TWENTY-SEVEN
Arnoldo Mendoza began the story of the months he’d spent in Africa under the command of Bruno Bottger, speaking softly as Ortiz twisted his radio controls.
“General Conreid came into Bruno’s subterranean office, his face a ghostly white. He saluted smartly and stood at attention until Bruno spoke to him.
“‘What is so important that you told Rudolf you had to see me right away?’
“Conreid took a deep breath. ‘I have bad news, General Field Marshal.’
“‘I guessed as much. It has to do with your armored division tracking the Rebel bitch, Commander Malone. I use the term loosely.’
“‘I’m afraid so,’ Conreid replied. ‘I sent one of our best field armored commanders, Major Schultz, and almost fifty of our Minsks and Bulldogs. Three hundred men from the Pretorian Guard went along as infantry support . . . ‘
“‘And?’ Bruno was growing impatient, although he had already guessed what Conreid came to tell him.
“‘We engaged the enemy in southern Angola . . .”
“‘It does not matter where! Get on with it!’
“Conreid swallowed hard, and his hands pressed to his legs were shaking. ‘They destroyed us. Every tank was immobilized or blown to bits. Five men escaped on foot in the jungle. One of them just radioed me with a fall report. They had antitank rockets and heavy mortars. Major Schultz is dead and so is everyone else; however, I was told the Rebels captured Captain Klaus, commander of the Pretorian Guard unit. I suppose they intend to question him.’
“Bruno momentarily closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to use his Steyer on General Conreid. Incompetence could not be tolerated. ‘They will torture Klaus, wanting to know about our fortifications here at Pretoria so the information can be sent to General Raines. It is quite clear this bastard Raines intends to storm our headquarters. There is no other explanation for his curious movements.’
“‘I agree,’ Conreid stammered. ‘They move back and forth to confuse us, but every Rebel battalion seems to be moving toward South Africa, toward Pretoria.’
“‘Will this Captain Klaus talk if they torture him?’
“‘That . . . would be difficult to say. He is a brave soldier, as his record shows, but virtually any man will crack under the right amount of pressure.’
“Bruno settled back in his chair. ‘So your brilliant strategy has failed us, General Conreid. You assured me you could find Commander Malone and her Battalion Twelve and crush her soundly. Instead, you tell me we’ve been handed a crushing defeat, losing fifty valuable tanks and their support vehicles.’
“Conreid nodded, having some difficulty finding his voice for the moment. ‘Somehow, they were expecting us at a particularly difficult spot to defend. The survivor who radioed me said it was deep jungle, and that land mines had been well placed in the most strategic and damaging areas.’
“‘Your tanks were drawn into an ambush.’
“‘It would seem so. Schultz was a brilliant field commander, and I’m at a loss to explain it. I can only offer this, and it will seem a weak excuse. The woman, Malone, has virtually no air support; thus she stays in the deepest jungles where our air superiority is of no use. If we could have put the Hinds on top of her, this disaster would not have happened. Colonel Walz had air recon over the area and he found no trace of an entire Rebel battalion in Botswana or Angola. We found out where Battalion Twelve was from a Zulu mercenary. Walz could give us nothing at all.’
“‘Then it would seem I have incompetent men directing our aircraft and our armored divisions,’ Bruno told him, as his anger multiplied. He leaned forward and slammed his fist on the desk.
“Conreid flinched, but said nothing, as Bruno fixed him with a steely-eyed stare. ‘You have failed me miserably, General. I will not tolerate failure. You can’t even win a skirmish with a woman in command of our enemy. She appears to be a far better tactician than either you or Colonel Walz. I find I’m surrounded by incompetence, by idiots! In the days of the great Nazi regime under Adolph Hitler, both of you would be shot for failing our cause. Hitler would not have tolerated this!’
“‘I understand, General Field Marshal. I simply did the best I could, devising the best plan feasible to destroy an army that will not come out in the open to fight. The woman stays hidden, leaving us with no choice but to ferret her out of her jungle hiding places. I could think of no other way without cover from our airships. We had to go in after her, to halt her march on Pretoria.’
