State of Peril (State of Arizona Book 3)

by Doug Ball

  “Three boys that love their daddy very much will need you even more.”

  “Oh, shut up. You’re getting logical on me. But, yeah, you’re right. I just don’t want to lose her.”

  “We know. We’re on it with everything we’ve got. Chuck is trying to get the TV channels to move their choppers to watch for the car. Do you know how many silver gray Toyota’s are out there on our highways?”

  “Only looking for one, find it.”

  Chuck picked up the phone, “Got four choppers working right now. The paper license plate in the rear window will help. FAA at the airport has given them permission to drop lower than normal limits to check out a car if need be. Cameras along the Interstate are all working, except for one at the 101 and 202 interchange. It’s been out for a week. Scheduled repair is tomorrow. Extra people have been called in to monitor the cameras. Governor says we are to spare nothing to find Joan and Borrago.”

  “Okay, thanks a lot for your hard work. Let’s find this bastard. I’m headed in. Let’s get the girls all ready to travel. He’s 15 minutes late right now.” Tan put his phone in his shirt pocket and fired up the truck. The rumble and lope of the engine calmed him as he drove toward the Interstate and then the office. The truck was his baby. He had built it up over the years into the machine he wanted.

  #

  Antonio was crossing the border into Wyoming – he had decided to see the Tetons – when the radio station he was listening to broke into the news at the top of the hour. He listened, stunned as he heard of what his father was doing. The myriad of problems his father was causing rolled through his head as he wondered how they would affect him.

  #

  Borrago stopped the car in the far corner of a high school parking lot and popped the trunk lid. He got out and lifted the lid all the way before helping Joan get out of the trunk. She smelled like pee. “I am sorry you were in so long. There was no spot before this to move you into the seat in privacy.”

  Joan worked hard to stand up straight, walked to the far side of the car, and squatted. When she stood up, she moved back to face Borrago. “Mr. Borrago, you have kidnapped me, shoved me in the trunk of a car, allowed me to pee myself which hasn’t happened in many years, and now we stand in a school parking lot and you apologize for being an ass.” She slapped him with a roundhouse swing.

  He staggered against the car and was cocking his fist to return the favor when a car with three teenage boys drove into the lot. One of the boys yelled, “Need any help lady?”

  “Yeah. Come give this jerk a lesson in proper respect for a pregnant lady.”

  The car stopped suddenly. Two of the boys charged out of the doors before the tires stopped squealing and ran straight at Borrago. Borrago turned and ran. His car was blocked by the boys’ car. The third young man finally got the car in park and started to get out when he saw Borrago run out of the lot and into the street with two football players hot on his heels.

  The driver jammed the car in drive and stomped the gas. Out and around he went until he was barging into the flow of traffic going 15 mph for the school zone. He swerved to miss a van full of ladies from the church down the street and almost took out a light pole in the process.

  A car screeched to a halt as Borrago jumped in front of it, the driver laying on the horn. Borrago ran to the driver’s door, pulled it open, and threw the man out of his own car. The car started moving down the street as Borrago jumped behind the wheel and stomped the gas, the door being held open by the foot he didn’t have inside yet.

  Pushing the door, he got the foot clear and let the door come closed just as the teen’s car pulled in front of him. He nailed the kid in the front passenger door, stopping both cars.

  Borrago jumped out and did the same driver swap on a Ford Explorer in the next lane. The woman driver hit the pavement on all fours, scraping her knees terribly. One of the running boys stopped to help her up and get her out of traffic. The second runner stuck his arm through the passenger window on the Explorer and hung on and Borrago gained speed through a red light, nicking another small car with his left front bumper causing him to swerve to the right almost to the curb. The kid hanging in the window saw a light pole coming his direction and bailed out, rolling across the sidewalk and into a flower bed where the sign read, “Peaceful Hills – a neighborhood of friendly people.”

  Borrago stomped the gas as he looked at the mess he was leaving behind.

  26

  Joan had watched the whole thing and grew madder and madder. Another teenager ran past her trying to see what all the excitement was. “Hey, can I borrow your cell phone? I have been stranded and it feels like this baby is moving south.”

