Ben leaned against a fender of his Blazer and alternately sipped a cup of coffee Jersey had brought him and studied a map of Buffalo that the Chamber of Commerce had issued years back, the map taken off one of the dead outlaws miles back.

He really wanted to save the town. He would have liked to have both Sheridan and Buffalo as outposts. He just didn’t know, at this time, whether that was feasible. Ben glanced up at the sky. The trek through the mountains had taken far less time than he had imagined. They still had hours of good light left them.

Dan walked up to his side.

Ben met the man’s eyes. “We’ll attack the town, Dan.” Ben’s smile was hard. “But not in any manner they might be expecting.”

Dan Gray’s Scouts slipped close to the town and its now very nervous defenders. The outlaws all knew that somewhere south of their position, Pete Jones and his gang were coming north hard; but no one knew exactly where they were or when they were due to arrive.

What they did know was that Ben Raines was close enough to practically stick the muzzle of a rifle up their collective asses and pull the trigger while the hard bastard laughed at their discomfort.

One outlaw made the mistake of showing an elbow. A slug from a .50 caliber sniper rifle took off his lower arm. Another caught a bullet right between his eyes when he peeked around the side of an old warehouse on the edge of town. A third outlaw tried to run from one house to the other and was spun around and around like a lurching top as half a dozen slugs from Rebel rifles struck him.

“Man, we need some help down here!” a biker yelled into his mike. “We got three or four guys down dead or dyin’ and we ain’t even seen no Rebs.”

“They’s five hundred of you guys down there!” Satan screamed into his mike. “You got machine guns, mortars, and enough ammo to last a fuckin’ yearl Start droppin’ some rounds in on them Rebs!”

“How the hell can we drop rounds in on people that we cain’t even see, you asshole!”

And while they were arguing, Buddy and his Rat Team were silently infiltrating the town. On this trip, Buddy was armed with his crossbow for more silent killing. Colonel Dan Gray was personally leading the rest of his Scouts into the town.

Had the outlaws been a bit more industrious about keeping the brush and grass cut around the outskirts of town, it would have made the infiltration much more difficult.

One team of Scouts had swung wide, coming up on the south end of town and planting explosives all along a thousand-meter stretch. At Dan’s orders, the explosives blew.

“They’re attackin’ from the south end!” the leader of the bikers in Buffalo yelled. “Gary, swing your people around and beef up Leadfoot.”

But Leadfoot was cursing and kicking and trying to get his butt up off the floor where he had been knocked when the building next to him was demolished by C4. The force of that explosion had caved in one wall of the building he had occupied.

One of his brother bikers had been running to Leadfoot’s assistance when he rounded the wrong corner. His eyes widened and his mouth opened for just a second as his unbelieving eyes watched as the heavy machete blade impacted against the softness of his throat. The blade very neatly took his head off.

Leadfoot got to his feet just in time to feel something squishy hit him the center of his back. “Goddamnit!” he yelled, turning around.

He stood seemingly rooted to the floor, his eyes mirroring his horror as they stared down at Shorty’s head, the wide-open and forever unblinking eyes staring back at him.

It took only a few seconds for Leadfoot to react. He hit the floor and began crawling around looking for his Ml6. He found his weapon and his walkie-talkie. He punched the side button and whispered into the cup, “Leadfoot to Beerbelly.”

“I’s “fraid you was dead, Leadfoot.”

“Shorty is. Somebody cut off his head and chunked into the house. Hit me in the back with it. Most Godawfuliest damn thing I ever seen in my life. Where’s the rest of the boys?”

“Keepin” they asses down. Injun Sam and his boys has done swung around to your sector. You readin’ this, Injun?”

“Yeah. But I ain’t swung nowheres. I got Rebs all around me, man. The sneaky bastards has done slipped into town and is all over the place. I just seen Texas Jim; as a matter of fact, I can still see him. He’s on the end of a rope danglin’ from a tree. The bastards hung him! Tumble thing to see.”

A hard burst of gunfire caused Injun Sam to get a little closer to the floor. The only thing that prevented him from getting any closer were the buttons on his shirt.

