State of Threat

STATE

OF

THREAT

DOUG BALL

#2 in the State of Arizona series

Copyright 2014 – Douglas H. Ball

Front cover photo – Thelma Ball

Copyright 1966

Smashwords Edition

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between characters herein and real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Locations are used for reference only and may be moved at the author’s whim. Any error in historical fact is a work of fiction and the work of the author’s mind.

To Patti

State

Of

Threat

1

Monday

7 October

9 AM

It was just another beautiful fall day in Phoenix. The birds were flying from shade to shade. People moved fast across the asphalt to keep their shoes from sticking to the melted black goo. The water park was closed because school had started. Students sat in windowless rooms trying to imagine what was going on outside and wondering what they were missing. It was 90 degrees in the shade and it was only 9 AM on a Monday morning.

The monsoons had come and gone, leaving all the lakes feeding water to the greater metropolitan area of the Valley of the Sun full to capacity. Generations had come and gone since the last time this had happened causing many Valley, the preferred way of saying Valley of the Sun, families to take days off, jerk the kids out of school, and drive up the Apache Trail to see the water spewing from the overflows on Roosevelt Dam, the largest rubble filled dam in the world.

The great Salt River, which was usually a dry, sandy stretch of ground occupied by the homeless of the metro area, was running higher than it had for years due to the power company, which controls the dams and water flow, opening all the overflow gates to relieve the pressure on the dams. The results were the destruction of the homeless’ shanties and the cleansing of the amassed fecal material and garbage that had accumulated since the last floods.

From high on the Mogollon Rim near the resort of Hannagan’s Meadow, the Salt River was running extremely high from a record year of rain and a hot fall all over Arizona. The high river flow filled the lakes behind the dams, the dams let water loose to run down through the Valley of the Sun into the Gila River, which was overflowing its banks in many places before it met the Salt which caused major flooding in Gila Bend and to the southwest until it dumped the water into the mighty Colorado River causing floods in the Yuma area before the water finally dumped the shanties and raw sewage in the Golfo De California. All in all, Arizona was suffering in a very unusual manner, way too much water.

Les Brown, Tan to his friends, formerly of the Coconino County Sheriff’s Department, stood on the banks of the mighty Salt River just east of the tower of overpasses that made up the junction of highways 101 and 202. He watched some college kids racing canoes and kayaks in the fast flowing brown water. Two Law Enforcement officers stood on the opposite bank motioning, he assumed they were yelling also, for the kids to get out of the water. It looked like fun to Tan. Bass Pro Shop was only a block away and he figured he could find his own kayak there. His wife would not be happy. That was a thought to consider, he worked hard to keep his wife happy. When she was happy, he was happier.

As he watched, he thought of the changes in his life in the past few months. From a deputy on the Coconino County Sheriff’s Department to Special Investigator to the Governor in one short day after the war with Mexico and the uprising of a few members of Arizona’s Native American tribes, both of which the Governor had handled with the help of a few loyal friends with guns. Tan had been one of those friends and he had lost a friend.

The funeral for his lost unofficial partner from the Department of Public Safety (DPS), commonly referred to as the Highway Patrol, had occurred the day before the funerals for the lost in the Battle for Arizona, as it was now called in the press, had begun. Two days of war, the next day a tenuous peace, and then came the funerals. Crappy way to do things in my book, he said out loud at the murky water.

Turning away he heard a shout from the river and turned back in time to see a canoe roll sideways in the current dumping four kids. He started to run, but his leg told him it wasn’t strong enough for running on the rocky ground. He stopped. One of the boys tried to stand only to be knocked down by the overturned canoe in the waist deep water. A scream let the world know that one of the girls was in trouble. One of the cops ran to the water, shedding his pistol belt, shoes, shirt, and hat before wading out and swimming after the girl whose head was covered with red.

Must have hit her head on the rocks, Tan said as he watched her struggle to stay afloat.

