State of Defense (State of Arizona Book 1)

by Doug Ball

  Arivaca

  5:30 AM

  The General’s cell phone buzzed. The window said ‘Governor’. “Yes, Governor. How may I assist you this day, dear lady?”

  “Knock it off, General. You can kick some major Mexican buttocks if you will, please.” Her voice trembled with emotion and concern for the men of Arizona.

  “My Lady, I have every intention of doing so with a vigor.” There was a genuine sense of excitement in his voice. “We are outnumbered at most points two to one and in the Nogales region at least three to one. More veterans are pouring in at the Tucson armory than I would have imagined were available. A Viet Nam vet from Tennessee showed up this morning in a cab from the Phoenix airport, said he wasn’t going to miss one more fight if he had any choice. He is at a firing point a thousand meters from the border sharing the spot with two untried privates. I can only imagine the stories he is telling them.” He laughed good and hard.

  “Stay safe, my friend.”

  “I have already played it dangerous. My chopper and I did a recon run of the Nogales to Sasabe border area. The Mexicans have not brought up anything heavy. Most of their troops are not the experienced men, as we were told by one of the prisoners, but green kids in brand new uniforms. Many of the weapons appear to be old and the stock piles of ammo just aren’t very big. The other side of it is that trucks are arriving all the time with something, hopefully it’s just food and geegaws.”

  “Not much need for geegaws on a battle field like that, is their General?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good hunting.”

  “I’ll be in touch. You do have a radio to monitor don’t you?”

  “Yes, if I get a chance to listen.”

  “Goodbye for now.”

  The General ended the call at his end before yelling, “Major, make sure all commanders and leaders get the word, “No one fires a shot until the Mexicans cross the border or they confirm they were fired upon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Governor’s Office

  5:45 AM

  The Hawk and Anthony White came through the office door each with a bag in one hand and a donut in the other. Tony White set his bag down on the Governor’s desk, “Here ya go, gal gov, have a donut and a cup of coffee, ooops tea, on us,” and promptly dropped in a chair.

  The Hawk opened his bag and handed Tony a coffee and sat himself down next to Tony. “You wanted to see us this morning, O Great One.”

  “Knock it off, you two. The paparazzi might tape this conversation and we’d all be seen as reasonably normal individuals. That would ruin our reputations totally, don’t ya think. Thanks for the tea and donut.”

  “There’s another donut in the bag for each of us, just in case this meeting drags out and we need some energy.”

  They all sipped and chomped as gracefully as possible in the business suits they were wearing, it just wouldn’t do to have jelly down the front of one’s tie, until the Governor finally started the watermelon rolling, “It has been suggested that we allow each of the tribes that should so desire to become their own county with the borders of the reservation defining the borders of the county. What do you think?”

  “We tried that with Apache County back in Babbitt’s day. He vetoed it. I take it you would not veto a bill like that.”

  “Nope, wouldn’t do it.” Her head shook back and forth.

  The Hawk asked, “Would the tribes buy into it? That still doesn’t make them sovereign nations as they wish to be. The Apaches have already declared themselves an independent nation or at least a state unto themselves. What’s the Fed going to say?”

  “I really don’t care what the Fed says. Those tribes are in Arizona on Federal land, if the Fed doesn’t like it they will have to step in and put down the rebellion. The Fed would have to acknowledge our privilege as a state in order to step into this.” She finished her second donut and licked her fingers before taking a sip of her tea.

  “I think it is worth a try. How do you want to do it?” Tony asked.

  “We take it to the Senate and the House this morning as an emergency bill before the war to the south gets too heated and takes up all the attention spans in the building, ours included. In order to pass the courts it will have to be voluntary on the part of the tribes.” Hawk was always on the lookout for a bill to cover all bases and make it pass the courts, the 9th Circuit in particular.

  “Well, Gentlemen, why don’t you go get writing, button holing, and voting, and let me get busy with the important stuff?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like calling my husband and asking him to take me to breakfast in an hour or so.”

  The three of them laughed and went their separate ways.

  The Governor sat and enjoyed her tea, her mind reeling with all that was going on. How in the world had she gotten into this mess, anyhow? Indians rebelling, war with Mexico, and many of the Hispanics of Arizona very unhappy with her was more than she bargained for when she stepped into politics. “But, oh how I love it! Sure does beat sitting at home watching soaps and washing dirty clothes, or even hanging with the ladies’ out to lunch groups,” she said to the ceiling fan as she finished her tea.

  “Josie, you here yet?”

  No response.

  Nogales Border

  Forward units of the Arizona Guard watched as the Mexican Army units moved to the border fence east and west of the town. The 2010 census put Nogales at 20,000 folks, but that was just the north side of the border. The south side, also known as Nogales, had almost 200,000 people over a much greater area. In the middle was the fence. The fence ran from the Pacific Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico. In some places is was a formidable wall, while in others it was nothing more than barbed wire trying to hang onto old wooden posts, neither style was going to stop an army for more than a moment or two.