“Bruno’s jaw clamped. ‘Instead, you lead our men and matérial to total destruction!’
“‘I cannot deny it. I have served you and the New World Order as faithfully as I knew how. Until we were confronted by this elusive woman and her battalion, I enjoyed a great many successes in the name of our cause. But Malone does not fight with military strategy. It is as if she always does the thing we expect least from a well-trained army. I can offer you no other explanation.’
“‘What the hell will stop her from marching all the way to Pretoria, General?’
“For the first time, Conreid smiled, albeit weakly. ‘If she gets this far, she will be forced to come out in the open, even if she does make it across northern Botswana. She must then face the Kalahari Desert in the south. Her tanks will break down in the sand. We can direct air strikes on her until she has been wiped out, down to the last man.’
“‘But what if she suddenly turns east into Zimbawe, following the rivers the way she has in the past?’
“‘She and General Raines and his other battalions will still have to cross the Transvaal. When they do, we will blow them off the face of the earth. There will be no places to hide from our bombers and rockets, and our antiaircraft gunners will knock their Apaches from the skies.’
“Bruno wondered, tapping a finger on his desk. What was happening now was all too much like events that had happened before in Europe many years ago. The weakling United Nations Secretary General, Moon, had branded him a neo-Nazi fanatic and a major threat to world stability. Bruno had raised a massive army to realize his dream of reviving the Third Reich in the post-apocalyptic world. He had formed an elite Minority Eradication Force in Switzerland, and had had almost 250,000 veteran troops to prepare for war against Ben Raines and other SUSA armies. After several months of bloody fighting, Bruno had called for a meeting in Geneva. There, he had made his racial position clear—the lands he controlled would be his empire forever, and he vowed to fight to the death to defend it, an Empire where he would allow no Jews or blacks or any other minorities. By then, his army had risen to almost three million men. And it was in Geneva where Bruno had related that his scientists were developing a serum that caused infertility, which he planned to introduce to the drinking water supply in Africa and Asia, to thin the world’s minority populations.
“When the talks grew ugly, Bruno’s men staged an attack and captured President Blanton, but with a motive, to fake his rescue and win global sympathy. Ben Raines exposed his plan before he could put it into action. Since, he and Raines had become sworn enemies.
“Bruno had given Raines an ultimatum: Be out of Europe in twenty-four hours, or all-out war would commence. Bruno had no choice but to back up his threat and attack when Raines ignored the ultimatum. Bruno’s empire, called the New Federation, all but collapsed. He was driven back across Germany, with high casualties, heading for Russia. But Raines cut him off and Bruno was forced to stage his own suicide, leaving his second in command, General Henrich, to show Raines a body said to be that of Bruno Bottger. While this delaying tactic was going on, Bruno took a hundred thousand of his men and escaped to Africa, to start over. All this because of Ben Raines—being forced to quietly rebuild a powerful army, equipped with the best weaponry on earth while in hiding in Pretoria, biding his time until he was ready.
“And now, Raines was coming after him again. And again, it seemed nothing could stop him.
“Bruno spoke to Conreid. ‘Tell Colonel Walz I want a meeting t
onight. Inform General Ligon. Perhaps now it is time to put our germ and chemical weapons to better use from the air. We will see if General Raines and his battalions are fully prepared for a new type of war.’
“Conreid seemed relieved. ‘I will summon Walz and Ligon. I agree. The time has come to put everything to the ultimate test. We cannot withstand any more huge casualties or our weapons stock will be seriously depleted. We have superiority in the air, or so we believe. Let’s test the Rebels in the skies.’
“Bruno pored over his maps, then studied recon reports, as few as they were, even though they were probably grossly inaccurate. He had given up letting others plan what his New World Order armies would do, deciding he could devise his own defense and counterattacks.
“Rudolf Hessner looked on from a chair across the desk, as did Colonel Walz, General Ligon, and General Conreid, who had arrived only moments ago for the meeting.