The cop finally reached her just as one of the boys got to her. All that could be seen was three bobbing heads as they went through what must have been deeper water out of Tan’s sight around a bend. A fire truck parked at the base of the highway bridge fired up and moved to the vicinity of where the trio would hopefully emerge. The other three kids ended up on the bank nearest Tan and could not help or see what was happening with their friend. Last thing Tan saw they were running for the bridge, to get across to their injured friend, he assumed.

His cell phone buzzed in pants pocket. This is Tan.

You at work, yet?

No, dear, I’m not. I am standing on the river bank watching some college kids do stupid things in the water that look exciting and wondering if I should join them. What’s up?

The plumber just arrived and . . .

Tan listened to the litany of the things that were wrong with the new house and all that Joan wanted to do with it all over again. He smiled as he listened. She was so excited there was no way he was going to pour water on the fire of her dreams. This was the first house that was really theirs since they were married nine years before. He’d been a Marine on active duty and she was the girl he had been looking for. He asked her out. She said yes and away they went. Two kids, one in the hopper, and another they were caring for as foster parents, and now they were in their own home. ‘Well, us and the mortgage company,’ he thought as he listened.

Okay, Joan. You do what you think is best. Inside is yours and I’ll take on the outside. Remember, no debt. Slow and easy without any more debt is the way we’re doing this. Right?

Yes, Sir, General. She always called him that when she was jokingly agreeing with his mandates. Once a Marine, always a Marine, you know.

We agreed.

Okay, lover. Get to work.

You got it, Babe. Love ya. He ended the call.

#

Governor?

Yes, Josie.

There’s an appointment for you at 10 this morning with the Joint Budget Committee and lunch at noon with your husband. I blocked in two hours each for both. Comments?

"I hate budget meetings. We freed a pile of money when we quit accepting Federal funds and put folks to work instead of on welfare and food stamps, and now those chuckleheads in the Legislature want to spend it in new and glorious ways. We still have troops to pay off for their efforts and medical bills for troops and civilians injured in the war with Mexico, a fence to build along the border, and repairs to make in Nogales and other places after the fighting tore them apart. And, I promised the priest at Tumacacori some funds for restoration after our equipment chewed up his parking lot and access road.

Okay, Josie, ink those in and add a meeting at eleven forty with the Sheriffs and DPS Director Armistad. It will be short and sweet. Get some donuts for the law enforcement boys, please. Make sure the coffee pot is full. Don’t forget the juice for those who won’t drink coffee.

I got it. Josie marched out, stiff legged like a goose stepping soldier.

Knock it off. The wedding still on?

Yes, Ma’am. This Saturday just like your expensive gold embossed invite says.

Don’t call me Ma’am, almost Mrs. Hilliard.

Oh, yeah, I forgot. Haha. She looked up as if she were daydreaming, Mrs. Hilliard sounds kinda nice, doesn’t it? Josie closed the door between the offices.

The Governor thought back to her own wedding planning days, remembering all the anxiety and the excitement, and smiled at the girl’s reaction before she reached for the two items Josie had dropped in her IN basket, a budget and the contract for more reconstruction in Nogales. Eight hundred formerly unemployed welfare recipients and volunteers had been working in Nogales on the streets and buildings damaged by the fighting since three days after the war ended.

It still amazed her at the number of volunteer organizations and businesses that had come out to help. The Salvation Army was there the next day. Arizona Southern Baptist Disaster Relief crews with a full kitchen and showers arrived that evening. The Red Cross and Arizona Volunteers Organizations Assisting in Disaster rolled in the morning after, each fully supporting the other in the effort. The Mennonites, Apostolic Church, Methodists, Presbyterians, and just about every other religious group hit town within 72 hours of the surrender. Houses and Businesses began being rebuilt by volunteers with donated material within hours of the insurance companies declaring their policies did not cover war or terrorism damage and would not pay.