  From the disposition of the troops it was obvious that the Mexican Army had no intention of attacking through the two cities which made the Arizona troops more than happy. They had no desire to bring civilians into the equation and they were not prepared for house to house fighting. The Arizona Commander ordered two quick changes in the positioning of his troops and watched as troops moved rapidly to their new locations. “At least they listen and follow directions. Let’s hope they can fight and fight well.” He said to no one and everyone within hearing.

  To the west at Arivaca, the General was getting reports from all along the border stating the same thing, the Mexicans had moved to the line, but not an inch further. “Comms, tell all units to hold fire unless fired upon or an armed individual crosses the border and then only at the individual. Make sure any shots fired are in our direction before returning fire.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The waiting is always the hardest part.

  Phoenix

  Crazy Man Ted and Rusty travelled through the homes of the homeless along the Salt River near the 202 and 101 interchange moving east on the two ruts created by the police trying to keep the homeless from camping in the area, their efforts usually working for about two days and then the homeless moved back in. With the economic downturn entire families had moved into the area and the makeshift homes were more abundant than ever and would be abandoned as jobs opened up. They were looking for one man and only one man, an old friend of Rusty’s.

  “What’s this guy gonna do for us? Tell me again.”

  “He used to be a bootlegger and gun runner. He would run guns to Mexico and sell them to the cartels, haul the dope he got paid with back into the US, take the money he got from the dope and buy booze, haul the booze onto the reservations and trade for cash or guns. He usually made a profit on each transaction. He quit a couple months ago due to heavy pressure at the border and on the reservations. He knows everything there is to know about the politics of each of the big reservations better that the politicians do. Last I heard, two weeks ago, he was hiding down here somewhere. We’ll know his place when we see it, there is always a Native US flag flying from
his place, if not flying it will be plastered on some part of the structure.”

  “Native US flag?”

  “Yeah, the one with the Indian head in the middle of the US flag. He brags that flag was his idea to begin with and someone stole his idea.”

  “You mean like that one over there?” Ted pointed at the cardboard and tarp mansion among the mesquite and tall weeds on the far side of the riverbed.

  “That would be it.”

  Ted stopped the car, took his 9mm from the front seat and tucked it in his pants in the small of his back, and got out of the rent-a-junker RAV4. “Let’s go see the man.” The two of them walked boldly across the riverbed like they belonged there. The old RAV4 was part of their cover. No one would think a cop would be driving a heap like that.

  Calling out, “Anybody home?” as was the custom among the river bottom mansion crowd, they got no response.

  They called out again as they moved closer.

  No response.

  “Now what? We can’t just stick our head in and say hello.”

  “That’s what we do. The custom down here is if no one is home you are allowed to enter and make yourself at home, but you don’t eat any of the man’s food or drink his water. If you are desperate you may take one cup of water, but you have to pay back a gallon. Water is a scarce commodity and a long haul from here.” Rusty finished as he pulled back the flap of tarp that had to be the door.

  “Oh, crap!” He backed out fast almost knocking Crazy Man down in the process.

  “What?”

  “He’s dead in a pool of blood. His throat is cut.”

  “Let’s take a look at his stuff. Don’t step in the blood.” Ted pushed past Rusty and entered.

  Rusty was absolutely correct, Tommie lay dead in a large pool of blood on the sandy floor. What few possessions the man had were scattered all over the place. Two full gallon bottles of water stood against the far wall next to three empty plastic jugs. Clothes were thrown in a corner with a few paperback books mixed in the pile. There was nothing else in the space except a cheap sleeping bag on an old folding chair facing the side wall.

  “That’s strange. The chair is facing the wall. I don’t see any marks of it being elsewhere in the room. Even with all the scuffed tracks in this place, I would think they would show. Why facing the wall?”

  Rusty lifted the tarp beyond the chair to reveal a plastic box one would put 3 by 5 cards in. “What’s this?”

  He picked it up.

  Inside were a hundred or so cards. Each card written on. Some had just a name and phone number, while others contained dates and product involved. “It’s his records. Every transaction and every person is listed. Someone was looking for this after they killed him. Let’s get out of here.”

  Ted turned and walked calmly out of the mansion, followed by the somewhat less than calm, Rusty. “Settle down, Rusty. We walk out the way we walked in, so everyone watching, if anyone is watching, will see us leaving calmly and not like a couple of killers or finders of valuable information. What we got may just be a lot of answers. Walk!”

  They walked.

  They reached the RAV4 and opened the doors. As Ted was getting behind the wheel, a Suburban with dark tinted windows appeared a couple hundred yards behind them. It was coming fast, fishtailing on the corners, and catching air on the humps. Crazy Man shouted, “Hang on,” as he stuck the key in the ignition, fired up the beat up junker, and stomped the gas after finding first gear.

  He was quickly going too fast also.

  “Hey, this thing’s got some guts. How do we get out of here without going back the way we came?”

  “Straight ahead. It gets real rocky just over this next rise and there’s a sharp left that will lead up to Beeline Highway. A left there will get you back on the way to town.”

  “Gotcha. Call 911 on my phone,” Ted handed Rusty the phone, “and give them my name. Report the murder of Tommy boy back there. Then tell them we are being chased by that big monstrosity behind us.”

  “Hey, I can do that. Got a plate on the Suburban?”

