State of Defense (State of Arizona Book 1)

by Doug Ball

  “Soldiers of the Arizona Guard, we are in for something that hasn’t happened since, in one respect, 1860, and in another respect, the late 1800’s. There is a civil war and an Indian war in the making. I am not Grant or Crook. It falls on us to win these two wars in a way that shows folks we mean business and will not tolerate attacks of any kind.

  “To make a long story short, your officers have already talked with you concerning the potential enemy and I am proud to announce that not one soldier has left to go fight on the other side. We have a few rebellious Native Americans in our state who think they can conquer the state and run out all non-native peoples from Arizona, and I would assume they are looking for tribes and reservations in other states to join them. We have no idea how many or even which tribes, but we must be ready.

  “The biggest problem is we will be hard pressed to tell the enemy from those on our side. Many folks from the reservations will not join with the rebellion and many none native folks in the state have firearms and are more than capable of using them. With all the hullaballou about strict gun laws and ammo shortages, there are folks out there that are better armed with small arms than we are. All of this put together means we will be fighting alongside folks not in uniform and against folks who are our neighbors.

  “We will stop this rebellion as peacefully as possible. I would rather not fire a shot, but if we have to, we will do it in confidence that we are shooting at the right folks and we will win.”

  The General turned and walked out of the room leaving a serious buzz behind him as he closed the door. His office offered a bit of solitude in this busy time. The stack of paperwork was gone and a large map of the state had been stuck up on the one open wall. Each reservation had been highlighted in red and the number of residents written below the name of the tribe or reservation.

  A Colonel and two Majors walked in. “What’s the plan, General?” asked the Colonel.

  “Any suggestions, gentlemen?”

  The effort to end the war before it really got started began. Within an hour, troops were moving out to appointed staging spots, most of which were on highways where reservations met larger population centers. No reservation was more than twenty minutes from a staging point. The bigger the reservation, the greater the number of troops.

  Sporting Outdoors store

  Tempe, AZ

  2:30 PM

  Crazy Man Ted and his newfound partner, Rusty, entered the Sporting Outdoors store in south Tempe and walked up to the gun counter.

  “May I help you guys,” the sweet thing behind the counter asked.

  Ted took a second look at her, built like a woman was supposed to be and at least six feet tall. The look on her face was one of a professional saleslady that knew what she looked like and how to use that to her advantage. “Yeah, we want a couple of those 12 gauge coach guns you been advertising. The ones with the short barrels and the external hammers.”

  She spun around like a ballerina and grabbed one of the stubby shotguns off the rack, “Like this. If you’re going after anything more than thirty feet away, you might want to think again. These are the original scatterguns. Unless, of course, you want to shoot slugs, then you can get some range, but not much accuracy. Maybe a six inch group at fifty feet.”

  “Wow! Crazy Man did you hear that? She knows the guns. That’s just what we’re looking for, scatter and splatter.” Rusty looked to the tall young lady, “You married?”

  “No. I sell guns and that’s what I like to do.”

  “How about a date at the range?”

  “That might be a possibility, but I’d have to bring my fiance’, the cop.”

  “That’s fine with me. I’ll get back to you. We’ll take two, won’t we, Ted?”

  Ted stood there tapping the toe of his sneaker to the rhythm of the music being piped into the store. “Rusty, don’t you ever focus? Yeah, we want two, with two boxes of number 4 shot and six boxes of slugs. Where’s the paperwork,” he looked at her name badge, “Barb?”

  Governor’s Office

  “Governor, sorry to interrupt, but the President of Mexico is on the line for you. He says it is very urgent.” Josie turned and went back to her desk which was getting piled deeper all the time with things she was to do. ‘Oh, well, nothing to do tonight anyhow,’ she thought pulling up the next document on her computer.

  “Yes, El Presidente’, how may I be of service to Mexico?” She just loved to drip sarcasm with this man. The crowd in her office had a hard time not cracking up completely, but they needed a light moment or two.

  “Madam Governor, you may serve Mexico by returning your border policy to its previous conditions and making payments to the families of those you killed with your armed intrusion into my country. Otherwise, Mexico will declare war on Arizona.” He actually sounded quite serious.

  “I cannot believe you have just said that with a straight face, Senor. You have an amazing ability to gamble without showing your emotions. I would not like to play poker with you, but never the less, nothing will change at the border and you will get no money from the State of Arizona now or ever.”

  “Madam, we are at war then.”

  “Bring it on if that’s the way you would rather have it than sitting down like adults to work this mess out. Do not call back until you are ready to sit down and be civil, or surrender.” She slammed the phone down, looked at the men and women around her, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Arizona is at war with Mexico.”

  Nobody laughed.

  She stuck her head out the door, “Josie, get me the governors of California, New Mexico, and Texas on a conference call in twenty minutes. Tell them they might want their staff with them, including their Guard Adjutant.”

  “Yes, ma . . . Governor.” She almost said the dirty word, but in catching herself they both smiled. “Twenty minutes, staff and general. On it. You want General Rios, also.”

  “Oh, yeah. Get him now so he will know first.”