Injun Sam crawled under a table as a grenade exploded right outside his position. He said a lot of very hard and uncomplimentary things about Ben Raines.

But he said them under his breath, not wanting to give away his location. Damn Reb might be listening right outside the window. Sneaky bastards!

Wanda, the leader of a bunch of dyke bikers, had taken cover, along with her Sisters of Lesbos, behind the walls of an elementary school.

“I hate that goddamn Ben Raines,” she hissed at no one in particular.

“I bet he was a Republican,” Sweet Meat whispered.

“He’s a goddamn man,” Sugar summed it up. “That’s enough.”

“I hate Ben Raines,” Wanda repeated.

“About two hours of daylight left,” Ben said to Corrie. “Advise Dan to hunt a hole until dark. Then really start headhunting.”

Corrie relayed the orders and Dan’s operator acknowledged them.

“Received, General. They’re going deep.”

“I’m hoping that if nothing happens during the next several hours, the bikers will think we’ve pulled out and they’ll try to do something cute.”

“We’re going to try to save the town?”

“If at all possible.”

After two hours of silence, the outlaws began to relax just a bit. Some even began to believe those Rebels who had infiltrated the town had pulled back with the approaching darkness.

Many of those who believed that would not live out the night.

As full night pushed dusk out of the way, and finished spreading her dark wings of concealment over the town, Dan Gray and his Scouts slipped from their hiding places and went about their very silent and very deadly work.

The first to be very brutally tossed into that long sleep was a careless biker who thought he’d slip over to where the female slaves were held and knock himself off a quick piece.

He got knocked off and the piece of himself that got the most attention was not the member he originally had in mind.

The outlaw died with his eyes wide open, the blood staining the front of his dirty shirt, and his head nearly severed from his body just as he was unlocking the door to the slave quarters.

Buddy cautiously pushed open the door and looked inside the darkness. He smiled and waved several members of his Rat Team inside. Working very swiftly, and whispering to the slaves to be very quiet, the Scouts freed the men and women and children.

“Are there any more prisoners being held in this town?” Buddy whispered the question.

“The north end of town,” the woman told him in a soft voice. “About twenty or so girls and a half a dozen boys. They were handpicked to serve Snake.”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Get the others out of here,” the woman said. “I’ll lead you there.” “It’ll be very dangerous,” Buddy warned her.

The woman’s smile, which Buddy observed in the moonlight coming through a very dirty window, was only slightly less than savage. “I’ve been using a Mini-14 for years and I can probably outshoot you with a pistol. It took these scum three years to finally corner and catch me, and before it was over, I left a dozen of them on the ground that last day.”

Buddy smiled. “Welcome to the Army of Ben Raines. I’m his son, Buddy.”

“You’re a handsome devil, for a fact. But you’re a little young for me.” She cut her eyes as Dan Gray slipped like a shadow into the slave house. “Now that one!” She let that remark speak for itself.

“We don’t have the time for socializing,” Dan softly chided his people. “Let’s go! Get these people back to our lines.”

Buddy waved him over and pointed to the woman. “This is, ah …”

“Sarah,” she said, sticking out her head. “Sarah Bradford. And you’d be …”

“Colonel Dan Gray.” He took the offered hand and looked into her eyes.

“She’ll be leading us to the other prisoner house,” Buddy told him.

But Dan and Sarah were busy gazing into each other’s eyes.

Buddy squatted on the dirty floor and smiled at the man and woman. After a few seconds, he asked, “Are you two going to make a career of this?”

Dan shifted his eyes. “Don’t be impertinent, young man. Get the lady armed and let’s go.” He moved to the door and slipped out into the darkness. “I like a tough man,” Sarah said, belting a dead outlaw’s pistol around her waist and taking the Ml6 handed her.

“Well, you have certainly met one. You ready?”

“Let’s go. You follow me. I was raised on a ranch over on Crazy Woman Creek. I know this town better than you know the back of your hand.”

“After you, ma’am.”

Outside, Dan looked on with admiration as Sarah came upon the body of another outlaw with his throat cut and reached down with no qualms and took his sheath knife from the cooling body, slipping it onto her belt, then testing the edge.

