Alone in the Ashes (24 page)

Ben scrambled the upcoming transmissions and picked up the mike. “Eagle One to Base Camp. Eagle One to Base Camp.”

“This is Base,” the voice cracked. “We've been trying to reach you for days, General. Are you all right?”

Before Ben could reply, Ike's voice roared through the speaker. “Where in the goddamn hell have you been, Ben?”

“Under attack,” Ben radioed. “Rani and I fought the outlaws and won. Then Hartline and his people showed up. Caught us by surprise. I got lead in Hartline, but he got more in me. He took Rani. I'm hard hit, Ike, but I'm going to make it. It was touch-and-go there for awhile. Ike, I believe I can make it out of here, now. So I'm going to head for the old capital of Vista. You get the troops ready and—”

The set went dead, the ON light blinking off.

“Shit!” Ben said. Ben could make a bomb out of almost anything at hand; he could gather great armies together and command them to victory against overwhelming odds; he could take chaos and confusion and turn it into calmness and order.

But he didn't know a damn thing about radios.

He sat on the tailgate of the truck and cussed, turning the warm spring air blue.

 

 

“Goddamn it!” Ike roared, after doing everything except kicking the set at Base Camp.

“Calm down, Ike,” Cecil said. “Ben's all right.”

“I'm calm, I'm calm!” Ike yelled, scaring the young radio operator.
“You
calm down. I'm
calm!”
he roared.

“Yes,” Cecil said with a smile. “I can certainly see that.” He turned to the operator. “Get Dan Gray on the horn, please.”

Cecil brought the Englishman up to date on Ben's situation, concluding with, “Drop whatever you're doing and get out to Vista. Make certain everything there is secure. Check out the old airport. If it's suitable for prop landings, I'll airlift a battalion out with others to follow in trucks. Do that for me, will you, Dan?”

“Moving within the hour, General,” Dan radioed back.

“I'm leading the airborne troops,” Ike said. Cecil knew there would be no point in arguing with the man.

“All right, Ike. Of course. Get your people together and equipped. It will probably be several days before we get a report from Dan. Be ready to go.”

 

 

Ben did not return to the cabin. He had emergency supplies in the pickup and knew where more were buried. The pickup started at the first touch of the key and Ben pulled out, driving slowly, careful to avoid as many bumps as possible, not wanting to open his healing wounds.

He made it to the paved highway that first day. There, he made camp and rested. By afternoon of the second day, he was in the old Tri-States capital of Vista.

He did not look at the split-level home he and Salina and Tina and Jack had called home for many years. He deliberately kept his eyes from the home. Too many memories there. Too many.

It was in that front yard that Ben had killed his own brother in a gunfight, after his brother had joined a Nazi group and had tried to ambush Ben.

Too many memories.

The littered and ruined town just held too many memories for Ben.

He drove to the old airport.

There, Ben set up camp in a small building just off the strip. He rested, and began a walk-around of the strip. Surprisingly, it was in fairly good shape.

He had a strong hunch that Ike had called Colonel Gray after their own transmissions had abruptly ended. Dan would break all records getting here, Ben felt sure. And Cecil had probably ordered someone, Ike, he felt sure—he had probably insisted—to lead some sort of airborne assault. As soon as Dan and his people arrived, they would begin clearing the strip for the Rebels' old prop planes.

But for now, Ben could do nothing except wait.

 

 

“Are you certain General Raines is dead?” the Russian asked Hartline.

Sam Hartline was in the hospital, his side and chest bandaged. The operation had been long, with the buckshot from Ben's shotgun almost killing the man.

“I'm ninety-nine-percent certain,” the mercenary replied. “He was hit three times before the grenade was tossed into the cabin. The explosion wrecked the place. I just don't see how anybody could have lived through that.”

“Ben Raines is not just
anybody
,” General Striganov reminded his friend and associate. “Far from it.”

“Yeah, I know it. But he's dead, General. Or dying. Bet on it.”