“‘They’ll come from three directions,’ Bruno said, talking to himself as much as the others. ‘One fork will come from the west, across the southern tip of Nambia, either along the Atlantic coast or across Great Namaland.’ He pointed a finger to a spot on the map.
“Colonel Walz nodded. ‘We can see them coming from the air. Namaland is fairly open. Not many places to hide tanks or APCs and our radar will pick up their aircraft. We can set up antiaircraft batteries west of Johannesburg. We’ll put them in deep bunkers so they can’t be taken out by smaller rockets.”
“‘Good,’ Bruno said, moving his finger to the Republic of Botswana. ‘I know Ben Raines . . . the way his mind works. He’ll send a force of some kind across the Kalahari, probably with strong air support, fighters and helicopter gun-ships. Here is where we’ll meet him head-on in the skies, with tank battalions to back us up.’
“‘A very good idea,’ General Conreid said. ‘We can put a few antiaircraft cannons in fortified sand pits near Serpwe, where there is enough rock to protect them. Sending tanks out into the Kalahari will be something he won’t expect; however, our Minsks can do well in sand or snow.’
“Bruno looked at Colonel Walz. ‘Can we give this area enough air support, Colonel?’
“‘Of course, General Field Marshal.’
“Now Bruno turned to General Ligon. ‘The Kalahari would be a good place to drop nerve-gas bombs. We know they are impervious to our anthrax agents. Mustard gas, and tear gas, will force them into protective gear, which will slow them down significantly in the desert heat.’
“‘I agree,’ Ligon said. ‘Our inventory contains well over five hundred mustard gas canisters, and over twice that many of the tear-gas bombs. If we drop the right number of both on the forces coming across the Kalahari, they will suffer immeasurably in the desert heat.’
“‘I want the bastards to suffer,’ Bruno hissed, returning to his map. ‘Now all we have to do is prepare our defenses and plan for attack in Zimbawe.’
“‘Napalm,’ Colonel Walz suggested.
“‘Yes, I like the idea of using napalm there,’ Conreid agreed quickly.
“‘It will set the jungle ablaze,’ General Ligon agreed. ‘If we score direct hits they will be cooked alive, and then we can go in and mop up with tanks and infantrymen.’
“Bruno looked up. ‘Make these preparations, gentlemen. And be sure of one thing. If any of you fails to carry out his assignment, I will personally see to your execution.’
“‘Do not worry,’ General Ligon said as he got up from the table. ‘Our chemical weapons will not fail if they are delivered properly.’
“Colonel Walz nodded when he stood up. ‘Rest assured they will be delivered correctly by my aircraft, General Field Marshal Bottger. I will not fail you.’
“General Conreid got up last. ‘I will redeem myself for what happened in Angola. This, I promise you.’
“‘Then get started,’ Bruno said evenly, looking around the group with hooded eyes. ‘This will be the final defeat of all Rebel forces.’
“‘We intend to make certain of it,’ Walz said, turning on his heel to be let out by Rudolf.
“One by one his officers filed out of the room, leaving Bruno alone with myself and Rudolf. Rudolf came over to the table with a question on his face.
“‘Keep a close eye on General Conreid,’ Bruno said, keeping his voice low.
“‘Do you suspect him of treason?’ the muscular Rudolf asked, frowning.
“‘Perhaps. Perhaps he is only a clever fool. I may have been blind to his shortcomings. Report his every movement to me, and if he makes a mistake in these preparations, or if he talks to anyone who may be suspicious, I want to be informed.’
“Rudolf smiled, a chilly smile. ‘Then, if you wish, I will kill him for you and make him suffer a terrible death.’
“Bruno shook his head. ‘If he is a traitor, or even merely a fool who has led our soldiers to their deaths, that is exactly what I have in mind for him.”
Perro Loco gave the American a steady gaze. “So tell me what happened?”
“General Raines was ready for us. He destroyed Bottger’s armies. As I told you before, I was lucky to get out of Africa alive. He anticipated our every move, almost as if he knew what we were going to do before we did.”
