State of Defense (State of Arizona Book 1)

by Doug Ball

  Circles of dancers began on every open space available. “It seems that each tribe is trying to out do every other tribe with energy and noise.” The Governor was an observant gal.

  Her husband nodded at her comment with his eyes roaming all over searching for danger to the woman he loved. “Looks like a party in your honor, my love.”

  Josie pulled out her cell phone and began a video record while thinking, ‘If I can be the only one for a while, I can make a buck selling the video. Might even be time for an auction.’

  Just as everyone was settling down to enjoy the spectacle, over a hundred horsemen with feathers, bows, arrows, various other weaponry flashing, came flying around the end of the building, across the entry and slid to a stop in front of the startled Governor. No guns were in sight except the two bodyguards facing the Indians, each crouched, guns out and ready for anything and hoping for nothing.

  “Hold your fire,” said a wrinkled old man whose voice was heard all over in spite of the cacophony of the drums. He sat in the following silence on a beautiful Appaloosa, all glossy black with a white spotted rump, looking down at the Governor.

  National Guard troops moved in around the crowd of natives with their weapons holstered or in otherwise non-threatening positions. A Major ran to the Governor to stand beside her. He took one look, and seeing no guns with the natives ordered loud and clear. “Company, attention.” Each of the troops snapped to.

  The flags of the United States and Arizona were presented and posted as prescribed by the U. S. Army Manual for Flags.

  “Order arms.” Every long weapon was set butt to the ground.

  “Stand at ease.” The men spread their legs slightly and put their left hand behind their backs. “Color Company reporting as ordered, Governor.” The Major snapped a sharp salute and held it until the Governor spoke.

  “Stand easy, Major. We are amongst friends here.”

  The old Indian said, “You are very astute, Ma’am.”

  “Please do not call me, Ma’am, Sir. I prefer Governor. It is who I am at times like this. And, who might you be, Sir?”

  “I am a Shaman, the Spirit of Arizona’s Tribes. We come to salute you and the entire Legislature for seeing us as people and not as wards. This is our celebration of freedom. Will you join me as we observe each tribe and hear their words?”

  He clapped his hands and a horse even more beautiful than his was brought by a teenage boy of the Navajo Nation who handed her the reins and cupped his hands for her to mount. The horse was a startling red with black and white spots on its entire back. The boy shook his cupped hands to bring her mounting to her mind.

  “Will you wait for a moment please?” She ran inside to her office. In moments she was out of her tight business suit and into a pair of well-cut jeans and a blouse with vertical ruffles. As she ran down the stairs she realized she was barefoot except for her pantyhose. ‘Oh well, who will care? I have either totally insulted them or they will not care,’ she thought as she ran out to accept the young man’s offered step. She was met with loud cheers and applause. She sat straight up and gathered the reins slowly moving alongside the Spirit man.

  The Spirit and the Governor rode from one group to the next, smallest tribe to the largest, hearing their greetings and thanks. It seemed what she had done with the clothes change was just the right thing. Each tribal leader rode forward and greeted her in his or her native tongue and then in English, all were smiling, friendly, and proud of who they were and what they represented.

  The last tribe was the Navajo, the largest tribe in the U.S. and most of their reservation was in her jurisdiction. “Governor, we thank you. You have given us freedom. It will be hard, but we will be successful in our new role in Arizona. I am sorry for some of my people.” He turned and rode away slowly, with dignity.

  It was then she realized two things. She said to the Spirit, “Each of these tribal leaders has a dignity and obvious feeling of pride that has not been there before in any of my dealings with the tribes. I also have no idea what the Navajo Chairman meant by his apology for his people.”

  The Spirit smiled, “Many of us offer you an apology for some of our people. You will learn why soon enough. We will not spoil this, here, now.” He dismounted.

  She began to dismount.

  “No, Governor, that horse is your horse, a present from all the tribes. This horse I have used is for your man.” He walked the horse and gave her husband the reins, “Ride beside your woman, you are a wise man to marry such a woman.”

  Art took the reins and like a young buck swung aboard the Appy, looked to the Spirit, “Thank you, sir. It will be my pleasure to ride with my wife on this horse. I have never seen better looking horses.” He paused before adding, “My wife is thanking you also, I can tell from her smile. That smile has not been on her face in many days. Thank you again.” He turned the horse and trotted to his wife’s side.

  Josie’s phone rang. Stopping the video, she answered. As she hung up she ran to the Governor. “Governor, 75 Native Americans have blown the road to the Snowbowl in Flagstaff making it impassable and are setting the buildings there on fire. The Flagstaff news chopper on the scene says he sees cutting torches at work on the base of the first tower for the ski lift. They are destroying the facilities there.”

  The Governor looked around, “Now I know.” She nodded to the Spirit and shrugged her shoulders. “Major, I need to chat with you.”

  The Major looked up from his position beside her, “I’ll get on it and get back to you in ten minutes, no later.”

  She smiled, “Great.”

  The TV vans arrived.