  The kid said, “Sure, Lady. Anything else I can do?”

  She called Tan as the sirens started blaring in the school buildings and way off in the distance.

  #

  Within 20 minutes the Explorer had been found in a strip mall parking lot. Police officers canvassed the stores looking for anyone who had seen anything around the Explorer or in the lot. In less than an hour it was found that another car had been taken from the lot, a small Hyundai that belonged to a clerk in the stockroom of one of the stores. The car was now on the hot sheet and every cop within 50 miles was looking for it.

  That wasn’t good enough, Borrago was 65 miles north on the Interstate making good time toward whatever was his next stop. The radio in the Hyundai wasn’t working so Armado Borrago didn’t know he was being looked for by everyone who listened to four of the top five radio stations in the Phoenix Metro area.

  Ten minutes later he was called in by a cowboy in a pickup that loved that country music. He called it in on his cell and prayed that they would quit interrupting the music with updates on the situation so he could hear his music. The 911 operator asked him to stay with the car until a police car arrived. He said, “Sure. Ain’t had much fun lately, anyhow. I’ll take him off the road if ya want me to.”

  “No, sir, just keep an eye on him and keep this line open.”

  He left his phone on speaker, tucked it in his shirt pocket, and was singing along with the music as he watched the little Hyundai roll three cars ahead of him heading north on I-17.

  Twenty minutes and 22 miles later a stealth car came up behind the cowboy and waved at him as he looked in the mirror at this idiot following so close. He waved back as the idiot dropped back and pulled into the left lane. The cowboy slacked off the gas and set the cruise at 65 for the rest of his journey. He was in no hurry.

  His phone yelled, “Hey, cowboy, you can hang up now and thanks for the serenade.”

  “You’re welcome, Ma’am. Anytime. Adios.” He hit end on the phone and cruised to the next exit in order to go back a few exits and drive on to the ranch north of Bumble Bee.

  Borrago was feeling trapped. This Interstate did not offer too many exits that led anywhere. He was in a stolen car and it was just a matter of time until someone spotted him. A green Hyundai can’t be that hard to find. The rear view mirror was getting a work out as was the scenery out as far as he could see. So far, nothing.

  He slowed as if to take the next exit. Two cars passed him, but the third one stayed behind him. He put on his turn signals, but the car behind him did not. He took the exit. So did the car behind him. He drove through the stop sign and rolled up the on ramp on the other side. The car behind him turned into the dead end road to the right at the stop sign.

  He had a tail he was sure.

  #

  Tan had heard the call for the tail on the radio shortly after he got Joan to the hospital. He was itching to take off and do bad things, real bad things to the man who had kidnapped, hurt, and forced his wife into the situation where she had to pee herself and then pee in an open parking lot. Joan wasn’t anything more than happy it was over. The doctor did a quick pelvic and ordered her into the delivery room.

  As they rolled her out, she said, “You go get that bastard, Tan. Give him a couple for me as he resists arrest. Any man that w
ould kidnap a woman in my condition oughta be hung from a low tree. One just high enough that his toes will touch the ground, but won’t lift him high enough so he doesn’t choke to death slowly as his feet get tired.”

  “I hear you, but I ought to stay here.”

  “I have borne you two sons. I think I can handle a daughter all by myself. Go!”

  “Yes, Dear.” He left, grabbing his ball cap and his radio from the chair. The truck just aimed north as Tan pulled down the visors with their red and blue lights before he triggered the siren up I-17 just as the rush hour traffic was getting started. He spent a lot of time on the right hand shoulder and at other times just plain intimidating folks to get out of his way.

  26

  By the time he hit New River he was flying low without a pilot’s license, weaving in and out between cars, on the shoulder, and, on one occasion, down the median.