“I wouldn’t want to dress out a steer with it,” Sarah said. “But it’ll do to cut a throat until I can find a stone.”

They slipped away into the darkness, heading for the second prisoner house.

“What a magnificent woman!” Dan was heard to whisper.

The Scouts escorting the freed prisoners swung wide around the town, using the same trails they came in on, and reached Ben’s position.

Dr. Ling then took command of the survivors while the Scouts briefed Ben.

“I think he’s in love.”

“Who?” Ben asked, startled.

“Colonel Gray.”

“Who the hell did he fall in love with?”

“One of the prisoners.”

Tina smiled. “Isn’t this all rather sudden?” Ben held up a hand. “Wait a minute, wait a minute! Let’s back up. Where is Dan now?”

“Going to free the other prisoners, with his lady love leading the way.”

Ben walked away, mumbling to himself, heading toward the truck that was temporarily serving as a coffee and ration wagon. “Love!” he muttered. “Love! I’m trying to fight a war, not run a lonely hearts club!” He passed by Dan’s Jeep, where Chester was sitting on the front seat, waiting for Dan to return.

The little dog wagged its tail at Ben’s approach. “You’re about to have some competition, Chester.” Ben stopped and petted the animal. “But I don’t think you’ll mind at all. Just one more person to spoil you.”

Chester jumped up into Ben’s arms and Ben carried it toward the mess truck, enduring Chester’s licking his ear as they walked.

“There’s the house,” Sarah said.

Dan glanced at his watch. “The diversion team should be in place. Give them two clicks,” he told his radio operator. The signal to open the ball.

Seconds later, a huge explosion rocked and destroyed half a dozen buildings at the south end of town. Outlaws began shifting about, beefing up that end of town, believing a major attack had once more begun from the south.

Leadfoot and Beerbelly and Injun Sam and the others braced for attack. Wanda and her followers began once more to curse Ben Raines.

Carefully placed Scouts began directing heavy machine gun fire into the buildings at the south end of Buffalo. More outlaws were shifted to the south to repel the attack.

Buddy lifted his crossbow and put a bolt through a guard’s back, the force of the heavy bolt knocking the man down, dead as he hit the ground.

“What the hell was that?” an outlaw’s voice carried to the Scouts. “Luddy-Luddy? What was that sound?”

But Luddy was on the ground, a crossbow bolt through his heart.

The outlaw biker who called for Luddy slipped around the house. He experienced a few seconds of hideous pain as a knife blade slammed into his stomach and the blade, cutting edge up, tore through vital organs, finally ripping the heart.

Rebels stormed the house, expecting more guards, and were pleasantly surprised to find none.

That frightened prisoners were quickly freed from the ropes that bound them. “Come on, people,” Sarah said in a hoarse whisper. “Let’s go. Ben Raines and his Rebels are here.”

And while the outlaws were busy fighting the “Big-ass bunch of Rebels that attacked them from the south side,” as Leadfoot would later report, Dan Gray and his Scouts exited the town from the north end, with all the prisoners. be

“Ol’ Slim conned you,” Matt announced to the defenders of Buffalo by radio the next morning. “I warned you about that sneaky no-good. You got to stay on your toes all the time when he’s around. He’ll stick a knife in your back and twist it. Just like he done to me years back.”

“I didn’t know Ben Raines ever stabbed Snake,” Beerbelly said.

Injum Sam blinked. “Me, neither.”

“He didn’t,” Leadfoot enlightened them. “”At there’s a figger of speech.”

“Leadfoot’s pretty smart,” Wanda said, adding, “For a man.”

“You shuck them drawers, Wanda,” Leadfoot replied, “and I’ll show you just how much of a man I really am.”

Wanda flipped him the finger.

Matt Callahan, aka the Rattlesnake Kid, then gave a speech that just about bored the boots off those listening, calling on his boys to defend the ranch against invaders.

Since the outlaws had been up all night, too spooked to go to sleep, many of them dozed off during Matt’s long-winded harangue.

