“Probably. I seem to recall that he died in New York City. Anybody see any uglies?”
No one had spotted any night crawlers.
“Beth, ask Katzman if he’s monitored any chatter from the unfriendlies?”
She spoke briefly, listened, and then smiled. “They can’t understand the transmissions, General. They’re trying to find someone among them who speaks Yiddish. So far, they have not, and I rather doubt they will. I’d be very surprised to find a Jew joining something that hideous.”
“But they might force a Jewish prisoner to translate for them,” Ben spoke quietly. “In return for his or her life. Everybody has their breaking point, and no one should condemn anyone else for breaking under torture.”
“Yes, sir. There is that,” Beth acknowledged.
Ben nodded. “We’ll use this method for a time. Ike? How many Native Indians do we have scattered among our troops?”
Ike grinned. “Got a whole passel of Sac and Fox, Ben. I see what you mean. I’ll send for them. We’ll really confuse these creepies.”
He left, Colonel West going with him. Ben’s bodyguards were getting antsy about their position, but Ben showed no interest in going back behind safe lines. He had Ike’s tourist guide and was reading it when he suddenly smiled broadly.
“What have you found, General?” Dan asked.
“Something we’re going to need if we ever go back to a money standard.”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Providing, that is, the loot is still there,” Ben mused.
“Money standard, sir?” Jersey asked.
“I’m looking ahead, years in the future, Jersey.” He turned to Dan. “Ever rob a bank, Dan?”
“Good heavens, no!”
“First time for everything,” Ben said dryly.
NINE
Cecil Jefferys and his Rebels had battled their way up 278, after first sealing off the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel. They then proceeded to clear an area two blocks in and all the way up to the Brooklyn Bridge. They now had a mainline into Manhattan.
Cecil turned to his translator. “Get Ben. Ask him if he’d like to buy a bridge.”
The radio operator grinned. “Yes, sir!”
Dan had convinced Ben to return to safe lines when the call came in. Dan groaned and rolled his eyes. “We don’t have it clear on our side, General,” he tried to convince Ben, knowing full well what was coming next from Ben’s mouth.
That bounced off Ben. “Get some people, Dan. Let’s go see Cecil.”
Everything was clear from the plaza to Maiden Lane, but from there it got iffy all the way over to the bridge. And even though it was late afternoon, Ben was adamant.
Dan stomped away, cussing. Most of his Scouts were now attached to other units scattered around various boroughs — all but one. With a sigh, he told his radio person to get in touch with Tina and get her team over to Water and Maiden Lane. On the double.
The distance was short and Tina and her team were at Dan’s side in less than two minutes. Dan saw Jerre and silently cursed the gods of Fate.
“What’s up, Dan?”
“Your father. Bull-headed person. Cecil has cleared the Brooklyn Bridge. The general wants to go over and meet him. Tell your point people to move out. Take Water all the way over to the bridge. Your team directly behind point. I’ll have two staggered squads coming up on either side of the street behind you. Now . . .”
A runner panted up to them. “Sir, the general’s taken off, heading for the bridge. Hell, I couldn’t stop him!”
“Go Tina. Pass him up and slow him down.”
Tina turned to her point people, Pam and Jerre. “You heard it. Move!”
Ben was not surprised when the Jeep roared past him. He had known Dan would send someone to slow him down. What did surprise him was who was in the Jeep.
The Scout Jeep slowed and forced Ben’s driver to stop at an intersection. Pam jumped out of the Jeep and walked back to Ben. Jerre crouched down beside the Scout Jeep, her M-16 at the ready.
“Colonel Gray’s compliments, General. He asks that you wait for him here.”
Ben smiled. “As you wish, Pam.”
“Would the general please get out of the Jeep so he will not be so exposed.”
Ben looked down at his fly. Jersey and the driver laughed and Pam rolled her eyes.
“Please, sir?”
“Oh, all right.” Ben got out and knelt down in the littered street. Beth and Jersey and the driver all vacated the Jeep and knelt down around Ben. It was obvious to Ben that this was something they had worked out in private. They had him completely protected: the Jeep to his left side, Jersey to his right, his driver, Cooper, behind him, and Beth in front of him.
