by Doug Ball
Abdul asked, “Ain’t they some chemical that turns purple or something when in contact with hemogobulins or something like that?”
“Yeah. Let’s call the PD and see what comes up.”
Abdul pulled his phone and began searching the contacts list.
Patagonia
Tan slid into the booth in the back corner near the men’s room. Right after he sat down a thought came to him. He punched his speed dial,
“Arizona National Guard, Phoenix, Major Whitley speaking, how may I help you?”
“This is Les Brown from the Governor’s office. I’d like to speak to General Rios.”
“He is unavailable at this time. May I take a message?”
“Well Major, you may be the man to help me then.”
“I’m the only one here today, so that seems logical.”
Tan went into what was going on and then said, “What would be needed to get some of your troops setting up observation points along the border in order to look out for some killers before they kill or at least detour the illegal activities?”
“An order from the Governor and lots of money from the budget, which the Governor is not inclined to do from all I know.”
“Got any other way you can think of?”
“Not legally.”
“How about marginal, on the line, stretching it a bit?”
The Major took a deep breath, “I could have the top shirt ask for volunteers. There might be a few that have nothing else to do.”
“I have the authority to deputize and make them legal law enforcement. No pay. No benefits. Me for a boss.”
“Tan, I know who and what you are. I’ll let the top shirt know tonight. We have a training coming up and most of the men will be here. The General will also be here. I am sure he will encourage participation. Anything else we can do for you, sir?”
“Not a thing, Major. I know of you, also. Be safe and thanks.”
“You’re welcome. You be safe yourself. From what I know you don’t do that well.”
They exchanged numbers.
Tan laughed and said, “Good bye, Major.”
“Good bye, Mr. Investigator.”
The waitress saw that he was no longer on the phone and walked to his table. Having been a waitress in this establishment for the last 14 years she knew a stranger when she saw one. Not being single, she walked like a lady carrying the menu with her. “What will you have to drink, sir?”
“How about the biggest coke you have?”
“Coming right up. Our specials for today’s lunch are a red beef burrito or green corn tamales, either for six ninety five. Beans and rice on the side.”
“Thank you.” He looked at the menu as she returned to the bar to get the coke.
She returned with two cokes. “This being the biggest glass we have, I brought two. You looked thirsty.”
She sat the two glasses down. “Have you decided what you want yet?”
“Yeah, I’ll have the enchilada plate, no beans, and no sour cream.”
“Enchilada plate, no beans, and no sour cream. Would you like double rice?”
“Sounds good, yes.”
“Comin’ right up.”
As he watched her walk away, he noticed a small man, maybe five feet six or seven, come through the door looking like he was new to the place and didn’t know what to expect. The man’s head was covered with silver hair and he couldn’t have weighed in at over 140 pounds. His head swiveled until his view caught Tan in the corner.
The man walked to Tan and said, “You waiting for someone, sir?”
“Yes. A military man that is a hero of Arizona.”
“I’m military, but no hero. The heroes are all buried. I’m just a patriot, Mr. Brown, just a patriot.”
“Please be seated, Captain Carter of the Militia for America.” Tan said as he handed him the menu the waitress had not taken from him. “Make your choice. The State of Arizona is buying.”
“Why, thank you.” He sat down and began perusing the menu. “Ever eat here before?”
“No. First time. Hopefully the beginning of a lovely relationship. I spend a lot of time in this neck of the woods it seems and a good meal is a plus.”
“Never been here, myself. Passed through the town in the War for Arizona, but didn’t stop.”
The captain looked at the menu as the waitress trotted to the table. “What can I get you to drink, sir.”
“Water and a beer, maybe a Bud Lite.”
“Yes, sir, coming right up.”
She left and Tan slugged down the first of his cokes.
The captain said, “How many men you want?”
“How many you got? You don’t waste time with small talk do you?”
“No value in it. I lost a lot of good men in our little war down here. Recruitment went up after the shooting ended and everybody went home, vertical or horizontal. I have almost double the number of troops, better armed, more uniformly armed with same caliber guns, better trained, and better led. I learned a lot from that shoot out.”
“I’ll bet. I got to do my shooting up north in Flagstaff.”
“I heard about you.”
The waitress came to the table with the beer and asked, “What’ll ya have?”
“Since Arizona is buying, I’ll have the ribeye, fries, and a salad. Forget the coleslaw and beans. Blood rare, please.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else for either of you?” she asked turned her eyes from one to the other.
“No.”
“Not right now,” said Tan.
She left with the new order.
“Ninety-five percent of my men are veterans from the field of battle. They have smelled the gunpowder and seen the dragon. They’ll all do to ride the river with, as Louis L’Amour would say. I would trust each of them with my life, but not with my wife. They are all men, except for the six women we have, and I don’t trust them with the men.”
“Sounds good. How long would it take you from right now to have 200 troops on the ground right here?”
“Five hours.” The captain did not even hesitate. “I make one call, he makes ten calls, each makes ten calls and the next set of calls covers them all. You want them?”