  “No front plates in Arizona. It does have writing on the side, but I can’t make it out. Hang on!” The RAV4 hit the rocky stretch going way too fast and bounced itself ragged. Ted saw the left coming up and wondered if he had enough traction to make the curve.

  He made it on the outside edge of his right tires and pressed the gas pedal to the floor as he straightened out. “How far? I don’t see Beeline.”

  “Half a mile or so. 911 operator wants us to return to the scene of the murder.”

  “If they get this bunch off my tail I’ll be happy to comply. Look out, someone has their hand out of the window and the hand has a gun in it.” The rear window and the windshield exploded scattering glass fragments all over the two of them.

  “Okay, lady, we just got shot at, both the front and rear windows are gone. I will hang up now and return fire. Send us bigger guns.”

  Rusty hit ‘end’ and grabbed the AR15 from the back seat. The magazine bounced all over the place as he tried to load and lock the rifle. Finally it fell into place. He jerked the charging lever back and let it go. Turning in the seat, he lined up the sights as best he could and pulled the trigger four times deafening both of them. “So much for hearing.”

  “Yeah, how about you stick that thing out the side window?”

  “Can’t see the sights then.”

  “So, shoot. Don’t talk.”

  The highway was in sight not a hundred yards ahead as the AR15 belched lead again. Rusty watched as the windshield on the Suburban turned into little diamonds of glass, but did not come apart. The heavy vehicle drifted rapidly off the two ruts and into a sand wash three feet deep, stopping quickly with its front bumper buried in the far bank. Two men got out and staggered away toward the riverbed.

  Crazy Man took the corner onto Beeline Highway going way too fast and used all four lanes to straighten the rent-a-junker, which was now truly just junk, into the far side lane where he brought the vehicle down to the speed limit and cruised back toward the metro area.

  25

  Tuesday

  18 June

  Governor’s office

  9:00 AM

  The Governor sat behind her desk, a cup of tea in her hand, praying. Her face was contorted with multiple emotions. She asked for peace, peace, and more peace for Arizona, and better leadership in the entire political realm, including herself. Her reforms were working, why couldn’t anybody outside of the state see that? The unemployment rate was the lowest the nation had ever documented. Welfare rolls were beginning to reflect the real need in the state, rather than the blatant feeding of the masses. The border crossings were almost nil, there was evidence of a small number of people crossing, mostly in ones and twos. Only a dozen or so drug runners had died and over a hundred had been caught.

  There were still the Native American tribes’ issues of sovereignty and respect. Schools still had problems, but those were being dealt with by teams from the schools, homes, and industries on a daily basis. There were still jobs available and folks were moving into the state to fill them. Revenue was way up and the budget was way down. Hospitals were happy. Law enforcement was happy. First responders were happy. Some of the Hispanic population were still unhappy, but the number was less than 30%. Legitimate workers crossing the border had finally been sorted out and the ones who had jobs were making it to work with minimal delay, at least they were until the Mexican Army blocked all the crossings from their side of the border.

  The big fly in the healing salve was the Mexican Army was still at the border tearing down fence, positioning men and equipment, and generally getting ready for war.

  She took a sip of her tea. Cool. She didn’t even like iced tea, let alone cool. Tea was supposed to be hot. Into the microwave it went.

  “Josie, let’s get to work.” She got up off her chair, walked into Josie’s office, plopped herself down in a chair against the wall usually filled with someone wh
o wanted a favor from the Governor, and said, “Contact all the reservation leaders and ask them if they and/or other responsible representatives from their tribe or tribes can join me for dinner at four this afternoon. Get a head count before two, please. At 9:30, let’s you and I take a walk and join the legislative sessions in progress. We’ll just stop in and be seen. Got that?”

  Josie finished writing on her pad and looked up, “Sounds like another fun day in paradise, Governor. Whatcha gonna do about the war thing?”

  “Tough it out. Call a news conference for eleven, please. We’ll let the media be our communicators with the Mexican government.” She had a sly grin on her face as she stood to go.

  “One other thing, if all hell breaks loose, figure out where we can hide.”

  “You won’t hide, Governor. You’ll organize a bucket brigade and then stomp out the fire.”

  The Governor laughed, “Thanks, I needed that.”

  The two of them went to work.

  South of the Border

  “Hombres,” the Mexican General began, “we have been called upon by El Presidente’ to liberate the lands the Yanqui Gringos took from us so many years ago. In doing this we will begin the taking of all lands the Estados Unitos took from us. Your men are ready. You are ready. We will strike fear into the hearts of the Gringos as our people north of the border join us in this fight. Our people will welcome us with great joy.

  “To the north!

  “Libertad por Arizona. Por Mexico.”

  The reply left much to be desired as the officers in the room returned his call, “Por Mexico.”

  One Captain asked, “Mi General, you have changed the plan, how can this be that we attack through the middle of the town full of civilians? Why do we not attack on the open desert and rush for Phoenix or at least Tucson?”

  “The people of Nogales will join us when they see our power. The Mexican people of Arizona only await our return to the land to make it a part of Mexico. Many of those in Nogales will rise up and join us.”