Ashes - Battle In The Ashes Part 7

Hans Brodermann stared at the wild-eyed man with blood from a slight head-wound trickling down one side of his face. "No," Brodermann, finally found his voice. He coughed to clear his throat of the nearly choking smoke that swirled all around the camp. "Raines would love that.

You may be sure he has planted ambush teams all along the roadways, hoping for us to pursue. Are we in contact with the other battalions?"

"All units seem to have been attacked. The Rebels struck at every location. We have reports that bridges were blown all around us."

"Send out small patrols to a.s.sess the damage. Check the forward posts. I have a hunch you will find only dead men."

"Yes, sir. I will send men over to right your trailer and start repairs."

Brodermann turned and looked at his bullet-pocked quarters, lying on its side like some dead prehistoric beast. "Leave the son of a b.i.t.c.h where it is," he said bitterly. "You can bet Ben Raines does not have such luxury with him. We can no longer count on fighting a 94.conventional war, Willie. When all damages have been tallied, report to me. Then I must report to Field Marshal Hoffman. It is a bitter day, Willie. A bitter day." Hundreds of yards away from Hans Brodermann, two senior SS sergeants looked at one another. One said, "I think we made a mistake in coming to North America. A very fatal mistake."

95.Chapter Eight.The Rebels lost five people, with a dozen wounded, two of them seriously. Miles north of the burning camps of Brodermann's troops, they quietly buried their dead in secluded places and conducted simple ceremonies.

Then they mounted up and pulled out, heading for a central rendezvous point.

"Spread out," Ben told his people. "From the Devils River in the west tothe San Jacinto in the east. Hit whatever you think you can successfully tackle. I want these goose-stepping b.a.s.t.a.r.ds held below the twenty-eighth parallel for as long as possible. The longer we can contain them down here, the stronger our people get above the thirty-sixth." The Rebel commanders shook hands all the way around and took off.

Ben and his teams moved to just outside Kerrville, secured their vehicles in several of the many buildings in the old religious encampment, and settled in, monitoring the still-frantic radio transmissions from the Black-s.h.i.+rts.

Even Ben was stunned to learn that the attacks had killed or wounded nearly half of Brodermann's forces.

96.His eyes touched the eyes of his team and several other Rebels attached to him. The eyes were smiling, hard warrior smiles.

It was then that Ben realized the Rebel movement would never die, never be defeated. As long as there was one Rebel left alive, the movement would live. The Rebels did not consider their way to be perfect. They were not striving for perfection. The past system of justice and law and order and all that went with the forming of a society had deteriorated to a confusing and non-workable mess when the Great War came and wiped the slate clean. Then the Rebels spent years cleaning out the sc.u.m and the dregs of society, the human predators. They knew their system of government worked; they had seen it work for nearly a decade. Not for everybody, for a system of laws and rules cannot be devised that will please everyone. But enough people agreed with the Rebel way to try to live under it, with more coming in everyday.

It would not die. The Rebels would not, could not, let it die.

And Ben knew they wouldn't let that happen.

"Company coming," a guard called out. "Forward people are bringing them in."

Ben stepped out to meet the people, and pegged them at once. Religious fanatics. He'd never met a religious fanatic yet who didn't share, to some degree, the same look of arrogant smugness, of a closed mind to all opinions save what they personally embraced, and they all irritated the h.e.l.l out of Ben.

"General Raines," the Rebel said, "these people are from something called the Church of the Only Holy Way."

97."Wonderful," Ben muttered. "I guess that means if you don't belong to their faith you will be denied entrance to Heaven."

"Exactly, sir," one of the younger men in the group said.

"Horses.h.i.+t," Ben told him.

The young man blinked. "I beg to remind you there are ladies present, sir."

"If you say so." Ben looked at the dozen or so men and women, most ofthem in their late twenties or early thirties. They all looked healthy and well-fed. And Ben didn't like or trust any of them. "What do you people want?"

"Protection from the advancing hordes of mongrels."

"Where are your weapons?"

"We don't believe in violence, sir."

"Then turn right around and carry your b.u.t.ts on out of here," Ben replied. "I'm not your nanny."

"General," a rather pretty woman said.

"I'm not going to argue the point with you, lady. If you don't place enough value on your life to fight for it, then I have no use for you.

Now is there anything else you want?"

"I was told you were a cruel man, General Raines," a beady-eyed young man said, waving a Bible at Ben. "But until now, I did not realize just how cruel."

Ben stared at the young man. It has been noted by everyone who ever got personally close to Ben that when he stared at you, his eyes could take on the predatory stare of an eagle just before it sank its talons into prey. The young man suddenly got a case of the twitchy-itches.

"I may be cruel, sonny-boy. That's not for me to decide.

