“Jesus, we’re back where we started!”
“That’s about right, boss. Except for here in the SUSA and the area under the control of Simon Border. It’s a total breakdown everywhere else.”
“In the rubble of New York City?”
“Thousands of people are living there. The Scouts can’t get on the island to really check it out. We don’t know how the hell the people there are living.”
Ben sighed. “They’re not living. They’re existing. How about Night People?”
Beth hesitated. “Well . . . intel thinks there has been a heavy resurgence of those creepie bastards and bitches.”
“Damn! You have any more cheery news?”
She laughed. “That’s it. For now.”
Ben thanked her and leaned back, putting his boots up on the battered old dining table he was using for a desk. Nearly everything the Rebels had accomplished over the long and bloody years had been either destroyed or damaged. In essence, they were almost right back where they had started.
“So we start all over,” Ben muttered. “Why the hell not? We’ve done it before.”
TWELVE
Ben and his people waited until Ike and a couple of other battalions had cleaned out their sectors in the SUSA and then pulled them over to his TO. Ike brought Buddy and his 8 Batt and Dan and his 3 Batt.
“I’ve got some things to say to this Issac Africa,” Ben told his people. “But I wanted you batt coms here when I did.” He looked at Corrie. “OK, Corrie. Let’s get the man on the horn.”
“General Raines,” the voice sprang from the speaker. “Issac Africa here. I hope you’re not planning on doing anything foolish, like attacking me.”
Ben was silent for a few heartbeats, then said, “No, Issac. I have no plans at this time to attack you.” Ben’s son, Buddy, arched an eyebrow at that statement. “I’m going to leave you alone and let all the hate you have destroy you. That is, if all those black and white and brown and tan guerrilla groups you have all around you don’t do it first.”
“They won’t,” Issac came right back. “I took this land just like you and your Rebels seized all of the territory you now claim, General.”
“You’re about half right, Issac. We took the land. But we didn’t drive out or kill all the blacks as you did the whites. Many of them stayed to work right alongside us. But you and your followers are all alone, Issac. All you have is each other and your unreasonable hatred for anyone not of your color. The SUSA is not going to trade with you, Issac. And I won’t give you a shipping route to any port we control. Neither will Simon Border. So that means anything you grow or manufacture, you either eat and use or it rots and rusts. You might try some northeastern ports, but they’re not going to be open for some years in the future. No, Issac, you won’t last. But I’m not going to waste my time and put my people at risk fighting you. Not unless you make some hostile move against us. I don’t believe I have anything else I care to discuss with you, Issac.”
Issac was cursing as Ben handed the mic to Corrie and she switched the frequency, stilling the wild profanity.
“He might last several years, Ben,” Ike cautioned.
“He might. But I suspect not. Intel reports dozens of small guerrilla bands nipping and biting at his people from all sides.” Ben smiled. “Many of those guerrilla bands supported and equipped by us, of course.”
Buddy smiled at his father’s words and cut his eyes to Ike. Ike sighed and handed Buddy a silver dollar. Ben watched the exchange and said, “One of these days, Ike, you’re going to learn not to gamble with my son.”
“I believe that time has come, Ben. I’m a slow learner. So what’s next for us?”
Ben walked over to a window—minus the glass and boarded up—and stared out through the cracks for a moment. When he turned to face the group, his expression was serious. “It’s become obvious to me, and I suspect to all of you, that the SUSA cannot continue as a separate nation within a nation. Isolationism just won’t work. Oh, it was a grand plan and it worked for a time. However, too many forces and factions are against us for us to stand entirely alone. Somehow, someway, we’ve got to attempt to heal the entire nation . . .”
Ben watched as the expression on Ike’s face changed to one of disgust and he dug in his BDU pocket and handed Buddy another silver dollar.
“. . . if we don’t do that, we’re going to be fighting at our borders forever.”
“Shit!” Ike said.
“You have a better plan, Ike?” Ben asked.
Ike shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. But Ben, my God, what a massive undertaking.”
“I know, Ike, I know. And we’re going to have probably as many failures as we do successes. But if we don’t try, we’re going to be in combat for the rest of our lives and the SUSA will fall from neglect . . . among other reasons. Our kids and their kids and their kids will know nothing but war. I just don’t see any other route to take.”
“Father,” Buddy said. “We can’t help people who won’t help themselves. You know that.”
“But we have to try, boy. For one thing, I don’t want history recording us as making no effort toward restoring North America in its entirety. I personally don’t think we’ll be able to do it. But when we lay down for the last time, we can go out knowing that we tried.”
Dan said, “So the plan is to take the country—that portion not controlled by Simon Border—and do it village by village, county by county, and start re-education programs for the masses?”
“That’s about it, Dan. We go in and prop up the people. And if they fall after we do that . . .” Ben shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what we’ll do.”
“Oh, many of them will fall,” Buddy said matter-of-factly. “After we take them by their little hands and show them what to do and give them the materials and some help, and then pull out, probably about half of them will fall right on their faces. Because the government won’t be there to pick them up and dust them off and prop them up again. Father, you know damn well—we’ve proven it—that only about a quarter of the population of North America can live under a common-sense form of government. The rest either can’t or won’t. I want to go on record as saying this is going to be a colossal waste of time and effort.”
