Terror in the Ashes

by William W. Johnstone

“Yeah,” Ben returned the grin. “Sort of let them know we’re here.”

  “Right, sir.”

  Two main battle tanks lumbered up, swiveled around on the roadbed, and lowered the muzzles of their main guns while the enemy machine guns rattled, the slugs bouncing off the heavy armor-plate. A booming heartbeat later, there was nothing left of the stone hut.

  “Check it out,” Ben ordered.

  Scouts raced across the meadow. Moments later, Corrie’s radio crackled. “Scouts report all enemy dead, sir. Do we bury them?”

  “No,” Ben replied. “The people living around here will take care of that. Move out.”

  Back on the road, moving slowly due to the badly deteriorated highway, Ben again picked up a map. “The town Athenry is supposed to be deserted. But I have my doubts about that. I suspect Jack has moved in troops over the past couple of weeks. I’ve told the Free Irish that we wouldn’t destroy on a wholesale basis; but I also told them that I wouldn’t give up a Rebel life to save a building. They understand that.”

  “It’s so green and lovely,” Jersey said, looking out the side window. “And so peaceful-appearing.”

  “Scouts report the crossroads up ahead is clear, General,” “ Corrie said.

  “Stay on the road to Athenry, Coop,” Ben said. “Corrie, have Scouts check out the southern route down to Loughrea. Advise them not to get themselves in a bind. We’ve got plenty of time and equipment to do this right.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have the Scouts check it out and if they hit trouble, back off immediately and call in. Make that a direct order.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ben had vowed that this operation was to be done slowly and cautiously, keeping loss of Rebel life to a minimum. Dr. Chase, the Chief of Medicine, had hit the ceiling when he’d learned the Rebels would be fighting on so many fronts. But Ben was used to Chase’s bitching and yelling.

  “How in the goddamn hell do you expect me to provide quality medicine on six or seven fronts, Raines?” he had roared.

  “I have complete faith in your ability to do the impossible, Lamar.”

  “Raines,” Lamar said, in slightly less than a roar, “this country is approximately the size of Maine, for Christ’s sake. The roads are in horrible shape, it’s going to be a very slow campaign, the people are malnourished, we have our hands full just trying to keep these poor children alive, there are creepies all over the damn place, it rains all the time ...”

  “It does not rain all the time, Lamar. Just ... more often than we are accustomed to, that’s all.”

  “Don’t interrupt me. And I want you to finally realize, get it through that thick, hard head of yours, that your place is in the rear, directing operations from behind a desk, you overage Huckleberry Finn.”

  “Go suck an egg, Lamar.”

  “Damn it, Ben ...”

  “I lead troops into battle, Lamar. The Rebels expect that of me. Now is there anything else you want?”

  “About a hundred more doctors would be delightful, Raines. And nurses, too.”

  “Canvass the people, Lamar. I’m sure Ireland had plenty of very fine doctors and nurses before the Great War.”

  “Oh, thank you so much, great and noble leader. Goddamn, Raines, I’ve already done that in this area. I can’t very well go wandering out into the fine green hills of Ireland looking for more until you start clearing zones. Right?”

  Ben grinned and pinched Lamar on the chin. “You’re so cute when you get angry – you know that?”

  The Rebel encampment was startled to see the chief of medicine, with a very large surgical knife in his hand, chasing the commanding general through the tents and vehicles. Lamar was cursing and shouting out exactly what parts of the general’s anatomy he planned to cut off.

  Luckily, Ben was younger and had longer legs.

  Ben halted his battalion just outside of the town of Athenry and got out to study the village with his binoculars.

  His son, Buddy, and part of his Rat Pack had joined him on this run ... at Colonel Dan Gray’s insistence. “The name means ‘Town of the King’s Ford,’ ” Buddy told his father.

  Ben looked at his ruggedly handsome son, heavily muscled, with a mop of dark hair, always with a bandana tied around his forehead. “I didn’t know you were a student of Ireland.”

