Ashes - Ambush In The Ashes Part 15

But that still did not explain the "why" of Paula being left over here.

Mike's people had found that other state department personnel who had survived the Great War had been either brought back Stateside by their government or managed to find their way back.

So what was the real story behind Paula's staying?

As much as Ben hated to even entertain the thought, his mind kept returning to one conclusion: Bruno Bottger.

But would an avowed socialist work for a fascist? Really give her heart and mind to such a philosophy?

"Sure seems as though that happened in this case," Ben muttered.

"Ike on the horn, boss," Corrie broke into his thoughts.

Ben walked to the radio and picked up the mic. "Go ahead, Ike?"

"Ben, we're doing a lot of good work with the people, but the gangs keep running away toward the south. It's almost as though they want us to follow them.""I think they do, Ike. I think Bruno is behind this whole d.a.m.n scenario."

"They're not going to be able to flank us, Ben. Not 132.

in any strength. We've got eyes in the sky every moment. They'd pick it up. So what's his plan?"

"What's your estimate of the gang strength, combined?"

"A hundred thousand or so, and that's probably figuring on the low end."

"I agree that's low. Say . . . the equivalent of seven or eight divisions."

"All right."

"That's a h.e.l.l of a buffer zone, Ike. Especially with long-range artillery laying back and giving them support."

Ben could almost hear Ike sigh. "Well . . . that's the way I had it figured, Ben. But what is the point of Bruno allowing us to get all these hundreds of thousands of people well and healthy . . . Oh, s.h.i.+t!"

he suddenly said.

"That's right, Ike. He's got people scattered throughout the starving, hundreds, maybe thousands of infiltrators, ready to rise up and take up arms when we do b.u.t.t heads with the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. He's had several years to recruit, promising them all sorts of things in return for their support."

"And we have no way of knowing who they are so we can flush them out."

"That's right."

"We'll be fighting on two fronts."

"If we're both right in our a.s.sumption. But I could be way off base.

It's still pretty early and things are iffy at this stage."

"Well, h.e.l.l, Ben. Even if the gangs are not affiliated with Bruno, we've still got to fight them at some point. And with that many of them, we'll be held up and sure to take casualties."

"Unfortunately, you're right."

"Any word on the ringer?" He meant Paula.

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133.

"Ike, I think she's working for Bruno."

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h! How do you figure she got hooked up with him?"

"Through the people who ramrodded the reunification of the States back home."

There was a long pause from hundreds of miles away as the full impact ofwhat Ben had just said struck home to Ike. "Ben . . . are you serious."

"Yes, I am, Ike. I ..." He cut his eyes to Jersey, who had just been handed a slip of paper and had stiffened as she read it. She motioned to Ben to cut it short. "Back in a few, Ike. I think we may have a little trouble here."

"Okay, Ben. Take it easy."

"What's up, Jersey?"

"Intel says something's in the wind. There is some unusual movement among the locals in the city and we've got several hundred people all moving toward the airport in small groups."

"Any sign of weapons?"

"All of them carrying bundles about three feet long."

"My, my," Ben said with a grin. "You don't suppose they're going camping this late in the evening, do you?"

"I kinda doubt it, boss."

Ben glanced at Corrie. She nodded. "Everybody's on alert."

Ben picked up his CAR and looked around the large room. Cooper had set up his squad automatic weapon and had placed extra two hundred round magazines close by. Anna and Beth had taken up positions at the rear of the room, facing away from the runways. Corrie picked up her CAR and smiled at Ben.

"Rock and roll," she said.

"Indeed we shall," Ben replied, just as the first sounds of gunfire reached their ears. "Cut the lights."

The room was suddenly plunged into darkness.

134.

William W. Johnstone "Groups of people swarming all over the airport," Corrie spoke calmly.

"One large group attempting to cross the runways."

"They won't make it," Ben said softly, just as Rebel .50 caliber machine guns opened up.

Portable lights set up all around the area clicked on and the harsh beams showed dozens of men either lying very still in darkening pools of blood or flopping around in twisted pain on the runways.

"Fools," Ben muttered.

A face filled with hate suddenly appeared in a window and Ben leveled his CAR and squeezed the trigger. The face dissolved in a spurt of blood and shattered bone. Another face took its place and Ben's CAR bucked in his big hands. The top of the man's head splintered apart and gray matter splattered.Cooper's bi-podded SAW began yammering and a line of figures went down in boneless sprawls as the 5.56 rounds st.i.tched them from left to right in the center of the body.

"It's heavier than antic.i.p.ated," Corrie shouted over the rattle of battle. "A large contingent of reinforcements coming in from the north."

