Part Four
The next morning, both Jack and Ellie were up early to make the last leg of their 800 mile trek to Las Vegas. Sunday in Kayenta is not a busy time. But in the best hotel in town, the coffee shop was bustling with tourists wanting their coffee and eggs.
"Ya'ah't'eeh!" The waitress greeted O'Neill and Ellie at the table. Ellie realized it was the traditional Navajo greeting and returned the same. Jack looked at her appreciatively. He hadn't had his coffee yet and was not quite awake and functioning. "What'll it be?"
"Coffee, lots of coffee, please," intoned Jack. "A breakfast burrito and some of that Indian Fry Bread with honey, light on the cinnamon." He gave her his charming smile. Remembering his favorite treat in Navajo country lifted his mood. Fry Bread (dah díníilghaazh) is a traditional Native American food from the Navajo (Diné) tribe. It is made by frying a large slab of dough, about an inch thick and the size of an entire plate, one side at a time. It is a versatile food because it can serve as breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert!
"Chili in the eggs," the waitress asked him? Jack nodded. "And for the lady?"
"Plain eggs and toast, please with tea." Ellie's tastes were simple and she wasn't about to ask for chili in her eggs. Reports she had read after the last episode indicated that Jack was right about the love of chili peppers in this part of the world. "I've been reading about this area for a study I'm conducting. If you don't mind, I would like to take a look around town this morning. And, if possible, I wouldn't mind getting a souvenir."
"I don't know about that. It's Sunday and most places will be closed or at least closed until the afternoon." Breakfast arrived and Jack asked the waitress if any store would be open on Sunday. She told him that most weren't but he should check the gift shop in the hotel as it was extensive.
Jack sighed. Women and shopping were nearly a genetic combination. After breakfast, Jack went through checkout and met up with Ellie in the gift shop. Sure enough there was a pile of Navajo rugs laid out for her to make her choice. Where they were going to put it in the cab he tried to imagine. Fortunately there was always shipping. But she insisted on taking the Kachina dolls with her. Ellie made her purchases and paid cash. He was a little surprised at the bankroll she was carrying. But he figured she meant to do some gambling in Las Vegas with it.
Out in the parking lot, Jack approached the truck to start out. A pickup full of Saturday night now Sunday morning revelers pulled up for pancakes at the Wagon Wheel Restaurant in the hotel. They nearly ran Ellie down and almost hit the truck swinging in beside Jack. Jack spun around as the occupants piled out.
"Hey watch where you're going. You nearly hit us!" He exclaimed.
A really big redneck exited from the passenger's seat and malevolently approached Jack. Ellie wasn't sure what to do. Some of the other good old boys flanked her making crude remarks. All she wanted to do was get in and go.
Another truck pulled in behind Jack's blocking their way out. These fellas knew the first group. One of the men made some harsh remarks, which Jack stood there and took for Ellie's sake. He didn't need more trouble, especially after last night. Being Special Ops meant knowing how to handle people who were out of control. The best course was to apologize and agree with them until they left. Keeping a calm demeanor was Jack's specialty. But the calmer he was the more incited the partially drunk and very belligerent group became. The big one just wasn't going to let it go.
Another guest came out and saw his car was blocked by the oversized pickups and hollered at the group to let him out. Being from New York, he only added fuel to the fire. The locals heaped abuse on him for being a New Yorker. This guy was the type who didn't take crap from anyone much less a bunch of nobodies from the boondocks. After all, he grew up in Brooklyn with 'connections.'
Before Jack could retreat, a fight broke out between the New Yorkers and the locals. One of the New Yorkers grabbed Ellie from behind. Ostensibly he meant to move her. But she whacked him with her fully loaded purse. He yelled. Jack lunged. On-lookers came out from the hotel. So did security. The security officer sent for the police.
At that point, Navajo Tribal Police arrived. The Navajo Nation is a separate jurisdiction in the United States by treaty with the Indians. They have their own internal government and police force. Kayenta is also the only incorporated township on a reservation larger than ten states put together. The Navajo Nation has its own president, legislature, and jail in Window Rock, Arizona. But Kayenta has a small police force and an old jail. And that's where Jack and Ellie wound up once the tribal police discovered Jack's ankle holster with a loaded service pistol. Being on tribal lands with a concealed weapon was a federal offense.
Plenty of tourists pass through Kayenta. The police there have seen it all before. Normally, an altercation involving hotel guests and a bunch of half-drunken local yahoos would have been handled differently. Obviously, they were old hands at this because the charges against Ellie were dismissed. So she went back for Jack's truck.
As an active duty officer, Jack was required to carry a weapon. Usually, he favored an ankle holster. But Jack could not prove his active duty status. Accidentally, O'Neill had left his Air Force ID back in the Cortez police station by mistake. The police offered Jack his one phone call. He called the SGC. But even then, the police in Kayenta didn't want to deal with the situation anymore, as it was now a Federal matter. The Bureau of Indian Affairs and the FBI would have to be notified. The paperwork would be horrendous. Hammond would have to pull strings and that would take some time. So, it was off to the pokey for O'Neill, again.