  10:50 AM

  The General’s chopper arrived in the Tumacacori parking lot. He joined the pilot and crew chief in a walk around after the blade had stopped turning. It had a few new holes in it after skimming Rio Rico Airport and the troops moving slowly up I-19. Old helicopter, new holes, time he got another one anyhow. He was happy with all he saw and planned on moving more harassing troops in positions he had spotted. ‘Of course, plans change moment by moment,’ he reminded himself.

  The harassing Arizona troops were doing a great job of slowing the Mexican army down. They found that asphalt does wonderful things to .223 slugs when they ricochet, deformed slug and rock fly in all directions. The wounds are nasty and bleed profusely requiring immediate attention by the Mexican medics. Two and three men were required to carry each of the wounded to the rear. After only a few miles the Mexicans began stashing the wounded in culverts and any shade, skimpy at best if it could be found, and leaving a medic with each group. The dead and dying were just left.

  Arizona’s long range snipers using .50’s plinked away at the flanks from over 1,000 meters away with truck engines being prime targets along with officers. Mexican skirmishers were sent out to silence the weapons on the flanks only to find empty firing positions or more troops than they wanted to tackle.

  Just to the south on I-19

  One Mexican Corporal asked a Sergeant of the 1st Army of Mexico, “Why these Yanquis do not stand and fight?”

  The Sergeant’s reply was, “Oh, they will. They most assuredly will and then it will be time to fight like you have never fought before, compadre. They are fighting for a cause. We are attacking because El Presidente’ is no longer in control of his office. Between you and me, he was never in control, the cartels were. We are now fighting for the cartels.”

  “If I had known that, I could have signup with them and make real good money, no?”

  “Si. Very good money. For now, just keep walking. Stay in the medio for protection from the snipers and fewer ricochets.”

  “Bueno.”

  33

  11:00 AM

  The second line was built just over the crest of the rise on the reverse slope. Local rock and dirt were piled high as a ditch was dug until the average person could shoot standing up just over the crest with no danger of hitting the front line. By 1100 over 30,000 men and women were in well-built
positions and more were arriving, all awaiting the arrival of the Army of Mexico.

  The Arizona National Guard General walked impatiently along the dug in lines with Captain Cartright a half step behind. “Will you get up here alongside me, Captain? I do not like men walking with me that I cannot see. Too many espionage books I guess.”

  “Sure thing, General.”

  A Radioman came running to catch up just as the Captain’s radio chick reported, “That cute Major reports that we are at over 30,000 troops and more are pouring in. He estimates that we will have 35,000 by noon. Ammo supplies are adequate for 48 hours of intense combat. Food is another story. Most units left their MRE thingees to keep their loads light.

  “That reconstruction guy,” she fumbled with the word, “reconnoitering guy reports approximately 600 enemy troops still moving toward us from the west and up I-19 there are about 13,000 still walking our way.

  “He also reports that both units look very tired and should be. They have fought and walked since 13 o’clock yesterday and it is 100 degrees in the shade and danged little shade. He expects the enemy to rest for a while, you know like get a nap, before they attack.

  “That’s all, guys.” Having concluded her report she began flirting with the General’s Radioman.

  “You know something, young lady; I find it amazing that I understood every word you said.” The General laughed out loud as his own Radioman repeated the same information in the technical Army terminology. The General replied, “Thank you, but I think she makes more sense.”

  “Cuter, too,” said the Captain.

  The Radioman nodded his agreement, raising an eyebrow.

  “Captain, I don’t think there is a damned thing more we can do.”

  “Except pray,” said the priest walking up behind them.

  “Yes, Father, we can pray. Have you been with the troops and civilians lined up out here?”

  “Yes, General Rios. I have walked the two front lines from one end to the other talking with individuals and praying. The Captain has done a great job of setting up this defense.”

  “You’re right about that, Padre.”

  To the south

  The Mexican 1st Army General walked north on I-19 as fast as he could, advancing on the lead units of his lines. As he walked he noted the tiredness of the men. He also noted a reluctance to move forward in their attitude. Stepping up to a man near him, he asked, “Are you ready to fight, Corporal?”

  The Corporal looked at his feet before saying, “My feet are burning from the tar. My hand is frozen to this rifle. My canteen is empty. My stomach is empty. I am exhausted. But, yes, if you so order, Mi General, I will fight.” He stopped walking and turned to the General. “I fear it will not be a good fight, though, my heart is not in it.”

  “You are that tired, Corporal?”

  “Si, mi General. I would fight much stronger and longer with a meal, water, and a two hour siesta. If I may ask you why we are here? It makes no sense to me.”

  “El Presidente’ has so ordered, Corporal. I follow orders.

  “As do I, mi general, but I also would temper my following with some reasoning if I were in your boots. Is it wrong for Arizona to close the border? Ours is closed to them. They just ship us back. We put people who cross illegally in prison for five years. It does not make sense, but I will fight.”

  “Your point is well taken and makes some sense, Corporal. Not many men in our army would have commented openly as you have, you are now a Sergeant. If we survive, I will personally present you with your stripes tomorrow.” The General turned to his aide and said, “Stop the advance. Move off the road. Two hours of rest, food, and water distribution. Check ammunition, distribute as necessary. Notify the Colonel to our west that we will attack at 1400 hours. He will hear the bugle.”