  Checkpoint Golf

  Mexican Border 4 miles east of Nogales

  The three soldiers manning Checkpoint Golf lounged around their unarmored Humvee smoking and joking as soldiers usually do on boring duty. The cigarette butts on the ground told of the length of this conversation. One of the men, a Corporal, looked south into Mexico wondering why this watch was even necessary after the way the troops and militia had kicked butt further east. He also cussed because he had not made the fight due to his time off in Nogales.

  Taking up the heavy binoculars hanging around his neck, he looked again at something that didn’t look right. A company of tanks was rolling up Mexican highway 15 toward the border. As he watched, more and more military vehicles came into his view. “Get on the horn and report we have major troop and armored vehicle movement coming north on Mexican Highway 15. I’ll get a count.”

  “What are you seeing, Corporal?”

  “A mess of armored vehicles, at least twelve, personnel carriers, and a bunch of trucks – at least twenty so far. More popping up every minute. I think it is either prep for an invasion or a reinforcing of the border crossing, which doesn’t really make any sense to me.” He climbed up on the Humvee’s roof for a better view. In the background he could hear the radio operator making the report.

  “Wake them up, Guthrie. Those armored vehicles just took the road covers off their barrels and the troops are disembarking spreading out on a wide front. It is my opinion they are getting ready to attack.”

  Guthrie passed along the Corporal’s message as she watched the troop dispersal to the south. ‘I sure hope the Corp is wrong,’ she thought as she finished the report.

  “Fire up this crate, Jenkins. I wanna roll fast if they start pointing those barrels at us.”

  “You got it, my man, you got it. I am the fastest getter-outta-here driver you ever met.”

  17

  Prescott, AZ

  1:00 PM

  The two law enforcement officers rolled into historic Prescott with the radio blasting and the window
s down on the hotrod truck. Down Whiskey Row, past the Bucky O’Neil statue in front of the courthouse, eyes searching everywhere. Life was good and they were going to live it that way, with ball caps set well back on their heads, guns out of sight on the rack behind the seat, and automatics in waist bands at the small of their backs. Two heads banged and swiveled like teenagers rocking to the music. In fact, it was a great façade for keeping an eye out all around for the bad guys.

  “Catch that babe over there, Rob.”

  The DPS officer swiveled his head to the left and took in the sight of spandex hot pants, halter top, and tats from head to toe. It was obvious they didn’t stop at the edge of the clothes. “Not bad. A bit heavy on the makeup, if you ask me. I like them plain and simple, like me.”

  “Where we meeting this buddy of yours?”

  “Out toward Thumb Butte. He works on one of the church camps up there. Turn right here.”

  “Right?”

  “Right.”

  The head banging and swiveling continued through four more turns and a stretch of heavily traveled dirt road, and a left to a sign that met them with, ‘Keep Out. Private Property. Residents only.’ Robert said, “Keep going, it’s just a couple hundred yards and up to the right. Right there. The large cabin. Pull around to the back.”

  Tan followed directions into the well wooded area filled with cabins of all sizes and shapes. Many of them were private homes, but to the left it looked like a camp of some kind. Just before they got to the large cabin a sign read, ‘Hallelujah Hills’. As he pulled around back as directed, a very large Indian came from the door waving them to a spot behind the dumpsters. “What is this place, Rob?”

  “Chow hall. Church camp. Probably a couple hundred kids around here somewhere. My old school friend, Orlando, is the cook’s helper, meaning he washes dishes and then helps. But, hey, it’s a job. Let me do the talking.” He opened his door as the truck rolled to a stop and stepped out.

  “What’s the good word, Orlando?” Nobody extended a hand.

  “War’s the word. I ain’t got no time for you two. Here’s what I know. War starts Wednesday at dawn. Maybe two hundred Navajos gonna try to take Flagstaff or at least cut it off from the world. I know they are going to blow the railroad bridges west of town, Canyon Diablo bridges to the east, trees down to the north and south I don’t know what they got in mind. They were still fighting over the best way to hit in the south when I last met with them. They gonna hit Camp Navajo in Bellemont tomorrow, early. I’m supposed to be off for the next three days and join them. But, it ain’t gonna happen, man. I ain’t buying into that crap, no way. I been in jail and in prison, and ain’t never goin’ back.” He started to go back to the kitchen.

  “What about the Hopi and Apache, they moving on this?”

  Orlando looked around, noting that Tan was looking down the road they had come up. “Hopi, I don’t think so, maybe a few. Apache are supposed to have a big bunch, but from what little I heard they are gonna just cut themselves off from you whities and stay home. I ain’t buying that though, they was the ones pushing this whole thing right alongside that Navajo bunch.” He turned again.

  “What you going to do when this comes down, man?”

  “Hide if I can. If they find me I guess I’ll just have to kill some cousins in order to stay alive. I ain’t gonna like that. I got no beef with the white man or the brown man or even the yellow ones, why can’t we just live in peace fighting for the same things if fights are needed? They touch my wife or kids, they gonna be dead Indians, or white guys, and that ain’t gonna make me happy, either.” This time he turned and started walking.

  “Maybe we can put a cork in all this. Thanks, Orlando. Next time.”