“Has that Plaza over there been cleared?” Ben asked, pointing across the street.
“It’s had a quick run-through,” Jerre called back to him. “I just came out of briefing.”
“Why do you ask, General?” Pam asked. She hoped he didn’t have it in his mind to go sight-seeing.
“Because I want to see it, that’s why.”
Before anyone could make a move to stop him, Ben slipped through the bodyguards and was running across the street.
Speaking before she thought, Jerre called, “Ben! Damn it, Ben, will you stop?”
“Ben?” Cooper asked, looking at Pam and Beth.
The women shrugged.
Jerre left her position and ran after Ben, as he was just disappearing into the plaza at 88 Pine Street. Bullets began ricocheting off the street, just inches behind her boots. Ben reappeared in the entranceway, found the sniper’s position and uncorked a full clip from the Thompson. Jerre slipped past him and leaned against the inner wall, catching her breath.
Beth was speaking into her handset, advising that they had come under fire and the general and Jerre were pinned down.
The windows across the way had filled with black-robed creeps, all heavily armed.
“Now we know why they pulled back,” Ben said. “It was a sucker play.”
“Hell of a way to find out,” Jerre replied.
“I thought you liked excitement in your life?”
“I’m older now, Ben.”
“Still look nineteen.”
“Thank you.” She looked around her. “What is this place? It looks weird.”
“Something I always wanted to see but never got around to it.” Ben spoke over the rattle of gunfire. In the distance, he could hear the roaring of vehicles coming up fast. “That’s a two-part sculpture over there. Step through that opening, and unless somebody swiped it, there’s a big reflective disc.”
“You wanted to come in here and admire your handsome face, maybe?”
“No, I wanted to comb my hair!” Ben popped back at her.
A bullet almost did part his hair, knocking bits of stone out of the entranceway and showering them both with dust.
“Get some damn fifties up here!” Ben shouted across the street.
“Coming, sir!” Pam yelled. “Are you all right?”
“Just ducky!”
“Behind us, Ben!” Jerre shouted, dropping to one knee and leveling her M-16.
Ben turned and added his Thompson’s heavy growling to the bark of the .223. “Try not to hit the sculpture!” Ben said, fighting the upward climb of the SMG.
If Jerre said anything in reply it was lost in the gunfire. Two night crawlers made the distance and leaped at Ben and Jerre. Jerre’s M-16 chose that time to pump its clip empty. She judged where the creeper’s balls might be, under the dark robe, and gave him a shot with the stock of the rifle. The blow doubled him over and put him on the ground, squalling in pain.
The other one landed on Ben, both of them falling to the dirty, littered floor of the entranceway, Ben losing his grip on the Thompson. The night crawler had a hatchet in his hand. Ben grabbed the stinking man’s right hand in his left hand, and jerked out his long-bladed Bowie, driving it into the man’s side. The luck was with him again, the
blade sliding between ribs. Ben twisted the blade and again rammed it in to the hilt. The stinking robed figure stiffened as the blade nicked the heart, and then slumped as darkness took him.
Ben pushed him off and jumped to his feet. Jerre was standing over the moaning man with the sore balls. “Kill him!” he ordered.
Jerre looked at him.
“I said kill the son of a bitch, Jerre!”
The entranceway was filled with Rebels, Dan and Tina at the front of the pack.
Still Jerre would not kill the man.
Ben reached down and cut the man’s throat with his Bowie knife.
Ben glanced once at Jerre, then stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“Miss Hunter,” Dan said, “report back to the depot. I will see that you are reassigned to a noncombative position.”
“It was worth all the fighting getting here just to see your ugly face, Cecil,” Ben said with a grin, extending his hand.
The men stood on the Brooklyn Bridge. They were both ringed by Rebels.
“You old goat!” Cecil replied, taking the hand. His own smile faded. “I heard you were pinned down. With Jerre.”
“We got out,” Ben said simply.