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Tan hesitated. Took a drink from the second glass. “Not yet.”
Frank sat back in his seat as his drinks came.
“Your meals will be right up.” The waitress turned and walked away. She was experienced enough to know when men want to talk to a woman and when they want to be left alone.
“Let’s eat and then talk about what I want. How’s that?” Tan had his answer and wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Men were available, but how far would 200 troops go is resolving the issue at hand? He sipped his coke as the captain took a deep slug of his beer.
“Have you had any of your men solicited for a special unit of some kind?”
“Two left after the war to work with BlackEagle Security. One other left about two months ago to take a job in the Carolinas as head of security for some rich man’s property on the sea. Many of us wanted to go with him; carry his bags and all that. Recently, nothing I know, but I can ask around.”
Tan looked him in the eye and said, “Let me tell you what we have going on down here.”
An hour later with the dirty, empty plates taken away, Frank on his second beer, and Tan wondering if he wanted the dessert, Frank patted his extended gut and said, “Good ribeye. I think my men are ready for what you need. We have some sound gear, but not enough by a long shot. We can set up two man forward observer posts. We can communicate on our own frequencies. The comms will not be secure, BUT we have learned from the code talkers of WW2 and developed our own code talk in plain English. You tell when to do it and it’s done. My boys are chomping at the bit to be useful.”
“I’ll tell ya what. You tell a thousand of them to get set and I’ll give you the ‘go’ when I can. They will all be deputized law enforcement under my office. I have that authority from the G
overnor and there’s a law going through right now that will broaden that authority soon. I look forward to a great relationship with your men.”
Tan continued, “I have to say again that this will be dangerous. These killers, whoever they are, are dangerous and know what they are doing. Someone is setting things up very well and the men know how to get the job done. Of course, so far no one has had a chance to shoot back at them either. We will coordinate with AzBP as we carry out our surveillance and in any attacks or counterattacks we do. There are good guys on the field and we need to know that. If your men are ready, we will probably need them fired up, trained up, briefed up, and ready to stand against these clowns.”
“My boys will be there when you call.”
Captain Frank Carter pulled out his phone, punched in a text, and sent it. “We’ll be talking about it tonight, late. My wife will have more time to play with the grandkids while I return to Phoenix to brief my sergeants. For your info, our group is captain, sergeants, and grunts. No overloading deep structure like the real army. Nobody gets paid so what’s the use?”
“Sounds like a plan to me. Another beer before you leave?”
“Nope, I’m outta here. Call when ready. Maybe even to keep me posted?”
“You got it.” Tan stood and stuck out his hand.
A quick shake and the militia leader walked out the door.
The waitress walked to the table with the bill.
Tan paid and left a good tip out of his own money before leaving and going back to an empty room.
As he climbed the stairs at the end of the building, he heard feet shuffling on the balcony that ran the full length of the front of the building. ‘Just another tenant,’ he thought.
He rounded the corner at the top and caught a fist in the forehead that slammed him back against the railing.
Someone grabbed his left leg and lifted, trying to send him over the rail to the concrete below.
Tan cocked his right leg and kicked the man in the face as he grabbed frantically for the railing.
The man went back losing his grip on the foot and his balance, landing on the hard floor of the balcony.
Tan pulled on the railing until his feet were swinging toward the floor and pushed off with both hands as he saw a second man coming up the stairs running.
The man on the balcony floor tried to get up, but Tan grabbed him by the crotch and shirt front, lifted, and tossed the man to the asphalt below. Turning, he set himself for the charge of the second man as he tried to get his gun out of the holster. The man saw the gun coming up and drew his own. Tan fired three times before the attacker’s gun cleared the holster, sending the man backwards down the stairs to join his partner at ground level.
Tan reloaded and ran down the steps to check the men on the ground. The second man was dead at the foot of the stairs as he expected, but the man on the asphalt was moaning as he approached.
The man was trying to get his gun out from underneath his body. Tan kicked him in the side of the head, reached down, and took the gun for himself before putting cuffs on the man. “Son, you just picked the wrong man to try to make money on.”
The owner came out the front door with a gun in his hand, bumped into Tan, and swung the gun in Tan’s direction. Tan batted it away and said, “I’m the good guy. Call the police, please.”
As he said that, he looked up the street to see a police car backing out of a slot in front of the Police Station. “Never mind, put the gun away.”
Tan walked into the lobby and asked, “You got a first aid kit?” as the blood dripped from a split eye brow.
Nogales
“Yes, gentlemen, it is blood. Just barely enough to make that determination. Someone did a great job of cleaning this floor. The seams and dents saved enough blood for the test to tell there was blood here. But, I cannot tell from right here if it’s human blood. I need to take a couple of samples, and they will be small, back to the lab and scope them out.”
“Let’s roll,” Tank said.
Abdul headed for the rental office of Raoul’s Used Cars and Rentals. He told the owner, Raoul, “Don’t let nobody mess with that jeep till you hears from us. Got it?”
“Yes, sir. Can you hurry it up? That vehicle is my biggest money maker.”
