“Big brave man,” the woman sneered at him, blood leaking from her mouth. “It’ll take me hours to die like this. Finish it, for the love of God, finish me. Stop the pain.”
An outlaw called Big Jess stepped out of the alley. “No, Bobby, you don’t do nothin’ of the kind. I want her to holler. This is the one that no matter how I beat her, she never would suck me off. So I want her to holler.”
Bobby looked at the outlaw, disgust in the gaze. He stepped over the woman. She grabbed at his jeans and he kicked her hand away.
Big Jess chuckled. “You a good boy, Bobby. Faithful to his woman, too,” he said to the gut-shot woman. “Yes, sir. He’s been with the same wahine for some years now.”
Bobby turned his back to the outlaw and walked to his motorcycle. Whole goddamn island was going crazy.
“Beg, you bitch!” Big Jess said.
“Go to hell!” the woman told him.
Bobby cranked his motorcycle and headed for his house, up in the hills around the city.
Not wanting to be left out of all the action, Ike was now in command of a reworked and refitted modern-day PT boat. Ben knew about it and kept silent. If Ike wanted to roar around the ocean looking for trouble, that was fine with Ben, just as long as the ex-Navy SEAL returned to the armada every now and then to check things out. Actually, Ben had been about to let Ike come ashore with his battalion when Ike decided to shift the armada around. But now that Ike was having so much fun roaring about the ocean in a seventy-foot rocket, Ben decided to leave him alone.
Ben walked to the wall map and checked out the new positions of the ships. When Ike was finished shifting vessels around, he would have effectively closed off all island travel for the outlaws and pirates. Any ship or boat found in the channels was subject to being blown out of the water. Several already had been and the pirates had gotten the message.
With a sigh, Ben returned to his desk and looked at the mounds of reports on it. With the addition of the four new battalions, the paperwork had drastically increased. Ben picked it all up and threw it on the floor, in piles. Hell with it.
Jersey watched him from the door. “You need some aides, General,” she told him. “You’re either gonna be out in the field, or tied to a desk. You’re gonna have to start delegating authority. Now, which one is it gonna be? ’Cause everybody is tired of hearing you bitch.”
Ben looked at her and started laughing. General of the Army he might be, but Jersey pulled no punches with him. She told it like she saw it.
“Enlarge my staff, is that it, Jersey?”
“Has to be, General. The army’s gettin’ too large for one man to do it all. When we had nine battalions, it was too much. Now it’s really gotten out of hand.”
Beth and Corrie and Cooper came in. Ben stared at them and they stared back. “Speak your minds,” he said.
“We been talkin’ to Doctor Chase,” Corrie said. “He’s worried about the work load on your shoulders. So are the rest of the batt comms. Tina and Jersey have been meeting with them from time to time. General, you’re a soldier’s soldier. You hate the office and love the field. You enjoy planning and tactics, but you’re happiest in the field. We now have more than twelve thousand people in infantry units alone. I don’t even know how many others are in armor and artillery and engineers and truck drivers and cooks and medics and all the other stuff.”
Ben smiled. “Tell you the truth, Coop . . . I don’t either. But I do have the figures around here someplace.”
“That’s the point, General,” Beth said. “You’ve talked for months about setting up a real Headquarters Company with a real XO to take all this crap off of you. Let’s do it and take some strain off of all of us.”
“Who do you have in mind?”
“Thermopolis.”
That startled Ben. But the more he thought about it, the more logical it became. Thermopolis was a detail man; he loved that kind of work. And while Thermopolis was a good battalion commander, he did not like the killing involved with being in the field and had often said so. Therm was a gentle man by nature, and so were the people who had come with him several years back.
“Therm might not go for it,” Ben said.
“Oh, I think he will,” Beth replied with a grin.
“Suckered again,” Ben grumbled, but with a smile.
