Patch

Black Hawk




OH-58 Kiowa Warrior

These are the bad ass Helicopters that are chasing Rob and his friends.






Navajo Mountain


….,” Rob, we should of left them trapped in that chopper, only prayer got us out of this jam.”



We were now standing outside the shack as all activity had seemed to stop. With the sun setting in the west and everything still wet from the rain, it was a beautiful setting. The slick rock had a shine to it from the sun reflecting off the wet rock and the few Pinion trees were as green as green could be and smelled wonderful.

If the special operations team thinks we’re dead, we might have a chance to escape from here and get up to Navajo Mountain. Once there, who knows?

“Guys,” I tell my friends, “soon as its dark, get the horses back in the corral and lets get set up to leave here at first light.”

“Where we going, Rob?”

“Navajo Mountain.”

Dark came like it usually does in the desert, very fast. Tony takes the horses out to the corral; Dave prepares our gear for an early start. And I start thinking of our next move.

I doubt that the special ops team is out of our hair, we may have got them off our trail for now but sooner or later they will realize that we are alive and well.

Tony thinks his Indian death chant saved us from the commandos, I don’t think so. I also don’t think the special ops team is made up of Navy Seals. Navy Seals would have found our escape route before we did. No, these guys, I think, are civilians made up as Navy Seals. And why they let us get away is another mystery.

Dave bugs me, why would he pass UFO information to me knowing it was against Air Force regulations and would cost him his commission?

Tony is another problem, this is a vast territory we’re traveling through, yet he seems to know every step of the way. No second guesses, go here, and go there, there’s a cave right ahead of us. No one can possibly know how to travel through this land as well as Tony is doing, not even a Indian.

And Rich, good question, right now he’s nothing but a zombie. But he also has an obvious connection to the Extra Terrestrials.

Right now the only thing I trust is that big mule that I’m riding. The best horses (Mule) I ever rode. Steady as a rock, surefooted as a goat.

Still it's hard to believe these guys might not be on my side. Dodging commando teams in Blackhawk helicopters is not something one does for fun.

Well, it’s been a long day, time to eat and get some sleep and rest. We are going to most likely need both as getting to Navajo Mountain undetected is highly unlikely.


Daybreak, and something is touching my shoulder, quickly as I could, I spin around and hit whatever it was , it was Tony, I had slugged him right on the jaw and knocked him on his ass.

“The man said , trust me,” mumbles Tony, ”I won’t hit you. That’s ok Rob, my fault, I knew better”

“Sorry Tony, I was dreaming that G.W. Bush clones were after me.”

Tony still mumbling, ”never trust a white man,” gets up and walks out to the corral.

Dave comes over, laughing his butt off and hands me a cup of coffee. “That is the funniest thing that’s happen to us so far,” he comments.

Tony comes back in and we all get something to eat, drink the rest of the coffee, pack everything up and load the horses. The last thing is to get Rich up on one the horses and tie him on so he won’t fall off. Off we go, to Navajo Mountain.

Navajo Mountain is northwest of and about 100 air miles from where we start. Tony has no idea how far it is by horseback. Off we go still trusting to day time travel as we all three believe the commandos own the night. And where is the Bush special ops team? There has been no sign of it, but we’ll take whatever advantage they give us.

We now have to cross US route 163 north of Kayenta. We follow a wash that the highway bridges, the plan is to keep more or less hid in the wash until we get on the other side of the road.

The plan doesn’t work to well, as standing on the bridge are two Navajos. Soon as they see us, they wave a come ahead wave and with little choice we go a head.

“Tony” one of the Navajo says, “ you are in deep sh** and we are here to save your ass, along with your friends.”

“How you going to do that?” inquires Tony.

“We have an 18 wheeler stock trailer, your outfit is going to get in it and we are going to truck you as close as we can to Navajo Mountain.” They reply.

“Why”

“Because we want you to get these UFO guys off the reservation as soon as you can”

“Why”

“Do any of you know how much chaos has been created by the commando team that’s searching for you all? The whole nation is in an uproar, with this team blowing things up, searching every house, car and person in the nation. Helicopters flying over everything.’

“The last we heard, they thought we were dead”

“Not anymore, this morning, they gained entrance to the cave and found how you guys escaped. They have a massive search operation going looking for you, so far they think you are still hiding in that slot canyon, they can’t believe you got out of there without being discovered.”

“Why do think we would be safe riding in a stock trailer?” I ask

“Because there is going to be a million helicopters looking for you as soon as that ops team realizes you’re not in that canyon. Our truck has already been searched twice, its full of sheep and horses. We have some bales of straw in it that you can use to make a place to hide, doing that and with all the stock, maybe they won’t see you. The longer you stay out in the open desert the better chance the ops team will detect you.”

Makes sense, so we have the Navajos bring up the stock trailer and we clamber aboard. Inside the trailer, we make a hollow square out of the straw bales to hide in. Off we go heading towards Navajo Mountain.