“We are, my friend,” Striganov said. “We are both betting our lives.”

 

 

Dan Gray and his Scouts pulled in after a grueling two-and-a-half-day forced drive from east Texas, where they had been working with civilians, mapping out plans for the upcoming outpost systems.

“You boys look beat,” Ben told them. “Get some rest. There's nothing happening around here.”

The chief combat medic with Gray's Scouts inspected Ben's healing wounds and told Ben he had been very lucky.

“I know that, Sergeant,” Ben said.

Colonel Dan Gray was standing about, a frown of disapproval on his face. Ben cut him off before he could speak.

“I know what you're going to say, Dan. But I was just weary of being nursemaided, that's all.”

“General, you
are
the Rebels. You
are
the movement. You—”

Ben waved him silent. “That is what I am trying to overcome, Dan. That type of feeling. And you're wrong. We are
all
the Rebels. The movement cannot, must not, revolve around one man or one woman. I won't have that. I will
not
have that. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine. Then we won't speak of it again.”

“No, sir.”

 

 

Ike and his patched-up aircraft landed two days later. Ike had brought a battalion of Rebels with him, with another battalion coming in trucks, along with heavy artillery and light tanks. A third battalion would be held in reserve. They would arrive in the old Tri-States within the month.

Ben and Ike shook hands and embraced, Ike saying, “You lucked out again, old buddy.”

“Skill, Ike,” Ben kidded him. “Just plain ol' know-how.”

“Shhittt!”
Ike said. He sobered and said, “Tell me about Miss Jordan.”

“Hartline's got her, and I'm going to get her back. It's that simple.”

Ben brought the men and women of his Rebels up to date on General Striganov's experiments and Hartline's involvement with them.

There was silence after Ben finished speaking. Colonel Dan Gray broke the silence. “Our duty is very clear, General. We have to put the Russian out of business.”

“That is exactly what I intend to do, people,” Ben said.

General Striganov stepped out of his office and looked toward the east. He did not believe for one instant that Raines was dead. And the scouts he had sent out a week ago should be returning with the confirmation of that suspicion any hour.

The trail-worn Russian scouts of the IPF returned and gave their general the bad news.

“General Ben Raines is alive and doing quite well,” they told Striganov. “He is massing troops in the old Tri-States.”

Striganov did not have to have a picture drawn for him to know what that meant.

“How many troops?”

“At least two battalions. Some are airborne. We believe more men and machines are coming shortly.”

Striganov dismissed his people. He again looked toward the east.

“So, General Raines,” he muttered. “We shall once more clash. But this time there will be no gentleman's agreement about fairness and the code of honor among fighting men. So be it. One of us will know total victory this time. And one of us will know the taste of death.”

Ben had ordered two more battalions of Rebels to be readied and sent westward. He was planning to move against Hartline and the Russian on the sixth of June. Already he had sent teams of Scouts out to reconnoiter the Russian's position, and first reports indicated the Russian's position was a strong one.

Cecil was furious about being left behind, and Ben knew that someway, somehow, Cecil would figure out a way to get into the fight. Ben smiled. He didn't blame him. He would have done the same thing.

Ben had ordered his people out into the countryside, on the off chance that Striganov might launch a first strike and catch them all bunched up.

Ben turned cold eyes toward the west. He was not aware of it, but he was smiling that wolfs smile.

“This time, Hartline, I'm going to kill you. This time, General Striganov, I will wipe your lousy IPF from the face of the earth. And I will return Rani to me. You're too smart to have harmed her. I'm coming to get you, Rani.”

The sighing winds seemed to ask if that was a promise.

“That's a promise,” Ben said.

PINNACLE BOOKS are published by

 

 

Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022

 

 

Copyright © 1985 by William W Johnstone

 

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

 

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

 

 

Pinnacle and the P logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

 

 

ISBN: 978-0-7860-1961-8

Notes