“Should have our tests done in another hour or so. Save it till noon tomorrow and if you don’t get my call, it’s yours to do with as you please.”
“I got a gal wants it 6 AM.”
“I’ll get back to you. You helped us, we ain’t gonna bomb you.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you.”
Abdul ran for the truck to follow the crime scene guy. “Stay with him, pard.”
“He ain’t goin’ nowhere we don’t already know. Down the street, right a block and, bingo, we there.” Tank was on it.
At the lab the samples went under the microscope, a drop of something went on the slide to liquefy the dried samples, and, after a moment, he took a deep look before sitting up straight and saying, “Take a look for yourself,” and backed away.
Abdul pushed Tank in for a look. Tank looked, cocked his head and looked again, before standing up and saying, “Yup. I see what you mean. Abdul grab a look see.”
“I wouldn’t know what I’s lookin’ at, man.” He turned to the lab man. “Human or not?”
“Nope, he probably did a little hunting. I’d say rodent of some kind. Like a rabbit.”
“Damn.” Tank wasn’t happy. “Let’s go. Thanks for your time. We’ll call Raoul and let him know he can use the Jeep.”
“You’re welcome. It’s a nice exercise for me. Haven’t had to do that in a year or so.” He turned and walked into the office adjoining the lab.
Abdul followed Tank out the door to the truck grabbing his phone on the way. “Raoul.”
He listened.
“You can rent it out. Weren’t nothin’ but a rabbit. Maybe you oughta furnish game bags. Might save some wear and tear on your carpets.”
He listened.
“No prob. Thanks for your cooperation.” He hung up.
“Let’s go eat. I is a hungry man. How about that Chinese all-you-can-eat place with the crab legs?”
“Your turn to buy,” said Tank as he fired up the truck.
“Then we get to Patagonia to see the boss man come da morning.”
Patagonia
“Mr. Brown, is that all you can tell us about your fight with these men. After all, one is dead and one not much alive, and you are telling me it was a bounty hunter from below the border. Kinda far-fetched, even for an investigator from the Governor’s office. I’ve been seeing you around town and other places near here for the past few days or so. What’s up with that?”
“Look, I’ve shown you my badge, given you the number for the Governor, and my buddy, Bubba, from the AzBP has vouched for me, - ouch, quit ripping my eyebrow apart - and the owner here has seen the credit cards from the State of Arizona that pay my bills here. What more could you want?”
“What did you do to get a bounty on your head?”
“Put a cork in the drug traffic, stopped an Indian uprising, and invaded Mexico. How’s that?” Tan replied.
“Don’t leave town without our permission.”
“I will go where I want. You know as well as I do that only a court can order that and even then the Governor might have a bit to say about it.”
The officer wasn’t sure what to say or do, so he got in his car and drove the short walk to the Police Department.
Naco, Arizona
4:30 AM
The AzBP manning the border crossing had over a hundred cars an hour pass through going both ways. Headed south, they just waved them on through and let their Mexican compadres take care of them. If they came from the south, they checked the trunk, under the hood, back seat, and mirrored the underside. The dog did a walk around with its sniffer going full blast. ID and work card, passport, and sometimes birth certificates were checked against the data base. Everythi
ng was recorded in the computers on video in living color with sound.
Then there were the trucks and trains. The trucks pulled into their own lane and were checked even more thoroughly, but then there was a lot more to check. Two dogs and five humans did the checks on trucks. The trains rolled through without even the passing of papers out the window on the fly. Everyone knew there were three or four folks hidden in the train as it went by, and yet they let it go on order from the White House with the promise it would not stop in Arizona, which everyone knew was a joke.
“Hey, Taco. Did you check that red border bomb’s trunk?” The AzBP sergeant yelled to the man south of the border.
“Yeah, Gringo, I did. All clear.” He knew the game.
The Spanish speaking sergeant knew the border guards in the south hated being called Taco. So he did it just to rile them. “Taco. He had a gun under the front seat.”
“He is my cousin, Gringo.”
“Everybody is your cousin, Taco.”
“Not you, Gringo. My family has class and you are nothing but a yankee who rapes our women and steals our water after you drink all our cheap tequila. I hate the expensive tequila that is left.”
“Tough. If your women looked at you tacos instead of us, you’d still be outta luck with your women. They have the class. Except for the fat ones.”
A truck from the south was being passed through by the Mexican side through the fast truck lane which was set aside for trucks with certain papers stating they have met the standards and safeguards called for under the NAFTA agreement. The North American Free Trade Agreement allowed these vehicles to be inspected at the loading point, sealed with three seals, and then passed through without further ado. The truck was half in Mexico and half in the U.S.A. when the driver stuck his head out the window and hollered, “Allah Akbar” and disappeared in a gigantic fireball that flattened the check point buildings and had a kill radius of over one thousand feet. The death furthest away was caused by an ancient Geo that was lifted and flew for the first time in its existence to land on a new Ford Mustang convertible. The smell of ammonia was strong in the fire ball.