Three miles away, Ben was climbing into the Blazer. Settled in the seat, he picked up his mike. “We don’t have any prisoners to worry about now, gang. Let’s take the town.”

“Holy shit I” Beerbelly said, looking through binoculars at the fifty-ton battle tanks slowly advancing up Highway 16, all buttoned up and ready for action. Behind the main battle tanks came the smaller Dusters.

Beerbelly had been a Grunt in ‘nam-one of the few bikers who’d ever had any actual combat experience-and he knew firsthand what those twin-mounted 40mm cannon on the Dusters could do.

He also knew that the old World War Two Army surplus mortars Snake had supplied them with wouldn’t dent those big-assed battle tanks.

The tanks stopped about two thousand meters out and elevated the muzzles of the 105’s for range.

Beerbelly cussed. Since most of his mortars were the old M19 models, without mount, the maximum range was about five hundred yards. Add to that the bubbles were all screwed up on them and none of the crews assigned to handle them knew what a klick was … so the sum total of all that was a disaster waiting to happen.

Beerbelly lowered the binoculars. “Let’s get the hell out of here! We’ll set up about fifteen miles north of the town on the Interstate. Move, goddamnit, move!”

“Snake ain’t gonna like this,” Blackie told him.

“Snake can kiss ass, too. We ain’t no good to him dead. Move, man.”

“Bugging out,” Ben said, standing on top of the Blazer and watching the exodus through binoculars.

“As soon as they’re clear, Dan, take your Scouts in and inspect for booby traps.”

“Right, sir.”

“Buddy, take your Rat Team in and find the airstrip. Get it cleaned up for our birds. We’re in no hurry. I intend to make Buffalo an outpost. We’ll probably need to widen and lengthen the strip for PU!’S.”

“Yes, Father. You’ll need a CP. I’ll find one suitable for you.”

Ben and the main force of Rebels stayed clear of the town for more than an hour, until Buddy and his people announced the all-clear. Then the Rebel Army of Ben Raines rolled into Buffalo, Wyoming, and began the job of cleaning it up for use as an outpost.

Ben and Dan inspected the small airport and Dan said he felt the birds from Base Camp One could use it as is, as soon as it was cleaned up.

Meg and Sarah walked up with a group of Rebels.

“How do you feel about staying here, Sarah?” Ben asked. “Becoming part of the settlers?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks, General. Satan and that bunch of trash with him burned her old ranch out on the Crazy Woman. They chased me all over the north half of Wyoming for a couple of years. I think I’ll dedicate the rest of my life to helping clear the nation of crud like that … if that’s all right with you.”

“Fine with me, Sarah. You’re certainly welcome. You hid out in this part of the country for a long time. How many people are out there?”’” He waved his hand.

“Hundreds, General. I roamed from the South Dakota line to the Middle Fork of the Powder. I’d guess about half of the people were too scared to help me. You can forget about them; they’re losers any way you cut it. I’d guess many of them have already pulled out for what they think are safer areas-if there is such a thing-or have been killed by outlaws. The rest of the people, the tough breed, well, they’re making it. But they’re not doing it by being real gentle. They will shoot you.” She wrinkled her nose. “What is that smell?”

“An outlaw by the name of Texas Jim,” Buddy told her. “Some of my team hanged him the other afternoon. I’ll cut him down and get him in the ground.”

“Thank you,” Ben said drily. He cut his eyes to Sarah. “You said you hadn’t been a prisoner long?”

“About three weeks, I think. You tend to lose track of time after the first week.”

“What are we facing, Sarah?”

“A pretty tough bunch of people, General. I’ll give them that much. They’ve had a long time to get their act together. These outlaw bikers were pulled in from all over the west by Matt Callahan. Snake. It’d be safe to say that Snake controls most of the Northwest. This part of the country is the easternmost section of his territory. His headquarters is just north of Sheridan. A ranchhouse that’s built like a fort. I’d say he keeps about fifty or seventy-five men on the grounds all the time. And those guys are really tough. Snake handpicked them. They’re tough, but they’re filth. The worst of the lot. And that’s really scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

“How easy is the access to the house?”