98.But what I really am is a realist. And you are beginning to get on my nerves. Now it would be a very wise thing for you and your little group of religious bigots to get in your jalopies or on your bicycles and drive or pedal the h.e.l.l north. Up to the thirty-sixth parallel. That is roughly a line stretching east to west, right across the center of the nation. It goes through some fascinating places. Roanoke, Louisville, St. Louis, Colorado Springs. Of course, few of those cities are standing now, but I'm sure you could find some converts among the rubble. I'm equally certain they would rape your women, b.u.t.t-f.u.c.k you men, and then turn you into slaves, swap you off for a good horse, or have you for dinner. And if you're so stupid you won't pick up a weapon to save your own lives, then I want nothing to do with you. Now get the h.e.l.l out of here."

"May G.o.d strike you dead, Ben Raines!" a woman shouted.

Ben laughed at her. "Now that is interesting, lady. First you tell me you don't believe in violence, now you're imploring G.o.d to strike me dead. You're not very consistent, are you?"

She stood and glared at him.

Ben said, "Get them out of here and on their way north. Somebody up there will look after them."

"Suppose they won't go?" the Rebel asked.

Ben shrugged his shoulders. "Then that makes it their problem, doesn't it?""You'll burn in the h.e.l.l-fires for this, Ben Raines," the beady-eyed young man shouted, waving his Bible "G.o.d is on our side."

"I do believe I've heard that one before," Jersey muttered.

99.Ben smiled and waved at the group and stepped back inside the building.

Some of the religious fanatics tried to follow him. Jersey stopped that movement by applying the b.u.t.t of her M-16 to the belly of the beady-eyed follower of the Church of the Only Holy Way. He folded up like a piece of paper and hit the ground, coughing and gagging.

"You'll suffer mightily for that, sister!" a woman shouted. "For you have struck a messenger from G.o.d."

Jersey narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to give the woman a personal message. A very personal message. Cooper could attest to the fact that when Jersey decided to verbally unload on a person, it was like firecrackers exploding around one's head.

"Let it alone, Jersey," Ben said from the open doorway. "It just isn't worth it. Believe me, I know from experience."

When Jersey gave the beady-eyed messenger the b.u.t.t of her rifle, the area around the front of the house suddenly filled with armed Rebels.

The group who had confronted Ben very quickly got the message: their lives were on the line, and they were toeing that line awfully close.

"Peace, brothers and sisters," one of the group said. "Allow us to leave and we shall depart quietly."

"Haul your b.u.t.ts, then," Cooper said.

The group got their messenger up on his feet and led him away. He was a little pale and a tad shaky.

Ben was studying a map when his team joined him in the large office of the old complex. A seasoned Rebel medic, but a newcomer to Ben's personal detachment, said, "You don't like those kinds of people very much, do you, General."

100.Ben looked up and smiled at the Rebel. A medic that Doctor Chase had transferred to Ben's command. "Book-burners," he said. "Self-appointed censors hiding behind their own narrow interpretation of the Bible. In their own way, they are no better than the worst racist group we have ever encountered. We demand a lot from our own people, but there is no one religion among our ranks. I don't care if you wors.h.i.+p a k.u.mquat.

Just don't try to force me to do it. I've disliked those kinds of people ever since I was old enough to reason. They're bullies and cowards waving a Bible. I don't give a d.a.m.n what happens to them." He put his reading gla.s.ses back on and resumed his studying of the map. The subject was closed.

Field Marshal Jesus Hoffman sat in his quarters and looked at the wall.

The report transmitted from General Hans Brodermann and typed up by his staff lay on his desk. The most elite and combat-experienced of all histroops had been overrun and their numbers cut in half by a Rebel sneak attack during the predawn hours. Tons of equipment lost. Vehicles destroyed. Hundreds of weapons and thousands of rounds of ammunition gone, much of it taken by the marauding Rebels. His people were badly demoralized. The advance had been brought to an abrupt halt.

What manner of men and women were these Rebels?

He called out at the knock on his door, and the office filled with his most experienced commanders, from Captain to General. They sat at his gesture and waited in silence.

Hoffman stood up and looked at the group. Finally he 101.

said, "We have marched thousands of miles. We have faced and overcome savage Indian tribes and armies whose numbers were ten times greater than those of the Rebels. Now we have scarcely advanced one hundred and fifty miles into North America and our losses number into the thousands.

And they have been inflicted upon us by a band of men and women whose numbers don't even equal one of our divisions.

"To the west of us, a mere three battalions of Rebels have effectively halted our advance into California, Arizona, and New Mexico. A very magnificent advance of ten to fifteen miles, I might add. The entire way drenched with blood. Our blood-not theirs. Disgraceful. To date, a rag tag band of North American malcontents, led by a middle-aged man, have managed to bring down the government of the United States, wipe out most of the bands of outlaws and mercenaries, kill off the world's best known and respected terrorists, defeat and destroy the armies of Khamsin, Lan Villar, and others, then sail halfway around the world and defeat Jack Hunt and his armies in Ireland, move to England and destroy the gangs there, free Hawaii, and now they have stopped us dead in our tracks. How?"

