by Doug Ball
Nods and “Yes, Governor,” followed her command.
She sipped the tea Josie handed her.
University of Arizona, Tucson
11 AM
Three young men walked into the intersection of Sixth and Park brandishing signs which said, FREE NATIVE AMERICANS NOW, and began the chant. Four beat up old cars chugged and smoked westward ahead of them. A crowd quickly fell in behind the parade helping to give volume to the chant and importance to the message.
Arriving at I-10 they turned right up the ramp and parked the old clunkers across the lanes of northbound traffic as quickly as possible. As in Flagstaff, the drivers jumped out flinging their keys as far as possible after opening the trunks and back doors, and began handing out signs. The chant grew in volume with each additional person in the crowd trying to shout over the volume of horns and swearing coming from the vehicles caught in the ensuing traffic jam.
Within moments irate drivers jumped out of their cars and attacked the protesters. The clunkers were rolled to the side off the asphalt. The protesters made the mistake of trying to stop them only to be met with fists and anger. The ‘oh, no, squad’ of Tucson P.D. was dispatched to quell the riot, ambulances rolled, and the fire department sent a pump truck.
Within minutes traffic was rerouted around the protest by police and DPS officers on high alert for just this event.
Water hoses were used to cool down the battle.
Three hours and sixty three arrests later, all was quiet and cars rolled north on the interstate.
Arizona Supreme Court
1 PM
A man in black robes opened the door and entered the room.
The bailiff cried, “All rise.”
The judge sat behind the bullet proof bench.
The bailiff slammed the gavel down, “Please be seated.”
The judge shuffled papers for a moment or two and then began, “In the matter before the court, case number 2013-64, Villasanchez versus the State of Arizona. The unanimous finding of this court is that the State of Arizona has the legal right to control the borders of the state as long as the free flow of citizens and other legal residents of the United States of America is not impeded. This control is permitted for the borders of all adjoining states and foreign countries.
“A written finding will follow.
“This session is adjourned.”
Whiteriver, AZ
White Mountain Apache Tribal Headquarters
2 PM
“I am new Chief of all White Mountain Apache,” began the man on the steps of the building. “All roads into this place called White Mountain Apache Reservation will be closed at midnight tonight. Anyone desiring access to this Apache land must have a pass from White Mountain Apache Reservation. We are no longer a part of Arizona. We are a sovereign nation on our sovereign land.
“To show our good will we will allow access through our nation on state and federal highways as toll roads. A three dollar toll will be collected from all vehicles not belonging to the people of the White Mountain Apache Reservation. Policing these highways will now be the duty, responsibility, and privilege of the White Mountain Apache Reservation. Violators of posted law will be ticketed with fines comparable to what the State of Arizona has been charging in the past, with all funds going to the White Mountain Apache Reservation.
“As you know there is no White Mountain Apache Tribe. That is a white man name given to us without consultation. Our elders will meet next week to determine which name we shall be called. It is our right to take whatever name we wish as a nation on this land which has been ours for over 800 years. The armies of the white man took from us much and now we take a part of that back. We also take back all of our dignity.
“Thank you for coming. We want only peace. Good day.”
He turned and walked into the building as reporters clamored for answers that they just were not going to get.
Not a gun was seen
Governor’s Conference Room
2:20 PM
“They did what?” the governor yelled.
“They have established a nation from the White Mountain Apache Reservation and placed tolls on all state and federal roads passing through the rez.”
“Impossible. They cannot just declare all treaties and contracts null and void,” she said, “can they?” She sat heavily in her chair. “Well, I guess with the treaties and contracts thing with the Federal Government, didn’t we just do that? Now there are two political entities for the Feds to deal with.”
“Yes, Governor, we did that. We showed the way.” The Hawk gave it a moment to sink in. “What now?”
The Governor looked around the group with her, “Any suggestions?”
One of the assistants from the state land department said, “What’s to do? That doesn’t hurt us, it actually helps us.”
“How?”
The assistant looked around as if embarrassed before stating, “The reservation has always been Federal land anyhow, bringing mighty little revenue to the state. What they have done is the same thing we have done in our relationship with the Federal Government. They have cut themselves off from the Federal Government, and its money and programs. The only thing they have done that is questionable in the slightest is the tolls and I think those are a good idea for us also. Now they have to maintain those roads, not Arizona. They have no equipment to do so. We can contract with them or they can buy the equipment from our stocks which we won’t need because they will be doing the work. It will also save us money with their schools being under their umbrella. Now that we are financing our own schools within the state budget and they have brought the schools on the rez under their own umbrella and out of the state jurisdiction, they will not be funded by us. There are other money makers in this for us which I am willing to look into if you so desire, Governor?” He ended with a confident smile.
“Do that and report to me tomorrow around one.”
“I’ll do that. One other thing I’ll bet the Tribe hasn’t thought on, all the Federal dollars they get are routed through the state. Now they will have to establish their own lines of communication with the Fed which they have cut themselves out of by declaring themselves a nation, but then foreign aid funding might bring them much more in the long run. If Gaza can get a half a billion dollars, they should be able to get more.”