Ben’s face hardened. “Well then, boy, I’ll ask you the same question I asked Ike: Do you have a better plan?”
“No,” the young man replied. “I do not.” He held up a hand, silencing Ben before he could speak. “I understand why you’re doing this, Father. Noble thoughts not withstanding. You’ve had our medical people working around the clock producing vaccines. We’re going to inoculate the masses to keep epidemics from occurring . . .”
“Why not just inoculate the Rebels and our supporters, and allow the epidemics to take out those worthless people?” Anna suggested.
“I agree with Anna,” Buddy said quickly.
“Jesus Christ!” Ben flared. “And people call me cold and unfeeling.”
Dan and Ike exchanged glances and faded back, silently leaving the house, as did Ben’s team, letting father and son and adopted daughter verbally have at each other. The only team member who stayed in the room was Jersey. The devil couldn’t have moved her from Ben’s side.
“Doctor Chase is on the way in,” Corrie told the group. “He’s bringing in our share of the vaccines. Buddy and Anna will not change the boss’s mind.”
“You can bet on that,” Beth said.
“And your opinion of the plan, Beth?” Ike asked.
“It’s a practical plan, General,” Beth replied. “One we’ve tried before in a limited way. We failed then and will probably fail now. But we will get to a certain percentage of the population. And a certain percentage will, once propped up, stand on their own two feet and succeed.”
“I know you have the stats all worked out, Beth,” Dan said. “So what are they?”
“About thirty percent, maybe as high as thirty-five percent, of the population—that we get to, tha
t is—will stand with us and work to restore the nation. The rest will whine and bitch and piss and complain about everything. They’ll moan about civil rights and constitutional rights and gun control and this, that, and the other thing, and about how they’re not appreciated and eventually they’ll drop out and wander off. But nothing they do, or fail to do, will ever be their fault. It will always be the fault of someone or something else—usually society. But in the main I agree with the boss. We’ve got to try.”
Anna came out of the house and up to the group. “General Ben has a temper, doesn’t he?” she asked.
Ike chuckled at the expression on Anna’s face. “Is Buddy still alive?”
“Buddy decided to go along with the plan,” the teenager said, “but I still think it’s stupid.” She looked up at the sounds of planes as they began their airport approach. “Who is that?”
“Doctor Lamar Chase,” Ike said. “Now the fun begins.”
Lamar took a sip of his whiskey and smiled. “Ben Raines, the great humanitarian. Quite a difference from the fire-breathing dragon I recall from years back. Kill ’em all except six, and save them for pallbearers.”
“You disagree with what I propose, Lamar?”
The men were alone in the den of the house.
“Oh, no, Ben. Not at all. I think it’s a grand plan. If you can pull it off, it’ll be the happening of the new millennium. How about Issac Africa and his people? Do they get inoculated, too?”
“If they want it. But they won’t. Issac will convince the majority of his followers that it’s some sort of trick. Issac was one of those who preached that the CIA deliberately started AIDS to wipe out the black people in Africa.”
“Are you putting me on?”
“No.”
Chase shook his head in disgust.
“Did you bring everything we need, Lamar?”
“Oh, yes. And I can be resupplied with no problem, by air drop if necessary. Our people down south have been working around the clock cranking out vaccines. How about this Jethro Musseldine and his people?”
“I’ve sent medics over there with vaccines. They’ll rejoin us after we’ve taken, or retaken, I should say, the airport in Memphis. What will this be, the third goddamn time? I’m getting where I know that airport better than my own house.”
Chase lifted his glass. “To success.”
“I’ll sure drink to that.”
Three full battalions of Rebels on the move was a sight to behold. Dozens of tanks and both towed and self-propelled artillery. Several hundred deuce-and-a-halves, HumVees, Jeeps, APCs and Bradley Fighting Vehicles, and huge tanker trucks. The column stretched out for miles.
The long column headed northeast, toward the ruins of Memphis. They crossed the river and to a person were shocked at what they found.
“There must five or six thousand people living in the rubble,” Scouts reported back. “Probably more than that. What in the hell is the matter with these people?”
“As if we didn’t know,” Ben muttered. “Let’s go check it out, Coop.”
“It’s God’s will,” one man dressed in nothing more than rags said to Ben on the outskirts of the city. “All is lost. The mighty have fallen. We are doomed to wander forever like the lost children until the end comes.”
“You’re a blathering idiot,” Ben told him. “Drive on, Cooper.”
“Help us!” a man cried out as the big wagon drove slowly past him, standing with a group of men and women and kids. “We’re starving.”
“Stop,” Ben said. He got out, his team with him, and walked over to the man. “Did you say you were starving?”
“Yes, sir. Please give us food.”
Ben was speechless; it was one of the few times in his life he was struck dumb for a moment. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He pointed to a vacant lot about a hundred feet away. “You see those feathered fowl pecking at the ground over there?”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“Those are chickens, you nitwit. Of the male and female variety. There are eggs over there in nests. Chickens are also very good to eat. Go gather the eggs and kill and cook the chickens. But not all of them. Keep some alive to produce more eggs and allow some of the eggs to hatch. Little chickies pop out of the shells. Little chickies grow up to be big chickies. Do I have to write it all down for you?”