FIVE
“Why in the hell is he waiting to strike?” Books bitched to the roomful of gang leaders. “He’s up to something.” He stood with his back to the men and women, staring out the window at the street below. The bodies of the slaves had been removed and burned and the scene looked almost tranquil.
“Do we have anybody left on the islands the Rebels control?” Vic Keeler asked.
“No. Well, if we do, they’re not sending out any radio signals. I just can’t understand why Raines is waiting so long to strike at the Believers on the big island. I don’t know what he’s planning and it’s frustrating.”
“I hope he waits ten years,” Polly Polyanna said. “I’m not that anxious to die.”
Susie Loo glanced at the gang leader. “I still say we got a chance to come out of this.”
“A damn slim one,” Polly muttered.
Bobby entered the room, carrying a dispatch from communications. “Books, the big ships laying offshore have shifted. They’ve come in closer and gone broadside toward us.”
“Now what the hell does that mean?” Slick Bowers asked.
He, along with the others, got their reply in the form of a dozen 155mm rounds impacting against buildings and earth. When Ben had learned of the wholesale killing of slaves, he had ordered the ships to commence their bombardment of the major cities on Oahu and Kauai.
“Son of a bitch!” Big Jess shouted, as a round came dangerously close to the building being used as Books’s command post.
“Grab anything of importance!” Books yelled over the din of incoming rounds. “Clear the city. Raines is going to bring it down.”
120mm mortars located on board ships joined the 155s and the 105s and began pounding at the city of Honolulu. The outlaws and assorted crud and crap went into a panic as willie-peter and HE rounds started dropping in full force, blowing away the tops of buildings and starting fires. Those caught in the streets were showered with bricks and other killing and maiming debris.
Freshly resupplied, the Rebels would keep up the bombardment until the cities were burning out of control and useless to the outlaws. Books’s plan to kill the slaves had backfired and blown up in his face.
Thermopolis accepted his new assignment and did not make any effort to hide his pleasure at the reshuffling. He now was in complete charge of Headquarters Company with two hundred and fifty men and women under him. And for the first time in years, Ben’s desk was clear and he could take to the field without having a guilty conscience.
Buddy Raines was given command of Eight Battalion and the young man was understandably nervous about it.
“Nothing changes, son,” Ben told him in his office. “Your battalion goes into Kaupulehu, take the airport, then split your forces and move down to Keahole Point and seize the airport there. You’ll do just fine. If I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t have put you in charge.”
“What are you grooming me for, Father?”
“Someday, you’ve got to assume command of all the Rebel forces, son. I won’t live forever. Tina doesn’t want it. She and West will be married before too much longer and she wants to settle down and have babies. Colonel West is not much younger than I am, and he’s going to want to retire when he marries. I think as soon as this Nazi threat is over, there will be some major reshuffling of command. If this Nazi threat is ever over, and that is one hell of a big if. Who did you put in charge of your Rat team?”
“Diane.”
“Good choice. She’s tough as a keg of nails. Did you get any flak from the men?”
“Oh, no. They all like and respect her.”
“Get to your command and meet with your o
fficers and sergeants. We hit the big island in seventy-two hours.”
Ben walked over to Headquarters Company and was pleased to see the place humming. Thermopolis had taken hold and jerked things together almost immediately. There were huge boards showing placement of troops and ships. Maps with colored pins showing areas of combat, possible combat, and landing sites. Therm could put his finger on every scrap of material belonging to Rebels anywhere in the world. The place buzzed with efficiency. Made Ben nervous.
“What’d you do with Emil?” Ben asked.
“Put him in charge of all portable toilets,” Thermopolis said with a grin. “Believe it or not, that is one hell of a large responsibility.”
“I believe it. Especially when you’re trying to find one of the damn things.”