  As the road cleared ahead of him after Black Canyon City he heard about the loss of the Hyundai by the tail car. Ten minutes later some local county Deputy Sheriff called in the theft of another car from a parking lot at the Burger King at the Camp Verde exit followed by a call from a Camp Verde Police car finding the Hyundai in the McDonalds two doors to the west. Dispatch identified the stolen car as a 2013 Ford Mustang, Orange with white stripe up the middle of the car. Owner went in for a quick bathroom break leaving his car running because of a dog in a cage in the back seat. Dog and car are now missing. Reward offered for dog.”

  Les cut in, “Find the stolen car, I don’t care about the dog. That is probably our man. 1 Sierra India 1 out.

  “1 Sierra India 1, who are you?”

  “Governor’s Office of Special Investigations. The man we seek was the leader of the dope traffic cartel. We raided his hacienda. He escaped. He is wanted for kidnapping my wife who is delivering a daughter as I speak. That man is mine. Find him.”

  “Wanna give us a description?”

  “You got the car info. Suspect is 55 or so. Five feet 11 inches tall. Dark, dark, and dark Mustache. Treat as armed and dangerous.”

  “10-4 - 1 Sierra India. 2Charley3 out.

  “All units the suspect car has not passed exit 285 to the south or 298 to the north.”

  Tan was baffled. His map showed very few ways out other than the Interstate. He figured north was the way to go so that’s the way he went.

  He was just passing the McGuireville exit when, “All units. Be advised a Cottonwood City Police cruiser has just reported the stolen car passing on 260 east of 89A. Units are setting up road blocks on 89A west of Centerville and 89A at Page Springs turnoff. Any units in vicinity of Cornville block Cornville road before Village cut off.”

  Tan swung his truck through the median and caught the turn off he had just passed. The truck pushed its limits every time Tan hit a pedal. He followed the signs saying ‘Cornville’ and watched the sun drop below the top of his windshield as his speedometer climbed rapidly to ridiculous on the narrow two lane road with more pot holes than pavement.

  As he passed the turn off to The Village of Oak Creek a streak of Orange went by going 90 plus in the opposite direction. The brake lights came on as the car began to make the turn to the village. Tan did a panic stop, turned to follow the Mustang as it accelerated toward the Village. Tan made the corner at 50 with a bit of gravel causing some fishtailing and a lot of rubber burning off as he punched the hot rod truck all the way to redline and past.

  The Mustang did not get any closer.

  Tan got on the radio and reported in. He needed a road block before the Village but everyone was moving in other directions. Roadblocks were quickly set up on the road back to the Interstate and on the road from Sedona to Cottonwood. The top of 89A at Slide Rock was blocked.

  Armado Borrago was boxed and didn’t know it. The problem was on the cop’s side. He could get into the Village and have his choice of different cars in minutes. In those minutes he could be gone, way outta sight.

  Tan did not like that idea. He was set to bring him down if it took the rest of his life. No man messes with his wife, or any woman in her condition, and drives away scot free. As he watched the Mustang took a side road and kicked up a dust cloud. Tan followed.

  The Mustang pulled onto two ruts that forked to the left and rushed toward a ridge line. The road turned to gravel and the dust cloud died. Tan followed as fast as he could and still stay on the road. He reached a high spot. No Mustang in sight.

  He stopped. Looked hard.

  Movement in the rearview mirror caught his eye as the rooster tail of dust built behind him going the other way. It took him a few long moments to find a turnaround spot and begin the chase again. Borrago was getting tricky in order to gain space and he had done that well.

  “All units. Subject Mustang is returning to Village road and may go back to Cornville.”

  Borrago turned left and continued on toward the Village. No roadblocks were in place to stop him, but two highway patrol vehicles were arriving, one at the Sedona end of 189 and one at the I-17 end. The I-17 roadblock was moving toward the Village as soon as Borrago’s direction was determined.

  Borrago drove like a crazy man. He knew there would be no amnesty, asylum, or immunity for him now. It was up to him to get to Canada and hide among the Hispanic community in some large city. He didn’t have a lot of options. “Damn, if I could just get rid of that idiot behind me. That truck is driven by one loco hombre. I, Burrago, will kill him if need be.” The radio in the Mustang played ‘Let It Go.’