  “Yeah, if there be one.” The big man walked to the back door and went in without looking back.

  “Come on, buddy, let’s roll this thing while I make some phone calls.” He slammed the truck door behind him for punctuation.

  Robert stopped cold in his tracks. “Dang, I was supposed to have lunch with the prettiest nurse in the world today. I cannot believe I just forgot. Andrea will never speak to me again. Dang.”

  “Not to worry. There’s other fish in the sea.”

  “Not like this one.”

  Checkpoint Golf

  5:00 PM

  “How many you count, Corporal?” The gal in the driver’s seat was getting nervous. “There’s only three of us, how we gonna stop the armored stuff. I ain’t got enough ammo to hold off a squad let alone that bunch. We ain’t got nothin’ that will stop a tank either.”

  “Get that hummer pointed north, we may be making a strategic withdrawal right soon.” The Corporal liked none of what was going on. A fight was one thing, he’d been in them before, Iraq and Afghanistan, but this was a whole lot different.

  The Radioman called out, “Corp, there’s a ton of traffic moving out of Nogales to the north and some toward us on 82. They all look like civilian vehicles.” He paused, listening to his headphones. “Captain says Nogales is evacuating. Troops are headed south toward us. Be on the lookout for choppers. Our three tanks are moving west from the Santa Cruz battleground along with the troops over there. We are to give ground for time if need be.”

  “That isn’t enough vehicles coming out of town for a real evac. A bunch of them must be staying. I hope they don’t join the Mexican Army when it moves north. We sure have learned that giving and gaining from the Russians, haven’t we,” said the driver.

  “Now, Miss Glenda, you just sit tight. We have permission to play chicken and move out, but it ain’t time, yet. You got that?” The Corporal wasn’t too fond of women in his squad. His Mama had raised him to respect and protect women, not to fight alongside them. He had always planned on fighting for them, them and the kids. His wife didn’t like him out with the girls in camo, either.

  “Corp, here comes a Humvee toward us. Looks like the Captain’s driver.”

  The leader of this trio swung his head around, holding the binoculars to his eyes, until he saw the dust of the Humvee and then moved his line of sight up the dust to the source, “Yep, that’s the Captain.”

  When the vehicle arrived, Captain Hodge dismounted. “Come on up and see the sights, Captain.”

  Captain Hodge climbed atop the Humvee, bringing his own set of binoculars. “Nice view from up here, Corporal. Tell me what you been seeing.”

  Governor’s office

  5:10 PM

  “Okay, folks, let’s summarize this meeting and go home. Some portion of our Native Americans is rising up against us. A DPS officer, presumed dead, but alive, has reported on the uprising. Mexico has declared war on Arizona. California will not assist or lock down its border. New Mexico and Texas will assist and are locking down their border to the south with Guard Troops. Needless to say, the President is not happy with Texas right now.

  Our troops are dispersing to meet the challenges. A major rally called by our Hispanic holdout in the legislature will occur tomorrow morning. We have an ‘Arizona Defense’ medal designed and being ordered for all our troops and the Militia that participated in the San Rafael Valley fight. We may need more if Mexico moves across the border. We will ask all healthy vets under 50 to voluntarily report to the nearest armory and all law enforcement vets to report to local law enforcement offices if they desire to help in our time of need.

  “Did I leave anything out?”

  Each person in the room looked around, shaking his head.

  “Josie, did I leave anything out from your notes?”

  “Only that Texas is looking at refusing monies from the Fed just as we did.” The phone rang. Josie listened and handed the phone to the Governor.

  The Governor listened, said, “Get back to me, soon,” and hung up.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, that was the leader of a major national veteran’s organization stating that many of their members wish to assist Arizona in her time of need. He estimates he can have over ten thousand troops in Phoenix by sunrise to
morrow, three thousand by midnight. He’s calling back within an hour.

  “I do believe the snowball has started.” She sat down with a weak sigh and a smile. “Let’s get this on the six o’clock news.”

  10 minutes later

  The Governor was all packed and ready to leave her office for the well-guarded trip home to her husband and some quiet time, when Josie walked in. “Anything more for me, Governor?”

  “Got any answers for me?” the Governor was joking and got a response she never expected.

  “Yeah,” Josie smiled, “try this one for size. If the Indians want their freedom, why not make each tribe a separate county? That at least would give them some semblance of sovereignty. I don’t know how the Fed would like that or even how it would work with courts, highways, and all the rest, but it does give them a much greater appearance of self-rule, if not real self-rule itself.” Josie stood, looking like a school girl who had questioned her teacher and lost her BFF in doing so.

  The Governor looked at the young woman she dumped so much on, “Josie, I like it. Let’s get in about seven in the morning and work on it. Before you leave, how about calling the tribal chiefs for a conference call at eight?” She sat at her desk again and started scribbling notes.

  “I can do that.” Josie walked out like she had won the spelling bee, only with more bounce.

  Tuba City, Navajo Reservation

  7:00 PM

  In the back corner of KFC with a bucket of chicken sitting in the middle of the table, three men discussed the coming action quietly. A couple with three noisy kids sat between them and the rest of the dining room effectively covering their conversation and discouraging others from eating in that area.