“How’d Jerre do?”
“She did all right until it came time to kill an unarmed unfriendly. Then she balked.” He shrugged. “It isn’t something that everyone can do, Cecil.” Damn you, Raines! he cursed his mind. Always defending her, aren’t you? “Dan reassigned her.”
“There won’t be any stigma attached, Ben. A lot of people join the Scouts and don’t pan out, then do well in another unit.”
Ben nodded absently. He had a hunch that Jerre would not be with the Rebels long. She had never been the type to take public humiliation. “Anyway, I got to see Yu Yu Yang’s sculpture in the plaza. But by then it had sort of lost some of its appeal.”
“Let’s talk while we’ve still got some light, Ben. I’ll level with you: clearing Brooklyn and Queens is going to be a bitch.”
“Yeah? Well, at least you won’t have so damned many skyscrapers to climb.” He shook his head. “I know it’s rough, Cec. Manhattan is not that big, area-wise — about twenty-three square miles — and we haven’t even begun to make a dent in it. Brooklyn and Queens make up about a hundred and seventy-five square miles. Are there Night People in every building, Cec?”
“Just about. We’ve learned that they tend to be loners during the day. Seldom more than two or three bunched up together when they sleep. It’s at night when they congregate. And the don’t eat every day, Ben. Maybe two or three times a week. We learned that much from some rather frantic writing on a wall in a walk-up. The person who wrote it added that he was going to try to make a break for it before they caught him.”
“I wonder if he made it?”
“God only knows, Ben. It’s sickening and hideous and disgusting and . . .” He spat on the concrete to clear his mouth of the bad taste.
“I know, Cec. I just had one of the stinking uglies on top of me.”
“Yes, I can tell,” his friend forced a smile with the words. “The odor still lingers.”
“I haven’t told any of my people — other than the ones who brought him to me — but I’ve already had one man go down, mentally, under the strain. He’s going to be all right. He’ll be back on limited duty in a week or so; however, he won’t be the last one to take a mental beating.”
Cec agreed. “How is your mental state, Ben?”
“I’m fine, Cec. You, me, Ike, Dan, West — most of us older people — we’ve been through enough of this to be able to steel ourselves.”
“I wasn’t talking about the combat, Ben.”
Ben knew what he was talking about, and chose to ignore it.
“All right, Ben. I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
“I appreciate it, Cec. Have you thought about fuel to heat and cook with this winter?” Ben not too tactfully changed the subject.
“Yes. I propose utilizing coal and wood and heating oil. There should be storage tanks full of heating oil close in.”
“How many people can you spare to go looking?”
Cec grunted. “Not many. Two squads?” he asked hopefully.
“I’ll match that and so will Ike. West is operating short as it is. But holding his own. I’m sending Tina out on a scouting expedition — over to Teterboro Airport. If it’s operable, we’ll land our birds there. Have you sent anyone over to J.F.K.?”
Cec sighed. “Yeah. Sorry. It slipped my mind. They just got back last night. I sent them in black-faced . . .” He grinned, and the good humor usually within the man touched his eyes for the first time.
Ben laughed at his friend. “You should have sent some of your Brothers in, Cec, save all that grease.”
“Screw you, Raines! Anyway, they reported back that the place is literally swarming with creepies. The airport seems to be their headquarters for that area.”
“Wonderful.” Ben’s word was bitterly spoken. “Strength estimate?”
Cecil grimaced. “Five hundred or better.”
“That might be where some of the breeding or feeding farms are located.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, Ben. You’re right. Shit!” The profanity was very nearly like an anguished scream for strength and courage.
“Cec.” Ben put a hand on his old friend’s shoulder. “If it’s getting to you, man, tell me. Take a break; get some rest. Hell, come over and we’ll get drunk if you think that will help.”
Cecil met his friend’s gaze. “You wanna get slopped with me,” Ben?”
“Yeah,” Ben said without hesitation. “I do.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Ben turned to Beth. “Tell Katzman to radio to Cecil’s CP. Tell his XO to take command for this evening. General Jefferys will be in my quarters, ah, going over logistical charts.”