Everyone in the room got a chuckle out of the last sentence.
“You may be right. One, tomorrow.” The Governor turned to the rest of the folks around the table. “What’s happening now or what needs to happen now?”
“Nothing new, Governor, nothing new.”
“Good, let’s call it quits and go home. Good night.”
Fort Apache Reservation
White River, AZ
4 PM
A phone rang. An aging Apache man picked up the phone, “Hello?”
“The excitement is ready.” The line went dead.
The aging Apache man smiled and hung up.
9
Crazy Man’s Apartment
4 PM
A phone rang, “Hola, this is Ted.”
“The tribes are banding together to stage a revolt against white rule.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“What proof do you have? I need more than an anonymous phone call.”
“A DPS officer will die soon, killed with an arrow made in the traditional way.”
“You’re jerking on my leg, right?”
The line went dead.
Ted checked his caller ID. ‘Restricted.’ Dialing his boss, he tried to put on a shirt. He misdialed twice before he dropped the shirt and did one thing at a time. The boss didn’t answer. He called DPS Director Desi Armistad on his personal phone.
“What do you want now, Ted?”
“Got an unknown caller telling me one of your finest will be killed with an arrow made with old skills, supposedly an Indian attack of some kind. I’ve heard many tips on the phone, truth and lie, an
d this guy didn’t sound like a prankster.”
“Ted, what have you been smoking?”
“You know I don’t smoke anything and you know that I don’t abuse your phone number. Pay attention and do what you have to do.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll pass the word along.”
Ted gave him the verbatim account of the phone call before stating, “If this is true, it could get bloody in Arizona quickly. Last I heard 85 percent of the homes in Arizona had firearms of one sort or another. Some of our wannabe cowboys will have a field day and some of our wannabe braves will be more than happy to oblige them. I think I’ll move to Texas after all.”
“I’ll let the Governor and my folks know. You gonna publish?”
“Not until an officer is attacked with an arrow.”
“Sounds good, I’ll keep you posted.”
“Great.” He hit the end button on his cell and dialed his boss again.
Outside Walnut Canyon National Park
8:30 PM
Two men gathered wood and herbs as the sun buried itself after another long day of sailing across the sky. They began changing clothes from denim and tee shirts to breech cloths and Ghost Shirts. As the darkness deepened, they lighted the fire using the old method of bow and stick bringing a spark into existence, which was then nurtured by gentle puffs of air into the shredded bark nest prepared for the growth of the spark to a coal. As the coal burst into a small flame, it was laid in the prepared teepee of small sticks. The fire consumed the small sticks and then the larger ones above until it was a roaring fire. The two men began to dance brandishing their weapons of war, two bows and a pair of long slim quivers each with four arrows, one for each of the sacred mountains. After the bows were purified in the smoke, each of the arrows was passed through the withering fire, until at last, the fire was low enough that each man stood astraddle the bed of coals in the smoke caused by green juniper and maize pollen laid over the glowing remnants of the fire.
At midnight each man added a still warm coal from the fire to his medicine pouch before changing clothes back to denim and tees, pulled on moccasins, and walked to a truck that was stolen hours ago from a remote ranch building. No one missed it for weeks. Their destination was I-17 at the Munds Park exit where a certain snoopy DPS officer got coffee regularly at around 6 AM.
15 June 2013
Munds Park
6:00 AM
Robert Jaegar had been on the road for thirty minutes cruising slow and easy down I-17 from Flagstaff without making a single stop or finding any problems. ‘Coffee time” he told himself as he flipped the lever to signal his intent to exit the interstate and slow down. The speedometer dove from 75 slowly down to 45 and then even slower as he approached the stop sign at the bottom of the ramp. Turning slowly to the left the lights of the restaurant filled his windshield. “Coffee in sight.”
Noting nothing out of the ordinary, he pulled into his favorite spot alongside the coffee shop that pointed at the access road allowing for a speedy get away if needed. He called in the coffee break to dispatch and left the car. Being on high alert due to the threats he was receiving, something caught his eye moving off to the right. He dropped into a crouch drawing his weapon. He heard the twang of a bow string just before something hit him in the right side between the plates of his bullet resistant vest. There was no surprise in his mind when he looked down and saw the feathered shaft of an arrow sticking out of his uniform shirt. He felt no pain.
Leveling his 9 mm in the direction of the motion and sound he yelled, “Drop the weapons and come out with your hands up.”
There was no response.
Moments later, off to his left behind his vehicle came the sound of another bow string and an arrow stuck in the driver’s door inside panel. He realized the interior light was putting him in the spotlight and frantically turned the knob to kill the light with his hand which was full of gun. Shifting the gun to his left hand he rotated the knob. Now that all the lights were out and his right hand held the gun again, he was on equal footing with the ambushers.
He triggered his shoulder mike, “4Baker73. Officer being fired on by assailants armed with bows and arrows at Munds Park Restaurant parking lot. Request backup.” Turning to get in better position he brushed the arrow shaft protruding from his side against the car and rolls of agonizing pain shot through his upper body. “Make that officer shot at Munds Park. I have an arrow in my side.”