  Buddy grinned and held up an old tourist brochure he’d found back in Galway. “It was founded in the thirteenth century and much of the medieval town wall and keep of the castle still survives. Population of about fourteen hundred before the Great War. What is a keep, Father?”

  “The strongest or innermost part or a central tower of a castle.” Ben returned to his inspection of the supposedly deserted town.

  “Thank you, Father,” Buddy said with a mischievous grin on his lips. “You are a veritable well of information. Of course, when I reach your advanced age, I plan on being just as intelligent. However, that’s well in the future.”

  Ben groaned and shook his head.

  Jersey said, “You may outrank me, Buddy-boy, but watch your smart mouth around the general.”

  Ben grinned at the expression on his son’s face. Buddy could have jerked Jersey up and broken her in two without much effort. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  Ben chuckled. “You have anything else to add, boy?”

  “No, sir.” He looked at the diminutive and dark-eyed Jersey, staring smack at him without one ounce of backup in her. “At least, not with her around.”

  “Fine. Never bad-mouth the general when the general’s bodyguard is around.”

  “She’s always around!”

  “That’s right,” Ben said cheerfully and handed the field glasses to his son. “Take a look at that village and tell me your first gut hunch.”

  “I was only kidding, Jersey.”

  “The town, boy. The town!”

  Ben looked at Jersey and she winked at him. Jersey’s jokes could sometimes be a little grim. But most soldier humor is.

  Buddy studied the town for a moment, then slowly lowered the glasses. “It’s a trap.”

  “Why?” his father pressed.

  Buddy pointed to some tiny birds that were flitting along a row of wild roses. The birds paid them no attention. “Wild roses down there, Father. But no birds.”

  “Maybe they got tired of those roses,” Ben said with a smile.

  “And just maybe some of General Jack Hunt’s people got careless and drove right through a mud puddle this morning,” his son said, returning the smile and pointed to the town. “Leaving vehicle tracks that lead right up to that closed garage door down there in the village.”

  Ben nodded his head. “You’re good, boy. You’re in command. Take the town.”

  Buddy’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “You heard me!” Ben said sharply. “I said you’re in command. Take the damn town. You don’t expect me to live forever, do you? I could catch a bullet any moment. I could step on a mine. I’m a middle-aged man, son. Not some strutting rooster like you.” He turned to Corrie. “Advise the battalion that Buddy is in command for this operation.” He looked back at his son. “It’s your show, boy. Do it.”

  Buddy gathered the CCs and PLs around him, while Ben leaned up against a fender and rolled a cigarette. Dr. Chase, whose MASH unit was attached to Ben’s command, walked up and gave the cigarette a disgusted look. “Damn things are going to kill you, Raines. What’s this about Buddy taking command?”

  “Time he stopped running around like a wild heathen and began taking some responsibility.” Ben lit up and inhaled.

  Chase peered suspiciously at him. “Are you sick, Raines? Have you been smoking funny cigarettes? You are actually giving up command?”

  “For an hour or two or three. He’s got to learn how it feels to make mistakes. He’s got to learn how it tears a man up inside when men and women die on his orders. I can’t teach those sensations, Lamar. He’s got to experience them on his own.”

  “There’s more t
o this than you just told me.”

  “Yes. Lamar, should something happen to me, Buddy would have to take command. Now Ike or West or Georgi could stand behind him and keep him propped up, but a Raines has to lead. You know that as well as me.”

  “I.” »

  “What?”

  “Not me. I.”

  “Lamar ...”

  “Oh, forget it. He’s just a boy, Ben.”

  “Damned if that’s so. He’s twenty-five years old, give or take a year or two.”

  Buddy walked up. “I’m taking one company in and some armor, Father.”

  Ben shrugged. “Don’t tell me. Just do it.”

  Buddy hesitated for a second. Sighed. “And what if I’m wrong, Father?”

  “Then you get people killed and possibly yourself along with them. The day isn’t getting any younger, boy, and the road is long. Take the town.”

  Buddy wheeled about and walked off.

  “You’re a hard man, Ben Raines,” Chase said.