“Yes, sir!” Beth laughed.
The voices raised in song, the words drifted out to the Rebels within a one-block area of Ben’s CP.
“THERE ONCE WAS A QUEER FROM KHARTOUM
“TOOK A LESBIAN UP TO HIS ROOM
“THEY ARGUED ALL NIGHT, AS TO WHO HAD THE RIGHT,
“TO DO WHAT, AND TO WHICH, AND TO WHOM!”
Beth, Jersey, and Tina were sitting on the curb outside the CP. The women shook their heads as the words got rougher.
“What would happen,” Beth asked, “if they both get drunker and we come under attack?”
“Don’t kid yourself,” Tina told her. “I’ve seen them do this many times. They’re not nearly as drunk as they let on. This is just a smaller version of what is called male bonding.
“I’ve read about that. I hope to be a doctor someday, and in my free time, I’m reading everything I can get my hands on. I just finished a study on men’s clubs, both formal and casual. Men felt a much greater need to bond than most women, according to the report.”
“Sure. I’ll accept that . . . for the most part. From what I’ve been able to read about it.”
Dan Chase came wandering up and passed the women, Chase muttering, “Big ox throws a party and doesn’t invite us. By God, we’ll just crash it.”
“Why are they really doing it, Tina?” Jersey asked.
“Uncle Cec, because he’s sickened by what we have to do in dealing with the Night People. This is just a blowout valve for him. Dad, because probably the only woman he ever truly loved just wandered back into his life.”
“Tina,” Jersey looked at her. “I froze the first time I was supposed to shoot an unarmed enemy.”
“I did, too. But then what happened to us?”
“I got jerked out of combat.”
“So did I. Jerre’s all right. She held her own in that plaza. Look, it’s no crime to wash out of the Scouts. And I hope she doesn’t feel that way. I think Dan was just looking for some excuse to reassign her.”
“Colonel Gray should keep his nose out of it,” Jersey said, quite uncharacteristically. “Your dad is a grown man.”
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Beth, being a comparative newcomer this close to the Inner Circle, kept her mouth closed on the subject. But she agreed with Jersey.
Then Tina shocked them both by saying, “I agree. At first I thought Jerre had a lot of gall to show up here. Maybe she still does. But she and Dad have to work this thing out by themselves.”
The voices rang out anew:
“JACK AND JILL WENT UP THE HILL
“EACH WITH A DOLLAR AND A QUARTER,
“JILL CAME DOWN WITH TWO AND A HALF,
“YOU THINK THEY WENT UP FOR WATER?”
Jersey shook her head. “Pitiful.”
Chase broke into song about a woman stranded on an island with no men. Only banana trees. That grew large bananas.
“I think it’s gonna get rough, girls,” Tina said.
“Get rough?” Jersey looked at her.
“Oh, you haven’t heard anything yet. Wait ’til they start singing about ‘Humping in the kitchen and screwing in the hall.’”
Beth cut her eyes. “That’s a new one on me. I’m wondering if I really want to hear it.”
Tina laughed. “Lie to yourself, baby, if you want to. But don’t try lying to me and Jersey. Hell, yes, you want to hear it.”
Beth laughed and shook her head.
“I think we ought to charge admission for this performance,” Jersey suggested
“That’s a good thought,” Tina agreed. “However, it has one drawback.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. What do we use for money?”
TEN
Ben was up hours before dawn, as usual, with only a slight hangover. He took several aspirin and began to feel human as he worked on his second cup of coffee. Walking into his office — a large room next to what he used as his bedroom — he looked over at Beth, still sleeping on a cot. Being as quiet as he could, he picked up a clipboard and scanned the night’s reports. Very little had happened, only a few widely scattered and very brief firefights within the area the Rebels now occupied.
He stepped outside and stood in the very cool early morning air. Winter was very close now. Ben paused, thinking, Has Thanksgiving come and gone? He couldn’t remember. Didn’t think so. Surely somebody would have remembered it.
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