State of Defense (State of Arizona Book 1)
Page 13
“Okay, we blow the bridge south of Page in the middle of the big climb and then a bunch of large trees north of Flag, then what?” LeRoy Begay was out for the action and finally getting revenge for his father who died in the whiteman’s war in Iraq. At 19, he was the youngest of the three, but the most aggressive. The other two had seen war and death, and really just wanted to isolate the tribe and set up their own country.
Monty Whiteclaw knew they were going to lose the battle and already had his surrender speech set in his head, “Look, we go in shooting and we’ll all die. We go in with a little property destruction and we all have a chance of changing things for the better on the res. Push the bucket this way, will ya?”
The third man pushed the bucket after grabbing a thigh, “I ain’t liking any of this. We got guns, they will react with guns. We need to stand without weapons and make our demands known. I got friends in Flagstaff who will stage another event on old 66 for the press right after we blow the bridges. There we can make our demands known. We kill someone and they will kill us. I am brave, but there is nothing on this rez except my family that I would die for.”
“Don’t let Yashti hear you or you’ll die for that statement.”
“He knows how I feel.”
“Okay,” the man with the thigh meat in his mouth said, “We meet across the street at 3 AM Wednesday.” He nodded at the man with concerns, “You bring your cousins Highway Department truck. We then drive to the bridge. Set the charges for 6 AM. Quarter to six we set the barricades in place and in our yellow vests we stop traffic. At five of six with hopefully a line of cars in both directions, we make our way out of there by hiking up the wash to our bikes - which we’ll put in place tomorrow morning - and get out of there. Any questions?”
The other two men shook their heads, reaching for another piece of chicken.
“Let’s do it.” He snagged the last piece of chicken, a wing, and left, nodding to the couple with the kids.
Checkpoint Golf
7 PM
“Corporal, looks like them Mexicans are setting up camp. You think they might not be attacking tonight.” Guthrie called out while the Corporal was in the bushes relieving himself.
“Could be. Hang on a minute and I’ll take a look.” He came around the bushes buttoning his trousers, “Seems like a fella oughta be able to take a leak without being interrupted by the war, don’t ya think, Jenkins?”
“No sah, I don’t. I get interrupted all the time by you peeping Toms.” She was real sassy when she wanted to be.
“What you got that anyone would want to peep at?” Guthrie chimed in. “Never mind, I heard it before.”
“Hand me the binocs, Guthrie, I’ll take a look at our neighbors to the south.”
Looking across the fence they saw men piling out of the armored vehicles and trucks, setting up tents, starting fires, and generally standing around. The border station was closed completely, bars down, barricades in place, lights out, and no one moving. He saw people on his side in cover positions with weapons pointing south, but no one was moving. “Looks like they may be parking for the night at least. Call it in, Guthrie.”
“Gotcha, Corporal. Can I ask for a hot meal to be sent out for us?”
“No. Eat your MRE like a real man, or like Jenkins does. She loves them things.”
“You are one sick man, Corporal O’Brian, one sick man. Ain’t nobody like dem things at all, no how. Yuck, yuck, and triple yuck.”
“Corporal, the Captain says for us to eat our MRE’s and keep alert. Two watch, one sleep. There will be no relief for at least twelve hours or until the war starts, whichever is the longest. He figures they will hit us at first light. Anything back, Corporal?”
“Not at this time. You done good, Guthrie, real good.
18
Checkpoint Mike
Lukeville, AZ
7:30 PM
“Lieutenant Dwyer,” the Radioman called.
“Yes, Ruiz.”
“Forward OP says troops and armored vehicles of various types moving into positions across the border.”
“Tell them to get me a count if possible.”
“Sir.”
Checkpoint Baker
Douglas, AZ
“Sergeant, that sure sounds like tracked vehicles moving toward us south of the border.”
“Radioman, have OP 2 give me a count on the movements down south.”
“Sir.”
Governor’s Office
8 PM
The Governor’s cell phone was buzzing in her purse. She answered it, “Yes.”
“You sitting down, Boss?”
“Yes. What you got for me now, General?”
After listening for a good thirty seconds, the Governor said, “Call me if they cross the border.”
Checkpoint Charlie
Naco
8:10 PM
“Heavy vehicles of some kind. Them Mexicans got all kinds, ya know.”
“I think you’re right. Radioman. Contact all OPs and get a count and direction on those heavies.”
“Sir.”
National Guard Armory
Tucson
“General, we have a few heavies and a buildup of troops all across our southern border. What now?”
“Well, Major, we can pray, run, stand, worry, eat supper, go home, oh, there are many things we can do, but being who we are, we can only prepare for battle with my cousins to the south.
“First I want every region along the line to send scouts south across the border to scope out the enemy. They have my direct order to infiltrate across the border to collect all the info they can. I do not think my cousins will put out many guards. They will be thinking we are nice guys and will not cross the border in their direction, but we’ll fool them and send many.
“No killing unless absolutely necessary for the safe return of our people.” The General sat quickly like a major burden had dumped on his shoulders.