  “Si, mi General, as you say.” The aide marched off to confer with the Captains and Sergeants.

  On the Arizona side

  “General Rios, the long range listening post just reported that the Mexicans will be resting until 1400 hours. Then they are gonna attack together with the troops from the west.”

  “Thanks, Julie.”

  “Okay, what should we do now, Captain?”

  The Captain didn’t even blink, “I think we should hit both units with everything we can get into position as soon as possible. If possible, compress them together and surround them. They will surrender soon enough when they are getting killed no matter which direction they turn.”

  “Okay, Captain, 1330 attack time. Let’s get folks moving as invisibly as possible.”

  The moving began.

  The General broke off from the group and called the Governor.

  “Well, hello, General. How goes the war? Sounds like hit and run is still the order of the day on the radio.”

  “Yes, my lady, we hit and they run, right at us, but each time they lose men and expend ammo. We have cut off their supply lines so all they have is what they carry unless they land a plane in Rio Rico and I have two stinger squads there to stop that idea.”

  “So, when do you expect the big move, or do you expect one?”

  The General stopped for a minute and took a drink from the cup offered to him by his aide. “The Mexicans will be attacking our position at 1400, or so we think. We have a bit of a surprise for them which I will not discuss over the cell net. Never fear, my lady, we will make serious inroads into winning this war by sundown. If we continue into tomorrow, I will be surprised or dead, which will also surprise me.”

  “It would sadden me, General.”

  “It is not in my plan, but in this business one never knows.”

  “How many casualties on our side?”

  “Governor, I really do not know. I have doctors and nurses, medics and just plain helpful folks all over the place transporting, caring for, and operating on our troops. There are wounded who have been transported as far as Phoenix and many in Tucson and the surrounding areas. There are at least ten who are being cared for in private homes that just happened to be the closest place with room to lay them down. All ten of those are safe and stable. How many more we have still lying in the field, being cared for by a buddy, or just plain missing, I have no idea.

  “I do know that we have over 30,000 folks, troops and civilians, here ready to fight. Two Phoenix transit buses just dropped off loads of folks looking angry, scared, and carrying guns to join this mob of ours. We have groups of experienced combat vets, as many as thirty strong, being led by our non-coms getting set for some pretty heavy action around here. All of these people, men and women, will be called upon to give it all they have in just a couple more hours.

  “Does that answer your questions, Boss?”

  “Yes it does, General. I’ll get off this phone and let you win the war in a moment. One last thing, rumor has it that the federal base commanders are talking on secure phones to each other and the Department of Defense, Joint Chiefs. What that means, I know not, but it could be something very beneficial to Arizona.”

  “I will pray they will provide assets, we can use them. Just pray they do not stand with the Mexicans. Until next time, my lady.”

  “I will pray. Do not fight American troops, General.” She hung up and sat down heavily wondering how many more would die because of her decisions and new policies. It just did not feel right that something bringing so much good should cause so much death and destruction.

  The General turned back to his men. On the ground before them were maps of the area. A Colonel, who had just arrived, was expounding on a frontal attack down the highway and a quarter mile on each side. Two Majors, who had arrived with the Colonel, were toying with the idea of wait and hit them hard from the flanks when they started moving forward.

  Captain Cartright stood with three wizened Sergeants pointing at various features of the terrain with a stick and pointing out the humps and bumps to the east and west of the highway.

  Finally, the Captain said, rather loudly, “Excuse me, Sirs, we can mo
ve the right third of the front two lines down this wash and behind these hills, they will be to the north of the Sasabe group and if that group moves to join the General they can move in on their flank. The left third can peel off up this cut to the east and get behind and on the east flank the Nogales group. If we took our experienced guys and gals and trotted them around both ways and keep them going they could be behind both groups in time.” The rest of the officers looked at him and stared at the maps again.

  The Colonel said, “I like it.”

  The Majors nodded.

  The General said, “Let’s do it.”

  When the General turned to a map, the Colonel started throwing orders around. The General calmly said, “Colonel, Captain Cartright is in charge of the front line. Your task is logistics. We need food and an aid station right over there as soon as possible.” He pointed to a spot on the map less than 500 meters to the left rear of the lines.”

  Looking at one of the Majors, he said, “I need you to make sure we have enough transport to do whatever we need with casualties.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The other Major was left standing.

  “What’s the status of the Mexican troops right now?”

  One Sergeant stepped up, “General, they are lying down resting. We can detect only three or four observation posts that are very relaxed in front of their lines out of sight of our present location. Bottom line, they are napping and nobody is keeping an eye on us. There are those of their troops that stand up and stretch, look around, relieve themselves, and return to their nap from time to time. That’s it.”

  The sound of a helicopter broke the silence of the countryside.

  The General looked up, “Who is that?” He lifted the binoculars hanging around his neck. “Looks like a TV station traffic watch chopper.

  “Yup, that’s what it is. There’s two more coming behind this one.”

  The remaining Majors said, “If they broadcast video or even word of our movements, it will be impossible to surprise and surround the Mexican forces.”