  Ben smiled.

  “And don’t tell me it’s hard times! You say that and I’ll stick a stethoscope up your nose.”

  Ben looked at Sergeant Major Adamson, standing nearby, and jerked his head toward the town. The former French Foreign Legionnaire smiled and nodded. He walked toward the company Buddy was leading into the village and joined the group.

  “Buddy’s led troops before, Ben,” Linda said.

  “But not with me so directly looking down his throat. Oh, hell, people. He’ll be all right. Those Rebels won’t let him make a mistake.” I hope, Ben silently added.

  Two

  Ben sat drinking coffee and occasionally lifting binoculars to his eyes to watch as his son and a company of Rebels took the village of Athenry. He smiled as he watched his son take the small town using textbook tactics. It was slow but highly effective, and it reduced Rebel losses to a bare minimum.

  Buddy took it house by house, block by block, moving his people forward behind heavy armor, utilizing smoke and teargas to drive the enemy out of the buildings and destroy them in the streets.

  “Very good,” Ben said.

  “A real chip off the old block,” Chase said. “But that chip down there uses a lot more common sense than this old chip I’m sitting next to.”

  Ben sipped his coffee and said nothing in rebuttal. Ben’s team sat on the ground by the wagon and listened to the exchange. Dr. Lamar Chase and Ben Raines had been arguing almost since the moment they’d met, years back.

  “Buddy is offering them surrender terms, General,” Corrie called.

  “His option,” Ben said.

  The firing was much lighter now. The very faint smell of teargas wafted to the halted battalion.

  “It’s just about over down there,” Ben said. “Corrie, get me reports from the other battalions.”

  “The Free Irish are driving hard,” she reported in a few moments. “They’ve encountered little resistance so far but expect stiff resistance when they reach Clare and Shannon Airport.”

  “It’ll be filled with Creepies for sure,” Ben muttered.

  “General Ike reports no resistance of any kind, so far. West reports only light resistance. General Striganov says not a shot has been fired. No one is reporting any resistance, sir.”

  “That’s great,” Chase said.

  “It’s too easy,” Ben countered. “Jack Hunt may be a murderous outlaw, but he’s a fine military man. Give him his due for that. Corrie, order all units to halt forward progress and let’s have a skull session using SLURP.”

  “Right, sir. I’ll have communications set up the equipment.”

  SLURP is slang for a highly sophisticated method of communication using electronically coded burst transmissions. A three-minute conversation can be compressed into a four- or five-second burst, then decoded electronically on the receiving end.

  Buddy returned, bringing with him a dozen prisoners.

  “What do you intend to do with them?” Ben asked.

  “Turn them over to the civilian authorities for trial.”

  Ben shrugged. “Personally, I’d shoot them. But this was your show.”

  The prisoners were scared and their faces showed that fear as Ben walked up and down in front of them. “No officers among them, son?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  Ben smiled very faintly as he stopped in front of one man. “This one is.”

  Buddy was at his side instantly. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “Look at his collar, son. See the pinholes where the rank insignia was displayed? Take this one for interrogation.” He stared hard at the man. “It can be easy or hard, partner. It’s all up to you.”

  “My name is Bob Miller,” the mercenary said. “Captain, Jack Hunt’s Army of Liberation. I am required under terms of the Geneva Convention to give you no more than that.”

  The man actually backed up at Ben’s smile. A very thin sheen of sweat broke out on his face. “Get these other prisoners out of here, Buddy. Leave the captain.”

  With the others gone, Ben turned to Miller. “Have you ever been interrogated using chemicals, Captain?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I’m told it’s a very ... ah, trying experience. But the interrogation team is very good at what they do. They always succeed. Do you really want to undergo that treatment?”

  “Not really, General.”

  “Well, I’ll give you a few moments to think about it, Captain. You think hard on it. And enjoy your ruminations. Because if you experience those chemicals, you just might not be capable of ever doing any rational thinking again. And either way you choose to play it, easy or difficult, I’ll still know what it is you have in your head. Because you see, Captain, I am not a game player. We don’t play games during war. We just win. We always win.” He turned to a Rebel. “Get him out of here.”