The jail in Kayenta has only two cells holding ten people each. One is for the women. And one is for the men. People, who have been arrested for public drunkenness or are arrested for drunk driving, spend the night there sobering up. At times, the police run out of room in what amounts to a drunk tank, even though alcohol cannot be sold on the reservation. Occasionally after large celebrations, whole families spend the night there sobering up. So they release folks as they sober up according to the least offensive of the crimes. The women are mostly single mothers in for DUI. The two rooms are small with a U-shaped tiled bench against the walls, two small windows, and a drain in the middle of the floor. If business is too good, the police have to ship the excess out to the Shiprock jail nearly 78 miles away or over to Window Rock, almost 128 miles away.
Since it was Sunday morning, the Kayenta jail was full of Saturday night guests. As federal offense suspect, Jack got sent to the Navajo Government Center's Window Rock Jail, which was in the opposite direction from Las Vegas. The Kayenta police didn't have the facilities to deal with him anyway. So Ellie went on to Cortez retrieve the lost ID, leaving Jack to endure a shackled bus ride with a bunch of stinking drunks just sobering up. Needless to say, the aromas didn't put him in a good mood. Sunday wasn't any better than Saturday night in his opinion.
Jack had several hours on the bus to consider his situation. None of it made any sense. Situations like these should have been handled more easily. It was as if someone was making it more difficult than it should be. Ok, it was Sunday morning. So, maybe it was difficult to reach the right people to make this whole thing sort out. But last night in Cortez also seemed to be more difficult than it had to be. Jack kept feeling more was going on than met the eye. He also had the feeling he had seen one of those New York boys before. The information was just out of reach. The only consolation was that the New Yorkers were all locked up as well in Window Rock. By the time he was processed at the Navajo Nation's Police Center, Hammond had done his job. Jack was free to go. Now he just had to wait for Ellie to arrive with his ID and his truck.
Once the police returned Jack's possessions, he made a few calls to the SGC. For one thing, the Colonel had to let the folks at Nellis know he could be late for his morning meeting. For another, he needed to report his suspicions. And it was 460 miles to Las Vegas or about a 7-hour drive without stops. By now, Ellie should have left Cortez. But it was a three-hour drive to Window Rock from Cortez. If he got into Las Vegas by 2 A.M. it would be a miracle.
So Jack requested Air Force flight information. Jack needed to fly to make his meetings. Gallup, New Mexico was the closest airport and Flagstaff, AZ after that. But these were small regional airports and finding the right flights could be difficult. Changing planes took time, too. He needed a military flight. Kirtland AF Base in Albuquerque was only 170 miles away and only 2.5 hours away from Window Rock. He could send for a plane to meet him in Gallup, but Jack didn't feel comfortable leaving Ellie that way. Ellie could get a commercial flight out of Albuquerque as well. Yep. That was the plan. Leave the truck at the Base and send her on commercial plane. Jack made a few more calls and the arrangements were settled by the time Ellie arrived at the jail.
Jack looked at Ellie appreciatively. She had been a real trooper in a tough spot. She was tired from driving nearly five hours plus the adventure in the morning. They caught some dinner where he filled her in on the new plan. But the problem was that she would not get on an airplane, and that was final. In her opinion, they were all just rickety contraptions. So he called Amtrak and found a train leaving Gallup, NM on the Southwest Chief right into Union Station in Las Vegas. Considering all she had managed to do for him, he could accommodate her. And, then he ordered a light plane to get him in Gallup as well.
"Not much of a vacation I suppose," Jack offered apologetically.
"Are you kidding?" Ellie laughed spontaneously. Her eyes crinkled and her generous mouth beamed a huge smile at him. "This is the most fun I have had in years."
"You must not get out much, ma'am." Jack grinned back.
"How can I complain with all the planes, trains, and automobiles. I am wandering in the wilderness with a handsome man. I am having all sorts of adventures I would never have at home. I saw an Indian Reservation. And, I got arrested twice in 24 hours! It's a story I shall tell until the end of my days." Ellie was chortling. "Saved from marauding primitives by the one and only Jack O'Neill. I shall dine out on that one forever."
"Handsome man?" Jack smirked into his cup. "I can live with that." Well, Ellie was no whining female. Any other woman would have been upset by all this. Suddenly her face went dark. Jack followed her gaze and recognized one of the New Yorkers who had been sent with him to the Window Rock jail. "Know him?"
"He's the one I struck with my purse. See the bruise on his cheek?" Ellie put her head down into her coffee cup. "Let's get out of here, Jack. I don't need to start anything again." Jack paid the check and escorted her to the door. The New Yorker saw them and stood up to walk over. Even the look Jack shot him didn't make the man sit back down.