All the rubble was gone and it was now time to kick the rebuilding into high gear. She signed the contracts with a flourish before she remembered she needed the photographer here for the show.

She called her PIO guy downstairs in the Office of Public Information on the first floor, thinking it should be OPI guy instead of PIO. She chuckled at her little joke.

Up came a young lady with a digital camera. She did not look like an Opie one bit.

She smiled at the thought as the camera went ‘Click’ as the Governor faked signing the contracts. Get that to the press, please. Add a blurb summarizing the contract and add that this is just a beginning of rebuilding Arizona into the model of how a state could be run with minimal meddling from the Federal Government. Attribute that as a quote from the Mayor of Nogales. He did say that last week when I was down there. Josie has all these notes and talking points.

Yes, Governor. We’ll get right on it. She turned to leave.

Make sure it’s out there by eleven, so it will hit the noon media reports.

It will be. This time she got the door closed without further comment.

The Governor put her feet up on her desk and began to read a summary of what the boys and girls wanted to add to the budget, red pen in hand.

#

There is no way the Governor is going to buy that garbage you folks want to add to the budget. Merle Hopkins, aka The Hawk, was not a happy camper and when the Hawk was not a happy camper he didn’t allow anyone else to be a happy camper. She has made it very clear to all of us that we will be building up a surplus, and the only things she will add to the new budget are those things needed with Druggersville, rebuilding war damage, and getting the tribes started in their new counties smoothly. Now, go back and do your best to make that happen. It’s simple, do it the Governor’s way or we are wasting time, yours and mine.

What if we want to push it? the Mojave Valley Senator said with the voice of authority.

I won’t present it to the Governor, the Hawk replied, and I have that authority. We all made a deal when we backed the Governor in cutting us off from the nipple of Federal Funds. We will, WILL, keep that deal.

The Hawk looked around, Any more questions?

They all left, some angry, others cowed, even more were triumphant. Life in Arizona’s Legislature was never dull.

The Hawk put on his fish belly Stetson, opened his office door, and said, I’ll be over to the House side of things talking with Mr. Speaker of the House.

His male secretary responded, Say ‘hi’ to Tony for me if you will. I’ll be leaving for lunch around 11:30 if that’s okay with you?

Do it and enjoy.

#

The Governor’s Personal Investigator, Tan, entered his office at precisely 9:30 after spending fifteen minutes trying to find a parking spot, again. His secretary, he preferred to call him the vice-Investigator, sat behind the desk of the small outer office talking on the phone.

No, Sir, he isn’t in yet. Probably has something to do with not having a parking space. If we could expedite that parking space, things would run a lot smother. Every time Mr. Brown has to leave the office he spends at least a half hour finding another parking space. You folks have promised one for over a month now, what’s up with that? He smiled at Tan.

Tan stuck a thumbs-up in the air and went through the second door into his private office. The masculine desk was parked catty cornered to the left, behind the opening door where it could not be seen until the door was almost all the way opened. The walls were decorated with his Marine Corps memorabilia. A large picture of his wife with their two kids stood on a corner unit behind the desk sharing the space with a coffee maker and an engraved USMC Guadalcanal Memorial 1911 Colt .45 on a stand with a glass cover. His father, a Viet Nam Vet with a Silver Star, had bought him the gun after his second tour in the Middle East. His grandfather fought and was wounded twice on Guadalcanal. Only Tan knew that the Colt was loaded. He made a mental note to add pictures of the new baby they were caring for, and hoping to adopt, along with the ultrasound of the bun in the oven.

His ‘IN’ box was empty as it had been for the 22 work days he had already served in this office. His computer stood to the right on the desk as he sat down. He grabbed the key board, picked up on the HALO game he had been playing for the last 19 days in this office, and prayed for something to investigate. The first three days had been spent stealing the furniture from various warehouses owned by the State of Arizona. Stealing needed supplies was a skill he learned early in the Corps, only there they called it Midnight Requisitioning, although all of this was acquired in broad daylight.