  “General Raines?” Captain Miller said.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “What is it you want to know?”

  Ben smiled. “I knew you were a sensible fellow, Captain.” Ben pulled out a long-bladed knife. “Turn around.”

  With a puzzled look on his face, the captive slowly turned around, not knowing what to expect.

  Ben cut the ropes that lashed his wrists together. “Have you eaten today, Captain?”

  Miller faced the general. “No, sir.” He smiled. “At least, nothing to write home about.”

  “I do know that feeling. Where’s home?”

  “Originally, Kansas. Little town name of Arkansas City.”

  “I know where it is. It’s deserted now.”

  “Yes. I know. I had just gotten out of the Marine Corps when the Great War struck. Then the federal police came to relocate me and my parents. We told them we didn’t want to be relocated.” He sighed. “The feds shot my dad dead. Mother jumped at them and they killed her, too. I went crazy. Grabbed up a Mini-14 and just let it bang. Killed them all and went on the run. Hooked up with a bunch of military deserters and I’ve been running ever since.”

  “Let’s go get some coffee and food and we’ll talk.”

  Jersey watched Miller eat and said to Corrie, “He sure must be hungry. Anybody who’d eat two packets of that crap is either half-starved or crazy!”

  “It’s far better food than Jack provides,” Miller said, leaning back in the camp chair and accepting the makin’s from Ben. He rolled a cigarette and said, “Jack’s lettin’ you people come on without much resistance. To build up your confidence, you might say.”

  Miller accepted another cup of coffee from Corrie with thanks and said, “I’m not privy to his plans – Jack doesn’t say a whole lot until he’s sure a man is trustworthy – and I haven’t been with him long enough to gain inner circle status. I just took over this command after you creamed us at Galway.” He smiled with some satisfaction. “Jack was pissed about that. Really steamed.”

  “You act as though that pleases you.”

  “I don’t like Jack Hunt, General. But I
’m a soldier. That’s all I know how to do. I was a soldier down in Mexico, then in Central America, then in South America, for one two-bit dictator or another. Then I heard about Jack’s really professional army and came over on the first boat.” He shook his head. “Boy, did I get suckered in that time.”

  “Miller, have you ever raped anyone?”

  “No, sir. But I’ve been present when it was going on and didn’t stop it.”

  “If you had tried to intervene, what would have happened to you?”

  “They would have killed me.”

  “So you did the only sensible thing.”

  “The sensible thing would have been for me never to turn to mercenary work. But yes, you’re right.”

  “Ever killed anyone in cold blood?”

  “Yes, sir. But then, so have you. Probably many more times than I have.”

  Ben grunted. “I’m certain you’re right about that. Miller, you come across as a man with some education, some conscience, some moral value. Do you have any of those attributes?”

  “Oh, I think so, sir. I once beat the shit out of a man who was abusing a poor starving dog.”

  Ben threw back his head and roared his laughter. Miller looked at the man, wondering what in the hell was going on. Ben wiped his eyes and called for Jersey.

  “Right here, sir.”

  “Jersey, take Miller down to the medics for a physical. Then have him outfitted in proper Rebel dress and arm him. He just joined the Rebels.” He turned his gaze to a very startled Bob Miller. “You get that done, then come on back here. We’ll talk at length.”

  As Jersey was leading him away, Miller asked, “Does the general always make up his mind that fast?”

  “Sometimes. You must be an animal lover.”

  “Oh, I am. Always have been. I was a member of the Doris Day Animal League while I was in the Corps.”

  “I heard of her. Miller? Don’t ever try to fuck over the general.”

  “The man just gave me a second chance. I don’t have any intention of screwing it up. But what would you do if I did?”

  “Kill you stone dead as a hammer, Miller. Cold.”

  Miller smiled at the pretty little bodyguard with eyes that could become cold and unreadable in a heartbeat. “You really would, wouldn’t you?”