"Now what?" Jack relaxed ready to strike as the man approached closer.
"Hey, I just want to say no hard feelings, pal." The man stuck out his ham-fisted paw. Jack noticed the man's knuckles were torn from the fight. "Lady, I was just trying to get you outta da way. Sorry." Well, that was the last thing either of them expected.
"Sure pal, none taken." Jack offered his hand back, thoroughly memorizing the face. Ellie seemed bothered by the whole incident. She nodded curtly and moved closer to Jack. His lady friend was frightened he could tell. One look at her and Jack realized she knew something more about this man. The two exchanged looks of acknowledgement. It wasn't friendly. Jack maneuvered her outside and they got in the truck. "Want to tell me what that was all about in there?" He started the engine. The tank was full. Sweet.
"What?"
"C'mon, you knew the guy. Why not say so?" Jack asked softly as they pulled out of the parking lot.
"I don't know him. I know who he works for. I don't like them."
"How do you know, Ellie?"
"I got to talking to folks in the jail when I was waiting for you, back in Kayenta." Ellie seemed to withdraw.
"Not fair. What else?"
"These people can be unpleasant. I was surprised he apologized. It's out of character. And that makes me nervous." She looked out the window at the endless miles of nothing.
"Anything I should know?"
"I'm not sure." Ellie sighed. "There are some very competitive people who want to use my research. He's from the other side." She fell silent not knowing how to explain it to him.
"Competitive anthropology? C'mon, there has to be more to it." Jack felt like talking and talking about her for a change. "He didn't look like the anthropology type."
"No, he works for someone who uses the data. I don't agree with their methods. That's all." Clearly, she was being evasive.
"What's he doing here?"
"I don't know. And that's what makes me nervous. What could they possibly be doing way out here?"
"And why are they here at the same time is what you want to say." Jack was no fool. There was much more at stake than studying an Indian Reservation. "No coincidence?"
"I don't think so. The whole thing is disturbing. They had to know where we were exactly. We didn't even know where we would stay last night. How could they just be there in the morning?" Ellie tried to laugh it off saying, "I must watch too many conspiracy shows on TV. What's that one where they ride around in the desert in big black trucks? Oh, what's the name," she paused to think. "Right, the 'X-files.' The one where the guy thinks aliens are running around making a mess of things."
"I'm not a big science fiction fan. I don't think I saw that one." Jack tried to laugh it off too. "Maybe there are aliens running around making a mess of things."
"That's terrible. I mean what if aliens ever showed up? The government would think just like you and decide they were making a mess of things before considering any other possibility." Ellie trailed off. "That sounds weird doesn't it?"
"A little. But continue. Why shouldn't I worry that they are up to no good until I know they are up to know good?" Jack smiled at her jokingly. Her face fell. "Oh, I am not making fun of you. Don't give me that look."
"Of course, you would think protectively before considering that maybe there was a benign reason. You are in the military. So, naturally, you are ready to fight whatever shows up." Ellie turned to him. "What if they didn't want to fight with you? Ever consider that?"
"Ok, that makes no sense. We are talking about aliens, right? Or are we talking about something more home grown?" Jack was ready for a dose of pacifist diatribe.
"No, we are talking about aliens I believe. Oh, you think I'm some kind of anti-war apologist. Well, I'm not. Sometimes you do have to fight. Knowing when is another matter." Ellie paused to gather her thoughts. "Jack, you are in the military. That is a necessary and honorable profession." He nodded accepting her acknowledgment. "I would never suggest otherwise. Serving one's people is the most honorable calling imaginable." Jack made a small gesture of appreciation by putting his hand behind her head and stroking her neck. She was ok, so far. But it was coming.
"But." Jack asked keeping his eyes on the road.
"No buts. Or. Lots of 'or.' I simply think it is not a mutually exclusive situation. Sometimes, the 'or' is not obvious. Two people can experience the same situation and come away with two different interpretations, memories, and understandings. It depends on the biases we all carry in our perceptions." Ellie leaned into the rubbing. It felt good.
"Well, when they start shooting the 'or' is kill or be killed." Jack passed a big truck.
"I am talking about what happens way before the shooting starts. You are just baiting me. Be serious. What if aliens showed up? Would you just start shooting?"
"Depends."
"I would hope that there would be some effort to talk first. But the way things are, even the most peaceful alien doesn't stand a chance here. If you don't shoot them, you would lock them up." Ellie squirmed as his fingers dug in a little too hard. "Ever think of an alternative?"
"You sound just like my friend, Daniel. He's an anthropologist, too. You met him at the hardware store that evening we were being followed." And then it hit him. That's where he saw one of the New Yorkers. It was in the rear view mirror that night they were being followed around Colorado Springs.