A man suddenly shoved a weapon through the smashed window near Corrie and without changing expression she one-handed lifted her CAR and pulled the trigger. The 5.56mm rounds took the man first in the throat and then left a hole-pocked, bone-splintered, and b.l.o.o.d.y trail from his chin to the top of his head as the CAR rose on full auto.

"a.s.shole," Corrie was heard to mutter.

A grenade sailed through a smashed window and without hesitation Anna scooped it up and hurled it back outside. "Hit the floor!" she shouted.

Ben and team hit the bra.s.s-littered floor just as the grenade exploded outside the CP, waist-high about 135.

135.

three feet in front of a group of charging infiltrators. The shrapnel shredded living flesh and the torn bodies were flung around like puppets with a madman manipulating the strings.

Witfi their ears still ringing from the concussion, Ben and team rose to their boots and once more took their positions. But the attackers had s.h.i.+fted their attack away from the small cl.u.s.ter of buildings-which included Ben's GP-and seemingly were concentrating on attempting to overrun Rebel positions around the airport.

Bad mistake on the part of whoever was in charge of the enemy operation.

Ben and his team could hear the battle raging all around them, but for now, their part of the airport complex was quiet except for the moaning of the wounded outside.

"My G.o.d!" came the call from outside. "Is it all right to come in there?"

Ben recognized the voice as belonging to Stan Travis. "Come on. Stay low and get on the floor as soon as you enter the building."

Jersey jerked open the door and Ben could almost see her smile in the darkness as Marilyn d.i.c.kson came crawling in on all fours. He braced himself for what he was sure was going to be a very caustic comment from Jersey.

She didn't disappoint him.

"d.a.m.n," the diminutive bodyguard said sarcastically. "Looks like a big-a.s.sed crab crawling in."

Stan Travis came crawling in right behind Marilyn, then Ford McLachlan, and finally came Paula Preston, bringing up the rear."Four big-a.s.sed crabs," Jersey said.

"Your people told us this area was secure!" Marilyn squalled indignantly.

"Funny thing about war," Ben said calmly. "Things 136.

can and often do change very quickly. Get over against that wall to your left, people. And stay down. You'll be reasonably safe."

"You mean it isn't over?" Marilyn asked.

"I doubt it, lady," Ben told her. "It'll probably break loose again in a few minutes."

Ben cut his eyes, which were accustomed to the dim light, to Paula. The woman did not appear to be frightened or upset. Ben had him a hunch that Paula would stand up to a spitting cobra and face it down. She was one h.e.l.l of an actress, probably trained by the CIA at The Farm down in Virginia . . . years back.

Paula felt his eyes on her and met his gaze with a level gaze of her own.

She knows I'm onto her game, Ben thought. h.e.l.l, it was only a matter of time before she figured it out. It just might get real interesting after this.

"Here they come!" Corrie called. "They've split their forces. I just got a flash from Lieutenant Scott. They took a prisoner and the prisoner blabbed. They're after you."

"My, my," Ben quipped, seating a fresh magazine into the belly of the CAR. "All this great big fuss over little ol' me. I'm flattered."

Ben could hear Marilyn's snort of derision at that. Marilyn shrieked as a burst of automatic gunfire shattered what was left of some of the windows and splintered the wall behind her, sending bits of plaster and wood raining down on her head.

"I believe they're really going to get serious about it now," Anna said.

"I think you're right, baby," Ben told her, and that got him a sharp look from Marilyn. "She's my daughter, Ms. d.i.c.kson," Ben explained the familiarity.

"Your daughter!" Marilyn blurted.

"Yeah, lady," Anna told her. "But right now, we don't have time to explain our family tree."

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"Daughter?" Ford muttered. "I didn't know that."

"I didn't either," Stan said.

"But she's just a child!" Marilyn exclaimed. "She couldn't be overeighteen years old!"

"Yeah; something like that," Ben agreed.

"Something like that?" Paula got into the conversation. "You mean you don't know how old your own daughter is?"

"Not really," Ben admitted.

"That's disgusting!" Ford said.

"Well, I can come within a year or so," Ben replied, keeping one eye on the outside for any sign of movement while he had a good time putting on the reporters.

"Where is the child's mother?" Marilyn asked.

"d.a.m.ned if I know."

"You mean you deserted her?" Paula asked.

"Well, not exactly."

"You . . . you beast!" Marilyn said.

Anna started laughing softly and the civilians cut their eyes to her dim shape. "We had them going there for a while, didn't we, General Ben?"