He gave up on the game in a matter of minutes and called the Governor’s office. Once he was through to the Governor, the former Marine said, Governor, I am bored to tears. Don’t you have some enemy you want followed, intimidated, or just plain harassed? Anything? I will even go down the street to the park and bust a few dopers or homeless bums if you want me to. My apprentice, Chuck, is spending every waking moment finding us two parking spots. I don’t have even that to do.

Now, Tan, you know how important you are to me. We don’t have any more dopers in the park, do we? Who else would vet my bodyguards if you weren’t around? Didn’t you check my limo for bugs and bombs this morning?

Yes, Ma’am, I did, just like I do every morning. And, no, there probably aren’t any dopers in the park.

I have asked you not to call me by that term, I am the Governor.

Yes, Ma’am, Governor, I know that, but I was hoping you’d get mad enough to fire me or something.

Tell ya what, Tan, I’ll find you some work today or you can have a week off with pay to get the yard fixed up at your new home. How’s that?

Better than sitting here playing HALO, Governor. What about Chuck? Got anything for him?

I’ll make it a two man task, how’s that? Maybe I’ll steal a state vehicle and run away so you will have to find me.

Beautiful.

Bye for now, Mr. Brown.

Good bye, Governor.

#

Two men and one woman gathered in the National Historic Site, Hassayampa Inn, on Gurley Street in Prescott, Arizona. An Executive Suite was all theirs complete with hor d’oevres, drinks, and a round table to allow for no one person at the head. The group had met before to no final result due to the arguing about which of them was the lead man or woman. It was not a pretty day for any of them when they put an end to the meeting and left in serious huffs. There is no harmony or trust among thieves, and these three hated each other. The elder wanted them dead, but there was still work to do.

This day the discussion proceeded rather smoothly until they got to the ransom.

She said, I think a cool hundred million should be reachable for a city the size Phoenix.

The youngest chimed in with, Phoenix is worth what, twenty or thirty billion maybe even forty billion dollars easily.

The oldest one let them all know he was still capable with, Peanuts! Woman, I didn’t spend all that money bailing you out the jail in Flagstaff just to have you sit here and think small. I could have gotten many to do that for nothing. Think. He turned to the youngest. I thought you were a big operator. You’re as puny as a starving dog. Let’s try much bigger numbers than those. Your estimates are not enough to cover the cleanup let alone rebuild. You two are peanut gatherers, not true money hungry entrepreneurs. You just aren’t angry enough at this great city. I propose we ransom the Phoenix Metro area for a half billion bucks in gold, silver, and precious jewels, with, shall we say five mil in old hundreds and twenties.

The youngest was in this to learn by watching the pros. I’ll second that.

Two to one, the elder stated.

She said, I’ll go along.

The elder asked, What’s for lunch?

2

2 PM

Governor’s Office

The Hawk sat on the full sized couch along the far wall of the office with a bottle of water in his hand looking content and comfortable. He liked this office. He even had aspirations for this office at one time, but finally came to the realization he had more power where he was than he would ever have in this office.

You need anything else before we begin this little chat, Hawk? the Governor asked as she opened a diet cola carefully to keep from breaking a nail.

Nothing, Governor, absolutely nothing needed. To be here discussing the future of Arizona with you is more than I ever dreamed I’d be doing at this young and tender age.

Bovine Scat, my dear friend, there are a million streams you would rather be soaking your feet and a dry fly in, and you know it. How much longer are you going to play this game, Hawk?

You know me too well, Lady Governor. He took a sip of his water before looking at her again. In his mind the respect he had for this woman was just piling up on itself. He had known her for years, but only when she became Governor had her real abilities and charisma boiled over and he got to be involved at every level. Plus, his influence with her and for her was addictive to him. "What’s on your mind today after whupping up on those clowns that