.” She had walked briskly in the direction of the compound, holding a Red Cross flag on a short pole as she strode alone in her white shoes and 1940’s nurse’s uniform. I didn’t know whether to admire her or think her a fool.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
It was about midnight as I roamed the staging area. The night sky was astonishing. A thousand stars splashed across the Milky Way, not dimmed by a single man-made light anywhere on the horizon. The Freedom First Ranch had a diesel generator, but the residents didn’t use it for lights at night. I assumed that they liked the q
uiet and wanted to conserve fuel. The lanterns in the camping area for the law enforcement officers and news reporters had all been extinguished. The night was completely quiet except for the snores of the sleeping. Chad had invited me to share his tent, but he was already sharing with two Sedona deputies and there was really no room for me. I’d arrived straight from New York without any camping gear or other equipment. I didn’t even have my pistol. I was the worst prepared man in the encampment.
As I neared the rental car that Linda had driven to the area, Allen Peabody opened the door; the small interior light was like a flash of lightning to my dark adjusted eyes. “Mike, get in. It’s cold as hell out there.”
I joined him in the car. It was not warm, but the seat was comfortable and I leaned it all the way back, hoping for a little sleep. Allen had attached one of the satellite phones to a small digital recording device. It was sitting on the dash. He’d been holding the other receiver to his ear in the dark.
“Is that Linda’s transmission?” I asked.
He nodded. “She scheduled a midnight update on their defenses. She just completed it, and now she’s trying to go to sleep. Linda talks very softly, and her transmitter picks it up and transmits it to one of these two phones. Unfortunately, I have no way to respond. There’s no receiver built into her clothing.”
“So what did she have to say?” I asked.
Allen shifted in his seat in the dark. For a moment I wondered if he had heard me. “Linda ordered me not to pass on any information about their defenses yet. She thinks the information will make it more likely that Captain Horn will do something stupid.”
“So you’re willing to let some of us get killed rather than tell us what you know? I don’t believe that’s true Allen,” I said.
“If you’re really going in, I’d have no choice but to help,” he said. “But for now, there’s no need to mention that I know anything to Captain Horn. The last thing Linda wants is any operation that will mess up her attempt to negotiate. She seems to have been accepted as an actual nurse. Some women searched her, but they’re not very technology savvy. They don’t know that a transmitter and power source can be small enough to fit in her bra.”
“The captain is willing to wait to see if she can begin negotiations, but he’s an impatient man. When does she think there will be some contact?”
“At this point, she’s still just a nurse, a neutral. She did say that Sheriff Taylor has been treated well. He’s kept in a different house. She’s only been with him for a few minutes pretending to examine him for medical problems. She also said that the residents seem to be in excellent health and good spirits. They don’t have a realistic understanding of their situation. They think the law enforcement officers will eventually get tired of the siege and withdraw.”
“They killed four Coconino County deputies. Are they crazy?” I was skeptical that they were that naïve. I assumed that they wanted to make us stew for a while so they could get a better plea bargain. The shooters might be able to negotiate down from the capital crime of homicide of four law enforcement officers, but the best they could hope for was life without parole.
“The men that killed those deputies will either die in an attack or in prison,” I said.
“Mike, I listened to their evening religious service through Linda’s transmitter. Howard, their elder, proclaimed that the Lord will smite the besiegers with fire and death. These people don’t understand much of the world outside their ranch. It’s going to be a long siege.”
If they were waiting for God to intervene on behalf of cop killers, they’d have a damn long wait. Maybe, we could find someone who shared their religious convictions, but who understood more of the world outside to help with the negotiations. They must marry outside of their little clan. They must have some contact with people in Colorado City or Fredonia who share their heritage and some elements of their religion.
“Captain Horn won’t wait indefinitely. If Linda doesn’t make progress in a few days, he’ll do something to shake them up,” I said.
It was about 3:30, and I was in that stage of near sleep where I was partly aware of my surroundings but trying hard to fall into a deeper sleep. I saw the first flash through my closed eyelids and sat up immediately, wide-awake with the adrenaline pumping and my heart pounding. Four more flashes illuminated the campground, and now tents were burning, continuously lighting up the camping area. Figures were jumping up; some were still wrapped in burning sleeping bags.