Dispatch responded, “All units, officer down, Munds Park. Assailants armed with bows and arrows.”
Robert Jaegar had never fired his gun in anger in all his 17 years, but now he was ready to do just that. All he needed was a target. He knew he couldn’t roll under the car without jamming the arrow deeper in his side and compounding his injury. The thought of running to cover between the car and the restaurant building came to him, but he knew he would be in the open too long. Looking around he realized all he had to do was get back in the car, which he did.
The car door slammed just as two arrows shattered the window in the door. He hunkered down with only his eyes and top of his head showing. The twang came again and an arrow cut the top of his head. Blood worked its way down across his forehead and into his eye brows. His first aid kit was in the trunk. The handkerchief he carried in his hip pocket quickly jammed against his forehead and hat pulled over it solved that problem. The Indians were still out there and the cowboy wasn’t doing very well. “Oh, for John Wayne and the sound of a cavalry charge right now.”
Motion caught his eye again and he fired. Realizing the 9 MM wasn’t too good at stopping targets that couldn’t be seen, he holstered the weapon and grabbed the shotgun. Two fast rounds of buck shot sent a rolling pain down his side. “That wasn’t my best idea.”
Grabbing the mike again, he shouted, “Where’s the help, 4Baker?”
“Sheriff’s unit ten minutes out. What’s your status?”
“Bleeding from head wound and arrow shaft sticking out of my right side. Seat feels like it is full of blood. I am in unit with driver’s side window shot out.” An arrow came through the open window and thunked into the dash above the radio. “An arrow just stuck in my dash.”
The parking lot lights all came on. Two men ran out of the front door of the restaurant with guns in their hands. One called, “Where’s the bad guy, Smokey?”
Lights were coming on all over the area around the restaurant parking lot.
“Take cover. Two men armed with bows and arrows.”
“Yee haa, bring on them Indians.” An arrow stuck the man dead center in his chest. He fell like he’d been hit with a hammer.
The second man ducked back inside yelling, “Indians.”
With the parking lot lights full on Jaegar could see into the woods across from his car much better. A man in breech cloth and moccasins ran to Jaegar’s left. The shotgun sounded and the Indian stumbled, caught himself, and kept running after changing direction to go deeper into the darkness of the woods. Jaegar kept an eye out for the other one.
The sound of a siren coming was sweet music to his ears as he wiggled around his computer and other paraphernalia to reach the passenger door of his unit. Something tapped on it from the outside. A voice called, “Friend here, officer. My buddy got shot so I came out the back door to assist after calling 911. How can I help?”
Jaegar pushed the button to lower the window a bit, “Stay under cover and watch the woods off the front of the car. Do not expose yourself. Help is on the way.”
“Gotcha.”
All was quiet except for the increasing volume of the oncoming help.
In the woods, one man slithered through the trees and brush toward the truck and escape. “That didn’t go as well as planned,” he said to the trees as he approached the truck. Moments later, after giving up on his partner, he was speeding down Mormon Lake Road planning his route from Mormon Lake to home in his mind. The big question was what to do with the bow and remaining arrow.
15 June
Gover
nor’s Bedroom
8:00 AM
The cell phone on the nightstand sounded with its rendition of the Stars and Stripes Forever. She didn’t need to look at the caller ID to know it was the DPS calling. “Hello, Desi, what’s on fire?”
She listened.
“Okay. Meet ya there.”
She hung up.
“Damn. Two men in breech cloths attacked a DPS officer at Munds Park. Officer hurt and one man who tried to help the officer dead on arrival Flagstaff Medical Center. He had an arrow sticking out of his chest, handmade and decorated in a Native American pattern. The point was hand knapped. Two professors from NAU are headed for the hospital to determine which tribe, if any. Desi suspects the attack was a fraud only to get us focused on a tribe.”
“Bye, bye, Governor.” Her husband rolled over pulling the covers up tight around his balding head.
The last thing her husband heard before the door slammed was, “Josie, meet me at the office in twenty minutes.”
She did not wait for the driver. Firing up her private car, she pointed the hood ornament toward the office thinking to herself, ‘Hope there aren’t any Indians waiting for me. That would be something, the first Arizona Governor killed by Indians. I’d rather not.’ She dug the Glock out of her purse, checked to see that there was a round in the chamber, and laid it on the seat beside her. After thinking for a moment, she moved it to her lap. There she could make sure it didn’t slide away if she had to get crazy with her driving.
Arizona Republic Editor’s office
8:00 AM
Oscar was trying to figure the angles on the story Ted was presenting. His mind whirled around all kinds of corners before he finally said, “Ted, let’s sit on this thing. If we run this story now without any other info, the Cowboys and Indians in Arizona will be at war within minutes of it hitting the streets. We’re not sure if it really is one of the tribes or just a couple of nutcases. You have 24 hours to find me more information as to motive, who, and possible responses. I don’t want war on the streets worse than all the other repercussions we’ve had from terrorist attacks. The boys in turbans have lost enough and we don’t want the Indians shot down in the same way. We’ve had enough innocents dead.”