Loco walked back to the window. “We will show him a very different kind of war. Contact President Osterman. If we form an alliance we will have him trapped on two sides, from the north and the south. Just make sure your President understands I will be in charge of all military actions in Mexico. I will brook no interference from her in my plans.”
When Ortiz had the connection made, he nodded and Mendoza took the microphone. “This is Arnoldo Mendoza. Let me talk to President Osterman. I have news from Perro Loco.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Claire Osterman gathered her inner circle of advisers around her following her talk with Arnoldo Mendoza and Perro Loco.
She sipped from a cup of herbal tea, trying to stay on her new health regime since Herb Knoff and even the usually imperturbable Harlan Millard had shown uncommon pleasure in her new body.
As usual, Harlan was being a worrywart. “I just don’t know if we can trust this Perro Loco guy,” he said, his forehead wrinkled in frown lines. “After all, what do we know about him?”
General Bradley Stevens, Jr., cleared his throat impatiently. “Goddamn, Harlan!” he said in his hoarse drill sergeant’s voice. “What the hell do we need to know about the son of a bitch other than the fact he says he’s got fifty thousand troops massed at Mexico’s southern border an’ he’s willin’ to attack in the next few days?”
Claire cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Herb Knoff for his input.
He shrugged, phlegmatic as usual when discussing matters of military strategy. He only became really interested if it seemed he might get the chance to do someone bodily harm personally, or when he was in bed with the now shapely and more youthful-looking Claire.
“I agree with the general,” he said, stifling a yawn. “It seems pretty obvious he’s planning on attacking Mexico with or without us, so we really have very little to lose by promising him we’ll try to keep Ben Raines and the SUSA busy on this end—which we plan to do anyway.” He looked around the room. “I can’t see any downside to this arrangement.”
Claire nodded. “Nor can I. If the dumb Mexican is stupid enough to believe everything I tell him, he deserves to be disappointed when we shitcan his ass.”
“Actually, Claire, I believe he’s a Nicaraguan, not a Mexican,” Harlan said, causing everyone in the room to laugh.
Harlan looked flustered. “But, Claire, we don’t even know if he’s gonna be able to take command of the Nicaraguan Army like he says he can.”
“I don’t give a shit if he’s from outer space, or if he will be able to take over the army down there. But as long as he can cause enough trouble down south to get Mexico or Nicaragua to ask Raines for help, that’ll give Raines that many less troops to send against us once I take over as President of the USA.”
He
rb Knoff cocked his head to the side and looked at Stevens. “Speaking of which, how’re we doing in that regard, Brad?”
General Stevens pulled a cigar as thick as a sausage out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “‘Bout as good as we can expect, given the short amount of time we’ve had an’ the limited number of personnel available to us. We’ve managed to hook up with most of the ex-Blackshirt regiments, an’ a lot of the FPPS boys are on our side too. In the last two days we’ve managed to sabotage two airfields and put one entire base out of action by contaminatin’ the water supply with . . . um, fecal material.”
“Fecal material?” Harlan asked. “You mean . . .”
Stevens laughed. “You got it, Harlan, shit. The whole damn base is fightin’ over the latrines ’cause of the dysentery they got from it.”
“Any word on our assassination team?” Claire asked Herb.
He shook his head. “Nope, and I’m afraid that’s bad news. If they’d been successful, we’d’ve heard from them by now. I think we have to consider that particular mission a failure.”
Claire shrugged. “It was a long shot anyway, but at least the bastards’ll lose some sleep now that they know I’m damned serious about getting my old job back.”
Stevens pursed his lips around the cigar butt. “You know, we might give it another try, if you don’t mind possibly losing a helicopter or two in the attempt.”
“What do you mean, Brad?” Claire asked, leaning her elbows on her desk as she glared at him.
“One of those airfields I mentioned happens to have a couple of Blackhawk choppers on it. We might wanta send ’em down to Indianapolis and fire a couple of missiles at Warner and General Winter. If we hit ’em, good enough, an’ if we don’t, hell, it don’t never hurt to fire a couple a shots over the enemy’s head just to keep ’em too busy duckin’ to fire back at you.”
Tyranny in the Ashes Page 19