“You’re a very insulting man,” a woman mouthed off, walking up to the team. “Who are you, anyway?”
“They must have just come in from the dark side of the moon,” Jersey muttered.
“Ben Raines.”
Those two words stilled the group for a moment. They stood and stared at him.
Finally the woman said, “If that is true, then you have an obligation to help us.”
Ben blinked a couple of times. “I do?”
“Of course. You have plenty, we have nothing. You must share.”
Ben stared at the woman. Took off his beret.
Scratched his head a couple of times. He began walking around in small circles, muttering some highly profane words. He stopped with his back to his team and said, “Somebody better handle this, for I am rapidly losing grip on what little temper I have left.”
Jersey stepped up to the woman, all five feet of her, the butt of her GAR resting on one hip, and said, “What the hell’s the matter with you, lady? Are you some kind of fuckin’ fruitcake?”
The older and taller woman stared down at the diminutive Rebel. “I am a professor of philosophy, young lady. And I am not accustomed to being spoken to in such a manner.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jersey got all up in the woman’s face, standing on her tippy-toes to do so. “Well, philosophize this, Miss Hoity-Toity—we are not obligated to do a damn thing to help you. Why don’t you try living dangerously for a change and help yourselves?”
“I should slap your face!”
Jersey smiled. Sort of. “When you try that, lady, you best make sure your heart belongs to God. ’Cause your gimlet ass is damn sure gonna belong to me!”
Ben turned to see the older woman’s reaction to that. When the words came, they came as no surprise to him.
The stringy-haired, grimy-faced woman drew herself up, her eyes flashing. “You damn right-wing, war-loving, gun nuts are to blame for all that’s happened to the good decent people of America,” she hissed. The words sprang past her lips like venom from a spitting cobra. She turned to glare at Ben. “If you hadn’t insisted on your barbaric nation none of this would be happening. We were on our way back to a full democracy, but you had to break away.”
Ben had his temper under control by now and he walked over to the woman. “A full democracy, lady? No. I don’t know what it was you had, but it sure as hell was not a democracy. Even Homer Blanton—who is now the SUSA’s secretary of state—admitted that it wasn’t working. And as far as you being hungry, lady . . . don’t talk to me about hunger when this country is overrun with chickens and cattle and sheep and hogs.”
“I am a vegetarian, General,” she announced primly. “I do not eat the flesh of living creatures.”
Ben leaned down, put his nose about an inch from hers (which was running, he observed) and roared, “Then eat weeds, goddamnit!”
Ben raised no objections when Lamar began setting up his MASH tents and lining the people up for shots and physicals. “Just don’t give that damn philosophy professor any shots that were developed from eggs or sheep shit or calf brains, Lamar,” he said sourly. “She’d rather infect an entire nation.”
Doing his best to keep from laughing in Ben’s face, Lamar turned his back on Ben and busied himself with paperwork.
“How’d that goddamned woman ever get down here from Vassar or Harvard or Princeton, or wherever the hell it was she spewed her nonsense?” Ben asked.
His entire team burst out laughing at him. Lamar could no longer contain his own high humor and he started cackling and howling.
Ben endured the laughter stoically. When it had died away, he asked, “
What is that woman’s name? Did anybody find out?”
“Janet House-Lewiston,” Beth said, wiping her eyes. “With a hyphen.”
“One of those types,” Ben muttered. “Where’s her husband?”
“She doesn’t have one,” Corrie said.
Ben looked at her. “Now I am confused. I’m not at all surprised to learn she doesn’t have a husband, just confused. If she’s not married, what is the hyphen for?”
“House was her father’s name,” Jersey said. “Lewiston was her mother’s name.”
Ben sighed. Rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “Where is that woman now?”
“She’s helping over at one of our inoculation tents,” Lamar told him, pointing. “Over there. She was a nurse for a few years before she got her PhD. and turned toward an academic life.”
Ben muttered something under his breath and glowered darkly in the direction Lamar had pointed.
Suddenly, from that direction, shouts and laughter rang out.
“I’m sure that’s her causing all that commotion,” Ben said. “She probably found a cockroach and wants to make a pet out of it.”
His team grinned but said nothing. They all knew that Ben was very ecology-minded and tender-hearted toward animals; but there was a limit to everything, especially when one professed to be starving.
Ben watched as a woman left the MASH tent where the shouting and laughter had originated and began walking toward the tents where Doctor Chase and Ben were headquartered. Ben did not recognize the woman. But as she drew closer, he could see that she was a very attractive lady. Closer still, he could see that she was about forty, with light brown hair, cut short, and possessing a very shapely figure. There had been a time when Ben knew every member of the Rebels by their first name. But no more; those days were long past. Now there were thousands of Rebels.
The woman walked up to where Ben was sitting in a canvas camp chair. He looked at her. Her face was familiar, but he could not dredge up a name. Green eyes, very pretty in a mature way, filled out her BDUs nicely.
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