“Almost impossible. For a year, I tried to figure out a way to get in there and kill Callahan. I never could get close enough to get a shot at him. When he does leave the house to go riding, he’s got dozens of men with him. And they can sit a saddle, make no mistake about that. They cover him like a blanket. With you this close, though, I don’t imagine he’ll chance leaving the house. And if you’re thinking about cutting the head off the snake, namely Matt Callahan forget it. You couldn’t get your tanks with the big guns within ten miles of that place without being spotted. There’s one road in and one road out. Callahan destroyed the rest of the roads. He’s crazy, but smart.”

“You say there is a group of women bikers riding for Matt?”

“I’d call them anything but women,” Sarah said with a grimace. “Bunch of damn dykes. And they are pure crud. Cruel. Don’t cut them any slack because they’re of the female gender. They’re just as bad, or worse, as the men. And they’ll fight just as hard.”

“Can you give me some numbers, Sarah?” “If Callahan pulls all his people in-something I don’t think he’ll do; he’ll keep some in reserve-we’ll be looking at several thousand people. And I heard talk about more coming up from the south and some sort of army moving this way from the east.”

“That’s the story of our life, Sarah,” Dan told her. “We’re almost always outnumbered. But seldom outgunned. What we have that Callahan doesn’t is organization. We can resupply in ten hours by air.”

“That’s good, because you’re going to need to do that, probably more than once.” She looked at Ben. “Matt Callahan hates you, General. You’re an obsession with him.”

“I am fully aware of that, Sarah. Do you have any idea how he plans to conduct his… campaign against us?”

She shook her head. “No. Satan might. But he would be the only one … that’s providing Callahan even knows himself.”

“He’s that far gone mentally?”

“I met him when he first came into this area, several years ago. He’s fascinated by the area around the Little Bighorn River-Custer’s Last Stand. He used to go there quite often. I’d say he knows as much about that part of the country as any man living.” She studied Ben’s face. “Does that have some significance, General?”

“God, I hope not,” Ben said, the remark puzzling them all.

“What’s he doin” down yonder?” Matt asked Satan. “Looks like to me he’s settlin in to stay.” It was the fourth day after Ben and the Rebels had occupied Buffalo. Those rescued had been flown back to Base Camp One and Rebels in Wyoming had been resupplied to the point of overflowing.

And still Ben waited.

“Ol’ Slim’s shore got something up his sleeve,” Matt opined. “I just can’t figure out what.”

“Nothing good for us,” Satan said glumly. “You can bet on that.”

“We’ll whup him, Satan,” Matt assured the biker. “What’s the latest on them hardcases comin’ up from the south?”

“They’re in Wyoming. But they’re having to work their way up slow to avoid being spotted by them people Raines put in Rawlins. They’re comin’ up 191 and then will cut over on 28. Wind their toward us that way.”

Matt moved to his desk and studied a state map. He shook his head. “I don’t like it but I reckon it can’t be helped. We might have been a tad hasty in havin’ them bridges blown on the Interstate.”

We, hell! Satan thought. That was your idea.

“But… we done “er, so there ain’t no use a-wh*” about it now. What’d you hear from this Ashley person and that crazy woman he’s with? What’s that crazy bitch’s handle?”

“Sister Voleta. They’re getting close. Last transmission was sent from around Bismark, North Dakota. I told them to start heading in a more southwesterly direction. That Ashley feller got all uppity with me. Said he was perfectly capable of reading a map without any help from a cretin.” Satan wasn’t really sure what a cretin was, but he figured it was an insult.

“We’ll deal with him after Ben Raines is defeated.”

Satan just had to say it. “There ain’t no one ever beat him yet, Snake.”

Matt’s eyes turned killing cold as they slowly lifted to stare at Satan. Physically, Satan could have easily ripped Matt apart without working up a sweat. But deep down inside the man, Satan both strangely feared and respected the smaller and older man.

“I’m gonna kill him, Satan. You can just go head on and carve his name on a marker. “Cause I’m gonna kill the sidewinder.”

And for the first time in a week, Satan felt that Snake really just might pull it off.