His commanders remained silent. They no more had the answer to that than did Field Marshal Hoffman.

Hoffman did not let up. "And to further worsen the situation, Ben Raines has not defeated us with mighty salvos of artillery and huge tank battles. His people are attacking in small numbers in pickup trucks and light vehicles. And on at least two occasions my armies have been stopped and humiliated by a bunch of G.o.dd.a.m.n Texas cowboys on horseback!

We are the finest equipped army on the face of the earth"-Wrong! He just thought 102.

that. Ben's Rebels had equipment that Hoffman and his people did not even know existed-"and our people are being defeated by mounted Texas Rangers. On horseback, for G.o.d's sake! Charging us with six-shooters blazing!"

"Ah, actually, Field Marshal," a general dared contradict, "most of those Rangers were using 9-mm semiautomatic pistols and H&Ks or Uzis."

"They were still riding G.o.dd.a.m.n horses, weren't they?" Hoffman flared, sitting down behind his desk.

"Ah ... yes, sir. Twice, that we know of.""What do you mean: 'that we know of?' "

"They don't take prisoners, sir. And they seldom leave survivors."

"Well, don't just sit there with your long faces hanging out. You are among the finest minds I have. Give me some suggestions and solutions."

A young major stood up. "Sir. What Ben Raines wants us to do is break up our forces and fight him guerrilla style. I feel that would be a grave mistake."

"State your objections to that," Hoffman ordered.

"General Raines and all his commanders know the country. They know it from coast to coast, border to border. They have supplies hidden in hundreds, perhaps thousands of secret caches. They have millions and millions of gallons of fuel hidden. Probably billions of rounds of ammunition and explosives. Several years ago our intelligence people reported that Raines' doctors and scientists have antibiotics-in powder form, sealed in air-tight containers-which will last for years. All they have to do is set up a portable lab, add water, or a few chemicals, and go from there. General Raines planned for this invasion, all the while hoping it would never come, but he was certainly going to be ready for it if it did occur. Our 103.

supplies are right now days behind us, struggling to reach us. And that's if we don't move from this location. I realize I am the youngest and least experienced man here, Field Marshal. But you asked for suggestions. I am afraid I do not have any solutions."

"Thank you for speaking your mind, Major." Hoffman knew the young major was brilliant, and felt that he had not spoken everything on his mind.

He smiled at the major. "What would you do if you were sitting in this chair instead of me?"

"I honestly do not know, sir. And I admit that I have thought of what I might do. I could reach no conclusion."

Hoffman stared at the young major for a moment, then nodded his head.

"Thank you, Major Weber. I appreciate your candor."

Weber sat down. He knew he had not won any points with the older commanders present, but he had won some points with the Field Marshal, and that was all that mattered.

Hoffman drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. "General Brodermann learned a hard lesson about the Rebels. But what happened was not entirely his fault. We had to learn how the enemy would fight, and now we know. With savage ruthlessness. Giving no quarter, asking none.

And that's the way we must fight them. We will hold here until our supplies reach us. A week; no more than that. Brodermann has asked that he be allowed to maintain his point position. I have said yes. General Schiller, start our terrorist groups marching at once. Spread them all over the nation. They know what they must do, and being terrorists, they do it extremely well."

104"Yes, Field Marshal. At once."

"General Jahn, are your fallschirmtruppen ready?"

"Ya, Field Marshal. My paratroops are ready to go at your signal."

"Colonel Barlach, are you ready to receive prisoners for interrogation?"

"Yes, sir."

Hoffman smiled. "General Daimler?"

"Sir?"

"Do be so kind as to bring Colonel Barlach some prisoners. You know how testy he can be when he is not inflicting pain on someone."

105.

Chapter Nine."General Payon's eyes and ears in Mexico say that Hoffman's supply trucks will reach him in less than a week. Planes are already landing at the strip near his CP," Corrie said.

"I wish I knew what he was up to," Ben mused. "Beth, did our people get anything of value from those prisoners we picked up and s.h.i.+pped over to Cecil?"

"Nothing, sir. They just don't know anything of value. Obviously, Hoffman and his top people play it pretty close to the vest."

"And reports of random acts of terrorism are still coming in?"

"Yes, sir," Corrie said. "Savage, brutal, and totally senseless acts."

"He's cut his radical fringe loose," Ben said.

"All those messages we received for years were true," Beth said. "The hate for America never died."

"So it seems," Ben said softly. "Those fruitcake groups still hate America and Americans as much, or more, as before. I didn't understand it then, and I still don't." He smiled at his team. "Don't look so startled, 106.