“Look here,” Therm said, taking Ben’s arm and leading him to a huge wall map that covered much of one wall. “The red pins denote trouble spots all around the world. The black pins are the Nazi columns moving up through South America. The orange pins are General Payon’s troops. I’m in contact with Base Camp One and with General Payon’s liaison several times a day. The blue areas are Rebel outposts in America. Over on this map are highways. You can see where bridges are blown and sections of highway that are impassable. This map denotes Rebel storage areas and fuel dumps. I’ll be fully operational in here in a couple more days.”
“How long would it take you to pull this down and pack and move?”
“Less than an hour.”
“You’ve taken a hell of a lot of trouble off of my shoulders, Therm. And I appreciate it.”
“Not nearly as much as I do, Ben,” the hippie-turned-warrior said with a smile. “Now I get to sleep in a real bed every night . . . with my wife!”
On the big island of Hawaii, the creepies waited for the assault against them. They were under no illusions. They knew the Rebels did not take prisoners of Believers. Even if they tried to surrender, the cannibals would be shot on sight.
The Night People, Believers, creepies, whatever one chose to call them, were the most hated of all the enemies the Rebels had ever faced. Ungodly and inhuman, Doctor Lamar Chase called them.
Ben usually added a few other words to that.
On the evening before the jump-off to the big island, Ben walked over to Headquarters Company and had coffee with Thermopolis.
“Now you’re going to see just how big a responsibility I’ve handed you, Therm,” he told the men. “Once we’re on the island and moving, this room becomes the hub of all operations. Don’t expect to get much sleep for the first twenty-four to thirty-six hours. This isn’t exactly what a Headquarters Company is supposed to do, but here in this army, we tend to do things differently. I’ll be in contact with you quite often once we hit the big island.” He held out his hand and Therm shook it.
“Luck to you, Ben.”
“Keep it running for me, Therm.”
“Will do.”
Ben walked back out into the night, a smile on his lips. It was about to get real busy around the HQ.
Back at his office, he went over his equipment. His personal team was doing the same. “We board the boats in one hour,” he called to his people. “Double-check everything. Once we enter Hilo, we don’t get resupplied for some time.”
Ben slipped into his body armor and then slung his battle harness on and hooked it in place. He slipped his pack on and picked up his M-14. He did not realize it, but he was smiling. Ben was a warrior, not a desk soldier. He would die fighting in some battle, somewhere, not keel over with a heart attack laboring over paperwork in some damned office.
Corrie and Cooper and Jersey and Beth stole glances at Ben, then looked at one another and smiled. This was going to be an interesting campaign, for they could see that Ben was all fired up and hot to go.
Ben walked out of his office and into the anteroom. He winked at Jersey. “What’d you say, Jersey?”
She smiled. “Let’s go kick some ass, General!”
Boats of all description were being loaded when Ben and his team arrived. Ike had rumbled in, leading his fleet of PT boats, and Ben and his people climbed on board. “Straight to the docks at Hilo, Admiral,” Ben told the ex-SEAL.
Ike looked hard at him. In the distance, the big guns on board ship were still pounding away at Honolulu, the barrage never letting up. If there was anyone left alive in the city, they either had nerves of steel or were totally insane after days of shelling.
“Hilo hasn’t been softened up, Ben,” Ike reminded him.
“Resistance will be light in the towns,” Ben replied. “We’re going to have to dig the bastards out of the caves and tunnels. Crank it up, Ike. Let’s go.”
Ike slowly grinned. “I heard that you had changed into a real fire-eater after having all that paperwork lifted off you.”
“Not me, Ike. I’m still the same old peace-loving person I always was.”
Ike said a very ugly word and shoved off.
“Mountains, deserts, and rain forests,” Beth said, when they were out of the harbor and on their way. “Four thousand square miles. That’s the big island.”
“It isn’t going to be a picnic,” Ben said, his words just audible over the rumbling of the power plant.
Ben, Danjou, and West were the first to leave, followed by Georgi, Rebet, Dan, and Buddy. Ben studied maps and rested below decks as the armada made its way toward the big island. Hours later, Corrie stepped down the ladder.
“Danjou laying offshore, General. Hilo coming up fast now.”