Ben had spent the four days studying maps of Sheridan and being briefed as to the locations of Pete Jones and his outlaws, and the advancing army of Ashley and Sister Voleta. Rebel communications had them both locked in and descrambled.

Ashley and Sister Voleta were still days away. But Pete Jones and his bunch were just about close enough to start breathing down the Rebels” necks.

And Ben was worried about Buddy having to face his mother-admitted nut and perverted killer that she was-in combat. He called Buddy to his CP.

“You wanted to see me, Father?” The son stuck his handsome head into his dad’s office.

Ben waved him to a chair. “I want you and your Rat Team to get with Captain Tony of D Company. Draw supplies for a long field run. Take two of the self-propelled 81mm mortar carriers with you. One fifty-caliber machine gun per platoon. Your team take one also. I’ve already sent a crew out to clear the ambush site in the mountains so you can get through.” He stood up and walked to a state map thumbtacked to the wall and covered with clear plastic. “I want you here, son.” He pointed to the town of Worland. “This Pete Jones person and his army of crud was last reported, about two hours ago, just south of Lander. You should reach Worland by dawn. That’ll give you plenty of time to pick your ambush sites and get some rest.

“Now, boy, I don’t expect you and Captain Tony to stop Pete Jones cold. From what we’ve been able to piece together, this Jones person has put together between five hundred and six hundred outlaws. But I want you to slow him down. None of this nonsense about standing or dying. You know how I feel about that. If you get in a bind, haul your butt out of there. You’ll take your orders from Tony. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Start drawing equipment and supplies. I want you on the road as soon as possible.”

Dan had stood just outside the door, with Ben knowing he was there, listening. As soon as Buddy left, he entered Ben’s office.

“You approve, Dan?”

“Definitely. For more than one reason.”

Ben arched an eyebrow.

“We can handle Matt Callahan and those coming at us from the east. Oh, before I forget, the PU!’S are on the way.”

“Good. The other reasons, Dan?”

“Buddy knows his mother is a kook, a killer, a psychopath. That doesn’t mean he has to be present should she be killed.”

“Thank you, Dan. My sentiments exactly.” Ben sighed. “I sometimes wonder if the bitch can be killed.”

“She certainly has been a thorn in our sides for longer than I care to think about.”

“Tennessee, wasn’t it?”

“Urarara? Yes, I believe it was.”

“What have you been able to piece together about their strength?”

“We’re going to be badly outnumbered.”

“That large a force?”

“Yes, sir. They’re picking up outlaws the way a magnet draws metal.”

“I want Sheridan intact. So we’re going to have to go in and take it house to house, meeting the bikers nose to nose.”

“As much as I admire Sarah, I have to question her opinion as to the outlaws standing firm and fighting us. I do believe they will make a show of force-at first. Oh, they’ll fight us house to house, but all the while they’ll be falling back. That’s my opinion.”

“And mine, Dan. When are the birds due in from the base?”

“This afternoon. They’ll be landing with the PU!’S to throw off any observers Callahan might have watching us.”

“Cecil confirm he’s sending in those spares that I requested?”

“Yes, sir. Like you, I think we’re going to suffer some casualties taking Sheridan. With the extra birds standing by, we can fly out any hard-hit immediately.”

Ben turned to stare out a window in the office. “Any word as to whether, ah, HALFASS…” He couldn’t keep the broad smile off his face at just the thought of that stupid name. “dis . . has made any moves against Emil or Thermopolis?”

“No moves so far.” Dan, too, was smiling. “I think Callahan is concentrating solely on us. The man just may be realizing what a big bite he’s taken.”

“Can we get any number at all concerning the prisoners being held in Sheridan?”

“Sarah thinks several hundred, at least.”

Ben nodded and continued to gaze out the window. “Make certain Buddy and Captain Tony have everything they need, Dan. Then report back to me. We’re going to be on the outskirts of Sheridan at dawn tomorrow.”

Ben stepped out of his CP several hours before dawn. He was in full battle harness. His personal team knew his habits well, and they; were waiting for him. The entire encampment was] up, but moving very quietly and using very little light so those observers watching them from a distance wouldn’t be alerted.