The Major responded with, “Yes, Sir. You know I am only a supply nerd. I get you the things you need to win. Every piece of heavy equipment is moving south toward Yuma, Tucson, and Bisbee. Yuma Proving Grounds and Fort Huachuca have been advised and both commanders regret they have been ordered to stay out of the fight and only protect the Federal bases they command. Bomb range commanders say the same thing. Luke Air Force Base and Marine Corps Air Base are locked down. Nobody in and nobody out.
“General, I’m going to speak freely; we need all the troops we can get. I have more guns and ammo than we will need, enough ammo to last for three weeks of reasonably intense combat based on historical expenditures. We might be short on MRE’s, but the supermarkets are full. Our problem is manpower, or troops to be more politically correct.” The Major stopped and looked at the General. He had never seen a General cry before.
The General noticed, “I was not joking about my cousins. The Colonel most likely leading the troops to the south is my cousin, first cousin. We have played golf and fished together for years. I have no desire to bring harm to him or sorrow to his family, but I will. It is my duty and personally strong conviction that this nation must not be compromised.”
The phone rang, the top Sergeant answered, “General Rios’ office, First Sergeant Browning speaking, how may I assist you, Sir?”
“Give me the General, please.”
“Who shall I say is calling?”
“The President of the United States.”
“One moment, Mr. President.”
The Sergeant didn’t really know how to react. He had never spoken to the President, his Commander-in-Chief, before. He didn’t really want to speak to the President, either. He didn’t want his General to speak to the President at all, he had enough on his plate without complications.
The General solved the Sergeant’s problem, “Give me the phone, Sergeant.”
“General Rios speaking, Mr. President, what can I do for you.”
“You can stop the charade of defending Arizona and haul your troops to California for im
mediate transport to Mali, that’s what you can do, General.”
“I am so sorry, Sir. Arizona is in a state of emergency called by the Governor. Therefore, my orders come from her. When the SOE is over, I would love to see the country of Mali, but it is not to be at this time. You could call El Presidente’ for me and tell him to recall his troops that are massing along this border. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. President?”
The conversation continued for ten minutes, containing various threats and bribes until the President, without hesitation, hung up.
“It’s getting deeper, Major, very much deeper.”
The Major looked back at the wall map with its various pins and sticky notes trying to figure how best to route the materials of war, before and after it starts.
The General finally said, “Sergeant Browning, get ahold of that guy that offered ten thousand troops by dawn and tell him to have them here, and I do mean here, by 0400 hours.”
“YES, Sir!”
“Carry on, Sergeant. If you don’t know what needs to be done, no one does.”
“Sir.”
17 June
National Guard Armory
Tucson
3:00 AM
“How many now, Sergeant?”
“Well, General, I quit counting at thirteen thousand, mostly from southern California. We are dispersing them as privates and the only one that has complained, and not very much, was a former Major that said he knew you. He is 57 years old, Hispanic, and went as a Private.”
“What’s his name and where did he go?”
“Melendez and he’s headed for Naco, said he spoke Spanish fluently and could shoot the freckles off a fly at two hundred yards with an M16.”
“I know him, Sergeant. He’s a scrapper from the old days. We served in Somalia together. He got tired of sand fleas.” The General laughed at his own joke.
“I understand, General, believe me I understand.” He, too, had served in all the sandy armpits of the world.
“Who we got in charge at Naco?” the General scratched his day old beard thinking it was time to get cleaned up for the day.
“First Sergeant Lloyd.”
“Call the Sergeant and give him my respects. Inform him that the Major is to be in charge and he is to give him full cooperation. The Sergeant will not regret it. I’m headed for the showers.”
“First Sergeant Lloyd won’t mind. He’s older than dirt and coasting to retirement.” He called for the encrypted radio. “I hate Mondays.”
“Me, too, First Sergeant,” came the General’s voice from the depths of his office where the shower was.
Checkpoint Baker
4:30 AM
Two men climbed out of the fox holes they had dug hastily in the dark wondering why it was so quiet. The sounds of birds and locusts were the only ones that could be heard. One of the men took a look at the OP, a rock wall piled in a U shape on a point of the high land they were camped on, seeing only two backs facing him. ‘Must be quiet down south or they woulda got us up. Sergeant ain’t gonna let us get hit while we sleeping.’
The man eased out of his hole and headed down the back slope of the ridge they were on, “Woo, where’d all them folks come from.” The ground before him was covered with shelters and sleeping bags of all kinds.
“Who you talking about?” said the other man.
“Look.”
He did. “Wow. We got reinforcements. Must be a couple hundred or more.”
“More. Let’s go find some coffee.”
Arizona National Guard Camp Navajo
6:00 AM
A train with three box cars sat on the tracks at loading dock 7. A conveyor belt moved green boxes from a bunker up into the car where four troops stacked them with precision and caution. “How many of these headed wherever today, Georgie?”
“Don’t know, but there are three cars on this train and from what I hear, there’s four tractor trailer rigs loading over by dock 3.”
“We gonna be a while. You up to it, girl?”