Three more Molotov cocktails flew through the air like pinwheels before exploding into flames against various vehicles in the staging area. So far there had been no shots fired, but the law enforcement officers were sitting ducks. Most stood illuminated by the gasoline flames staring into the complete darkness beyond the reach of the firelight. I saw a match strike and light three more cloth rags. In their light I could see four dim forms in the darkness. They rushed off as soon as the Molotov cocktails were thrown at a couple of police vehicles and a news truck.
That was all there was to that night’s attack. It lasted less than two minutes. Most of the sixty law enforcement officers had left their weapons in their vehicles. No one had thought to set up a perimeter guard or take any other measures against a night attack. As soon as the first cocktail was thrown, men had been milling around unarmed and unprepared for further attack.
I called Margaret at 6:00, hoping to reach her before she turned on the morning news. She said a sleepy hello and I explained the nighttime attack.
“Damn Mike, you were in the army. You know better than to have a camp with no one on guard. What are you guys doing up there? You’d better get Horn to turn this over to an expert. Do you even have a weapon?” she said. She was mad that I might have been in danger, and she was furious that ten men had needed to be evacuated with burns, three of them serious cases that were flown to a burn center in Phoenix.
“I borrowed one from Chad,” I said. I hated to lie, but I did plan to borrow some sort of weapon immediately. “Captain Horn has been on the phone to the governor. He’s as mad at the Freedom First fanatics as he is. The governor feels that he needs to prove he can lead the state and be really tough in a crisis. He feels he must support a show of force if he wants to stay in politics. At this point, an attack on the compound is certain unless Linda can pull off a miracle by getting the negotiations started. I think we’ll limit the first attack to the four concrete bunkers and maybe parts of the wall to limit casualties.”
“The best laid plans,” Margaret said.
“Captain Horn considers this a war situation now, and I don’t think he appreciates that the ranch residents could have killed dozens of us if they’d wanted to. We were totally unprepared for an attack, and the men are not trained for this type of situation.”
“You shouldn’t even be there. You were suspended,” Margaret said.
“Captain Horn reinstated me,” I said. “He respects my opinion and I may be able to keep things from getting out of control. There are a lot of women and children in that compound.”
“Keep your head down. I love you.” That was Margaret’s way of telling me she understood why I was there.
“Will you do me a favor?” I said. “Please call Rose this morning and ask her to see what she can learn from the Cottonwood Police about Reggie’s murder. Have her call Chad’s satellite phone sometime this afternoon with an update for us. Ask if they found a rifle in his house. I’m curious if he was the sniper who took that shot at me last week.”
“I’ll call her before I go to work. If there’s news about Bank E & A on the Internet or business news programs tonight, I’ll call you with an update. Otherwise, I won’t use Chad’s phone except in an emergency. Be very careful Sweetie,” she said.
I handed the phone back to Chad who said with a smile, “There were two Flagstaff deputies that are so mad at Captain Horn that they are holding signs that said THE END IS NEAR.”
I finished the well-known joke for him, “and they were synchroni
zing their watches.” There was not much we could do except make a joke of our own foolishness. It had never occurred to me that residents of the ranch would attack our camp at night, send ten men to the hospital, destroy three Sheriff’s Department vehicles, and completely burn one very expensive FOX news truck. “Chad, it could have been a lot worse. The men were sitting ducks dodging around in the firelight without taking any sort of defensive precautions. We never even got off a shot at the attackers, and they could have easily picked off many of us with sniper fire.”
“I’m ready to bomb the hell out of them and not lose any more of our men,” Chad said. He was serious and seemed to have forgotten that the compound was full of women and children. It also contained Sheriff Taylor and a senior FBI agent. Chad was probably one of the most levelheaded men here, and I wondered what the more reckless ones were thinking.
“I talked with some of the reporters this morning,” Chad said. “It’s a slow Monday for news and this is getting a lot of coverage. The CNN cameraman got good shots of the tents and vehicles burning last night. He responded quicker than anyone else did. The guy seemed to take a special pleasure in his footage of the burning FOX truck. FOX doesn’t have any way of transmitting from here until another vehicle arrives from Salt Lake City. This is big news and the governor will have to do something now.”
“You’re right,” I said. “He was a tough businessman who ran on an anti crime platform. He’ll want to keep that public image as a very tough leader, but the sheriff and Linda are in there together with more than twenty small children. That will limit our response, I hope.” I went looking for Captain Horn to learn what our next step was going to be.