Ben looked up at the sky. “Going to be a beautiful day,” he remarked.

Jersey handed him a mug of coffee without comment.

“Teams in place above the roadblocks on the Interstate,” Corrie informed him.

“Who led them?” j

“Colonel Gray, sir.”

“He made good time.” Ben took a sip of coffee.

“He probably pushed them pretty hard.”

“Buddy and Captain Tony?”

“They made it to Worland about an hour ago. Setting up now.”

“The mortar carriers have their rubber pads on?” “Yes, sir. Done last evening.”

“Tell the crew chiefs to move them out, Corrie.”

She radioed the orders and the self-propelled 81mm mortar carriers began their trek up the Interstate to within range of the roadblocks set up by Beerbelly and the other bikers.

“Breakfast?”

“Cold rations, sir. All personnel have eaten and are standing by to mount up.”

“Let’s take a walk, gang.”

Ben walked the long lines of Rebels, stopping to speak a few words to as many of his troops as time would permit. He stopped when he reached Tina and her contingent of Scouts.

“Move them out, girl. When the 81’s have done their bit, you link up with Dan and spearhead.”

She nodded and slipped back into the darkness, gathering her team around her.

Ben walked on, making sure that all his Rebels had their body armor on.

Corrie listened to her earphones for a moment and then turned to Ben. “General Striganov and his people have crossed the border, sir. They’re meeting heavy resistance from an unknown force.”

“Bikers?”

“Negative, sir. The general believes it’s one of those racist hate groups that have flourished since the war.”

“They flourished before the war, too. And a few of them of them had legitimate beefs against the government. Now they’ve just turned outlaw and they’re really coming out of the woodwork,” Ben muttered. “If it’s Malone’s group, they’re well armed and well trained.”

“Malone?” Beth asked.

“We go way back, Beth. Sort of a mutual hate relationship. I knew he was up in the Northwest, but I didn’t know exactly where.”

Company commanders, platoon leaders, and other Rebels had gathered around Ben, listening. Tina had paused in her pulling out to hear what her father had to say.

“Malone started out in Ohio, back in the mid-seventies, I believe. He always had a large following of fanatics. He had a few good ideas and a boxful of very bad ideas. People like Malone gave the word survivalist a bad name. Let’s make sure it is Malone then I’ll give you all a rundown on him. Move, Tina. We’re fifteen minutes behind you. Mount up, people.”

The Rebels were in position to strike an hour before daylight.

Beerbelly stared out at the darkness from behind the roadblocks. The Interstate stretched like a long silent snake before his eyes.

But it wasn’t empty, and he knew that for a ironclad fact. Rubber pads on the tracks, or not, he’d heard those damned 81mm mortar carriers come up. Beerbelly was many things: rapist, murderer, dope-head, slaveowner, but he was not a fool. Of all the bikers and outlaws, Beerbelly held a fair education in his head and was combat-experienced. He’d had listening equipment set up along the Interstate and knew what various sounds meant. “Shit!” he whispered as he crouched behind the blockades that he knew Ben Raines could, and would, roll over and squash like an egg… any damn time Raines felt like doing it.

“What’s the matter with you?” Wanda asked, crouched down beside him.

“We’re playin’ a fool’s game, Wanda. We ain’t got a snowball’s chance in Hell against Ben Raines.”

“But Snake said-was

“I don’t give a damn what Snake says. Hell, Wanda, you know the guy’s elevator don’t go all the way to the top. I been doin’ some powerful thinkin’ the last couple of days. I don’t think Snake gives a damn whether we all die or not. Whether we win or lose. Just as long as he can get a good shot at Ben Raines. His hate has him all fucked up in the head.” Beerbelly pointed a thick finger at the darkness looming before them. “You know what’s out there, Wanda?”

She shook her head. Others had gathered around, listening.

“Eighty-eight-millimeter mortars. They can toss a round something like thirty-eight hundred meters. Right behind them are the main battle tanks, armed with 105’s. And here we squat behind this pissy-assed blockade that wouldn’t stop nothin’ that Ben Raines has got.”

“Well, what the hell are we doin’ here, then?” Wanda’s voice held a shrillness that clearly gave away her fear.