“I’ll be working when you quit, mama’s boy.”
“You are on. Fifty Bucks?”
“Done, now quit resting and get to work.”
“Hey, ain’t dock 3 tank ammo?”
“Yep, tank and mortar, and this here’s small arms stuff. Ain’t you heard? The Mexicans are attacking down south.”
“Shit, I’m stuck up here.”
Gun fire broke out all around them. Each grabbed at the Berettas they carried. “Oh, boy, 9mms against rifles. We are in trouble girl.”
“Naw, we got lots of ammo.”
“One round hits that ammo and we are smoke, nothing but molecules floating in the air.”
The train started moving. Heavier guns opened up on something. Within moments the troops figured out it was them as a slug tore through the sides of the metal box cars letting in the sunlight. “What do we do now?”
“Hold until relieved.” He grabbed his handheld radio. “Team nine to Base. We are under fire.”
“Say again Team nine.”
“We are under fire. Train is moving north out of dock 7. You wanna send reinforcements. They got us way outgunned.”
“Team four is on the way.”
“Base, we got at least twenty guns shooting at us. I am assuming the train is under the control of the bad guys, whoever the hell they are. There are only two of us, the other two are down. There were three civilians in the bunker. Better wake up everybody and notify command.”
“You sure somebody didn’t sneak in deer poaching, or something.”
“Listen to the sounds,” he held his radio to the door as the open car passed the location of an Indian with an M16 which he unloaded directly into the car. “Does that sound like a poacher? One does not go after deer, legal or poaching, with an automatic weapon. The man behind that M16 was dressed and painted like an Indian, kinda reminded me of the pictures in the museum of the old Navajo chiefs. Send lots of help. Close the gates and set the derails so this train doesn’t get off site.”
“Okay, will do.”
The radio went silent as the train picked up speed and the weapons being fired fell behind. “Okay, partner, we can stay with this thing, which I don’t think is a good idea, or we can jump up here around the next corner. The last option will put us a quarter mile or so away from the bad guys, whoever they are.”
“Let’s jump.”
“Ladies first.”
19
National Guard Armory
Tucson
6:00 AM
The General was on his third cup of coffee. An hour and a half nap along with a hot shower and he was set for the day. He knew from experience that he could survive and be sharp on a couple hours of sleep a day for a week, and then he would need to hibernate for sixteen hours or so. “Sergeant, this is great coffee. My compliments to the chef.”
“General, you know as well as I do that coffee is MRE instant, twice the acid and double the caffeine. What do you want to go with it, Country Captain Chicken or Cheese Tortellini? That’s all that’s left of the MRE’s right now. More coming from Phoenix in about an hour . All the rest here were shipped to the border stations.”
“As it should be, Sergeant. Toss me the Cheese, please.”
The MRE sailed through the air across the twenty feet gap between them and landed with a smack on the table in front of the General. “That ought to tenderize the Tortellini.” The General was laughing as he said it. “Yum, yum, breakfast from a plastic bag.” He sat and looked at the wall chart. Blue pins for Mexican troops, green ones for the AZ troops. Where last night he had only twelve thousand troops total for the whole state, now he had over 24,000 and growing.
He added water to the enclosed warmer, inserted the green bag with the tortellini into the see through light green heater bag, and sat it all at the middle of the table to work its magic. The stack of messages was piled to his left, so what-the-hey, he began reading from the bottom up. Nothing too exciting, amm
o coming from the depot near Bellemont, troops still arriving at the airports in Phoenix and Tucson, a note from his counterpart in New Mexico offering to assist if necessary, and a message from his wife telling him to keep his butt down. “Such is life for the lonely soldier,” he grumbled out loud.
“What was that, General?” The Sergeant’s ear was tuned to that voice. His job was to meet every need the General had or thought he had, even before he even realized he wanted it.
“Nothing, Sergeant, just thinking outloud.”
“More coffee, Sir?”
“No thanks, I’ll live longer without.”
Communications rooms
Yuma Marine Corps Air Station, Luke AFB,
Ft. Huachuca, Goldwater AF Bombing Range,
Yuma Proving Grounds
6:05 AM
Bells clanged and lights flashed as the hot message rolled out of the printers concerning the attack on Camp Navajo.
Whitehouse and Pentagon
Same message arrived at both places.
Luke AFB Commander scrambled to armed planes.
Yuma MCAS Commanding Officer scrambled three armed helicopters and two more with half his security detail. Four Harrier aircraft were ordered to be readied for ground attack and launched as soon as possible.
The President ordered a stand down of all forces not attached to Camp Navajo which left a mighty slim detail at the camp to combat the attack, and most of them civilians with pistols. “After all, it’s Arizona’s Guard Camp, not mine,” he proclaimed to the office staff. “Arizona needs to learn what it means to need our support.”
Camp Navajo
Main Gate off I-40
6:05 AM
The faded green hotrod truck parked next to the Harley dealer in Bellemont showed two heads, one head up and looking around. Tan rolled down his window. He listened. Shots. “Wake up, little Suzy, it’s time to rumble.”