  The Mustang turned left at the next intersection committing itself to the Village and then Sedona where a roadblock would stop a Mack truck. The road was closed off and cars were being routed around one end of the barricade where there was only barely room for a car. If that car was going much faster than 10 miles an hour it would end up in the creek. Only Borrago didn’t know that.

  The Mustang busted through the Village like it was not even there. Folks heard the roar of two big engines coming and got out of their way. Lights were ignored as the Orange car streaked through intersections with the Green truck hot on its rear bumper. Tan looked like a wild man with his hands glued to the steering wheel and Borrago, he looked as calm as could be. He had nothing more to lose except his life and right now he wouldn’t give it a chance of surviving the next five miles. But, he did.

  Borrago was sick of the mostly green truck hanging out behind him and looked for a way out of here. He said, “If I were the law, I’d have a road block up here a couple more miles at the 89A junction or maybe even sooner, at the bridge over the creek.” He was remembering the scene from a short second honeymoon he and his wife had taken ten years ago. “If I just stop and run, how far could I get? Two days on the run could make a big difference. There is an airport to the left on a plateau across the creek.”

  He saw the sign for ‘Chavez Crossing Group Campground’ pass on his right. The arrow on the sign pointed to the left. Barrago put the Mustang into a barely controlled skid that brought him sideways on the road right at the campground gate.

  The gate was locked. A sign said, ‘Entry by reservation only.’ “I don’t need this reservation stuff.” He jumped from the car and ran down the entry road.

  Tan had backed off a bit due to a school zone. The school was on his left overlooking the canyon of Oak Creek with the airport in view across the valley. He came over the crest of the ridge and started down the hill only to see the orange Mustang sideways in the road with its door hanging open.

  Motion to his left caught his attention. Borrago was running down the road into the locked campground. Tan grabbed the gear shift and slammed the clutch and brakes at the same time. The truck slid into the Mustang and carried both of them off the road taking out the sign for a resort hotel just past the camp entrance.

  Tan left the truck, gun in one hand and radio in the other. “Stop, Borrago. I don’t really want to kill you, but I will,” he yelled as he ran around the barricade and down the road after the kidnapper of his wife. Hi
s leg didn’t like running down hill at all.

  27

  Once on the flat at the bottom of the hill Tan took a look around trying to find the man. Rustling in the brush along the canyon wall to the south caught his ear and he started running past the concrete block outhouse onto a trail that followed along the cliff. After a couple hundred feet the trail worked its way down toward the last campsite along the creek.

  As he came out of the bushes, Borrago took a shot in Tan’s direction which clipped a limb off the scrub on his right side at waist level. Tan stopped and took careful aim, fired, and missed. “Damned hard to shoot well when you’re huffing and puffing.”

  Borrago ran through the rocks on the downstream end of the campground up one and down another as Tan tried to keep him in sight and run at the same time.

  Tan said, “This place is prime for ambushes,” as another shot rang out and a slug hit the tree next to the trail. Bark and splinters flew through the air. Tan did not return fire, ‘That’s hard to do when you are trying to dig a hole in a rock’ Tan thought.

  Borrago stopped at a high spot in the trail that went around a large boulder. He listened to the creek gurgling across rocks and swishing alongside the big boulder. He needed to be on the other side of the creek to get to the airport where he could steal a plane and get out of here, but right now he was restricted to this side. In order to cross he would have to put himself in the open for over a hundred feet, thirty of which would be through water with an uncertain bottom. He saw Tan moving carefully toward him.

  Tan saw the high spot in the trail and the brush beyond it and said, “Borrago, surrender to me now and I will try hard to get you to California and then send your women to join you.”

  Two 9 millimeter rounds were his answer. Neither of them hit anything as far as he could tell. He hit the ground again. The sound of running feet fluttered through the trees. He got up and ran uphill to the top and saw Borrago turn the corner around another large boulder a hundred feet further down the path. In the background he heard sirens, police and fire. Fire meant ambulance and if he kept going much longer on his bum leg, he would need one. The sound of a chopper winding up came from the airport to his right.