We hadn’t gone two miles, when a Blackhawk flew up parallel to the truck and gives it a hard look over, then peels off, apparently satisfied the truck held only stock. We watch the chopper go back to the wash we had been traveling in and start flying along searching it.

“Good move, Rob,” said Dave, “if we had stayed in that wash, it would have been over for us.”

“Well we aren’t out of here yet.” I reply, “Navajo Mountain is still a hundred miles away.”

About three hours later, the truck is traveling down a very primitive road, that’s paralleling the another deep wash. The road turns to the right away from the wash and starts up a steep ridge and just a few yards from the top of the hill, the truck motor coughs and dies. The Navajo’s that were driving jump out of the truck cab and start throwing rocks under the wheels, as the truck slowly starts to coast backwards. The rocks miss the wheels as the Indians are to drunk to see straight and the truck rolls right pass the rocks.

I yell, ”get out, bailout.” By the time we manage to crawl out from under the bales of straw the truck is going so fast that we can see that we won’t get out before the truck leaves the road and flies off into the wash. The wash is a good 50 ft. deep; it’s going to be one heck of a wreck when we hit the bottom of it.

As we watch the edge of the wash come closer, the beach ball UFO zooms down from somewhere and throws a vail of light down right at the point the truck will go off the edge of the wash. We hit this vail of light but don’t go through it, instead the vial stretches like a huge rubber band, bringing the truck to a gentle halt with the back wheels hanging over the wash. The vial doesn’t snapback like we expected but just eases off slowly bringing the truck to a halt in the middle of the road. The UFO turns off the light and zooms a way leaving us with big eyes and brown shorts again.

The Navajos who had chased the truck all the way down the hill, quickly chocked the wheels and opened the tailgate and peeped in, with a look of astonishment on their faces.

“How did truck stop?” They ask, and fall over laughing hysterically, “truck has no brakes!!”

Tony starts yelling, ”I’m gonna kill those drunken sons of bi****s”

“Hold on Tony” I tell him, “let’s get the horses off the trailer and lets get outta here before that chopper comes back”

Shortly we are mounted up and getting away from that truck. We make it down into the wash and head up it into another small canyon that leads us to some of the roughest country we’ve been in so far.

Rainbow Bridge and Lake Powell is off to our left and Navajo Mountain is on our right as we head in a northeasterly direction to where Tony says the UFO staging area lays. He also tells us this is the remotest and driest part of the reservation. Lake Powell is to our north but almost impossible to reach from here. This country is mostly slick rock cut up by hundreds of canyons, most of which are impossible to navigate. The only luck we have is that’s it’s been raining leaving lots of water in pot holes, without water we will have to surrender or die.

For the next two days, Tony leads us across this country over trails that looked impossible. Many of times a slip would have produced a fall of 2 or 3 hundred feet into a canyon. We stay out of the high open country as much as possible, helicopters are up in force and there is no doubt that we are the targets being searched for.

Late Sunday afternoon, we round a bend in the canyon and look out on a huge amphitheater, in which sets seven UFOs, two huge ones, two smaller ones and three beach ball sized ones. The two larger ones are football shaped, pointed on both ends but flat in the middle along the top and bottom, the two smaller ones are shaped like nuclear submarines without conning towers, and the three beach balls. They are all hovering or floating about 20 meters off the canyon floor and as we ride into view, they all turn as one facing us. The three beach balls race out about half way between the two parties, stop and slowly spin at maybe three revolutions a minute.

Over this amphitheater is a vail of light that is no doubt camouflage. We continue to ride into the amphitheater until the beach balls start giving off signs that we are getting too close. Over on the left side of the amphitheater are three small cottonwood trees and a small spring.

“Guys, we’ll camp under the trees and wait to see what if anything these UFOs want of us.”

As we are setting up camp, two OH-58 Kiowa Warrior helicopters fly over the canyon, this is the first time we have this seen model helicopter and it’s not a particularly good sight.

(The OH-58D Kiowa Warrior is a two-seat, single-engine, four-bladed single main rotor light helicopter with a low light television, thermal imaging system, and laser range finder/designator incorporated into an above the rotor Mast Mounted Sight (MMS). It is designed to operate autonomously at standoff ranges providing armed reconnaissance, command and control, and target acquisition and designation under day/night, hot, and adverse weather conditions.)

These are bad assed choppers, but the UFO camouflage works to perfection and they fly on none the wiser to our location.

We finish setting up camp, eat, then settle down to wait on the UFOs to do whatever the UFOs are going to do. One of the beach ball UFOs zips over, shoots out a tentacle and points at my laptop computer. I power the thing up and the tentacle taps out this message;

“ In the morning boot up this computer and your plan of operations can be read, follow the plan exactly and you will accomplish the mission.”

???????????

Tony Begaye, The Worlds Ugliest Indian

Rich, Suspected Extra Terrestrail

Major Dave Jones,Ex USAF Intel Officer




Navajo Mountain








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