Ben went up the ladder into the predawn darkness and Ike handed him binoculars. Ben could see no sign of life in the town of Hilo. No fires, no smoke, no movement, nothing.
“It had a population of about thirty thousand before the Great War,” he said.
“Maybe the creepies had a big banquet,” Cooper suggested.
“Gross-out, Coop!” Jersey said.
“I hate these goddamn people,” Ben muttered, handing the night lenses back to Ike. “Corrie, order the attack to begin. Let’s go, Ike.”
Hilo was a ghost town, the buildings long abandoned and thick with dirt and mold.
“Well, where the hell are they?” Ben questioned the dawning day. “They could have inflicted heavy casualties on us during the landing. Something is all out of whack here.”
“Buddy, Rebet, and Dan reporting heavy fighting,” Corrie said. “West is just hanging on at Ka Lae. General Striganov and Danjou reporting only very light resistance.”
“Gunships into West’s position,” Ben ordered. “Advise West and have him radio coordinates.”
“Scouts report the airport is heavy with creepies,” Corrie said, after getting the gunships up.
“I might have guessed,” Ben said. “What is their fascination with airports? I have never understood that.” Ben looked around him. “Where is Coop?”
“Rounding up some transportation,” Jersey told him. “He’ll probably come back in a damn hearse.”
Coop came panting up. “Not a usable vehicle to be found, General,” he reported. “But I found a whole bunch of bicycles.”
“Well, shit!” Jersey said.
Ben laughed. “How many bikes, Coop?”
“Whole warehouse full, General.”
“Come on, gang,” Ben said. “Let’s go pedal our way into battle.”
SIX
Once the bike riders reached the airport, the scene was anything but funny. The buildings were filled with creepies and they were putting up a fierce battle. Since the Rebels were armed with only light weapons, with no tanks to spearhead, the fight was building-to-building and hand-to-hand and the forces were very nearly evenly matched up.
Ben and his team fought their way into the main terminal and were immediately confronted by a screaming, stinking horde of creepies. Grenades thrown by Rebels turned a part of the terminal into a blood-splattered mess. One howling creepie jumped onto Jersey’s back, riding her down to the floor. Ben stuck the muzzle of his M-14 to the c
reature’s head and brains splattered the wall. Jersey struggled out from under the man, cussing as she crawled to her knees.
“Stinkin” son of a bitch!” she panted. “God, I hate these people.”
Then they were all belly-down on the dirty floor as automatic weapons fire ripped over their heads, the lead howling and screaming off the walls behind them. Creepies came leaping over chairs and benches in a last-ditch suicide charge, shrieking their hatred for the Rebels, and Ben and his team poured the lead to them, stopping them cold on the blood-slick floor.
The terminal building fell silent as the nearest creepie lay dying, still cursing the name of Ben Raines. Cooper walked over to him and shot the cannibalistic creature in the head. Ben and his team walked through the building, shooting the wounded where they lay. It was a callous act, but a necessary one. For the Rebels had found out the hard way that no Believer could be rehabilitated. The Rebels had lost personnel attempting that. Not even the young could be brought back to any type of civilized behavior. It was not something the Rebels relished, but all knew it had to be.
Outside the terminal building, the battle was waning as the Rebels finished the grisly job at the airport.
“Corrie,” Ben said. “Get our mechanics in here to get some vehicles running. We can’t pedal all over the damn island. We’ve got to have trucks.”
Corrie listened to her headset for a moment. “General Ike says we sure looked cute pedaling our way out here,” she said with a smile.
“You tell Ike,” Ben looked at her, “I said to kiss my . . .”
Corrie quickly tucked both ears under the pads, blotting out Ben’s words. She smiled sweetly at him.
“Get me a report from the other battalions,” Ben said, then lifted one of her earphones and repeated it when he realized she could not hear him. “I’m through cursing now, Corrie,” he added.
Vengeance in the Ashes Page 5