Beerbelly was blunt. “Gettin’ ready to die, far as I can tell.”

“For what?” She almost shouted the question. “That’s the big question, baby.”

“That’s your big ass! Why in the hell didn’t you tell us all this before now?”

was “Cause I had to put it all together in my head first, that’s why.”

“I’m gettin” my girls and pullin’ out, Beerbelly. Like right now!”

“We’re right behind you, baby!” Beerbelly said, standing up.

“I think they’re quitting,” Dan radioed back to Ben. “They’re leaving the blockade and heading straight for my position.”

“Take them out, Dan.”

“Ten-four.”

The bikers and outlaws rode and drove straight into an ambush. The guns of Dan Gray’s Scouts sparked the still-dark early morning hour and turned the Interstate slick with blood. Beerbelly and Wanda and several other biker leaders and their followers were in the middle of the column and veered off and into the brush. That quick move saved them. But half a dozen of them died when they hit rocks and ravines and were tossed from their bikes.

They would be left there for the carrion birds and the ground scavengers.

Bullets from the Rebel guns ignited gas tanks on the downed and still spinning motorcycles, some of the tanks burning, some of them exploding.

Tina held her Scouts on the south side of the blockade, not wanting to go barging up into a free-fire zone and be mistaken for an outlaw. They began tearing down the blockade.

As dawn began brightening the western skies, Tina and her team had torn down or pushed aside the last of the blockade and were waving the mortar carriers and Dusters and battle tanks through. When the last of the heavy-tracked vehicles were through, Tina and her Scouts followed them.

“We’ll secure the airport first,” Ben radioed to his commanders. “That’s vital. Tina, you know the cutoff to the airport; it’s right up ahead off 87. Secure the airport.”

“Ten-four, Eagle.”

Beerbelly and Leadfoot and Wanda’s group had cleared the wrath of Raines’ Rebels and had pulled up in a group, shutting down their engines. They knew some of the others had made it, but just who and how many was, at this point, unknown.

To a person, they were badly shaken.

“Beerbelly,” Wanda asked, her voice betraying her fear, “what are we gonna do?”

“I been thinkin’ “bout that, too.” Beerbelly would have loved to roll a joint and toke it right down to where it blistered his fingers. But his hands were shaking so badly he had to hold on tightly to the handgrips to keep them still. He did not want any of the others to see how scared he was. “We’ll give Raines and his people plenty of time to clear the Interstate. Then we’ll jump across and take 90 east for Gillette. We’ll head north out of there and then cut northwest, try to get up to where this Malone person has his operation.”

“Malone and his kind ain’t got no love for people like me and my girls,” Wanda said glumly. “It’s either that or Ben Raines,” Beerbelly reminded her.

“In that case I reckon I could put up with a stiff dick in order to stay alive.”

“Wanna try mine just to get back in practice?” Beerbelly said with a grin.

Wanda told him where he could put his dick. And it wasn’t where Beerbelly had in mind.

Some tiny, tingling warning bell sounded in Pete’s head as he approached the blasted and shot-up town of Thermopolis. And it wasn’t the bloated and stinking bodies of Night People that did it. Even though that in itself was enough to make a buzzard puke.

“We’re taking 120,” he told Sam. “I got a bad feeling, man.”

Sam got on the CB and advised the others of what was going down.

“What the hell’s the problem, Jones?” Macationally demanded. “Other than this goddamn stinkin” town. Jesus, them bodies would gag a maggot.”

“Just a hunch, Mac. Stay with me. It would be like Raines to set up an ambush at some point along the most likely route through the mountains. You want to stay alive, don’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“All right, boys, here’s the way it’s going to be. No talking on the military radioes. We use CB’S only and only then if somebody’s got something important to say. In other words, for you rednecks and other assorted honkies, keep your damn mouths shut.” “You an uppity nigger, Jones,” Mac shot back over the airwaves. “You know that.”

“You keep telling me, Mac. You keep telling me.”

Tina’s Scouts were brought to a halt at the airport. The facility was heavily manned and the defenders were determined to hold it at all costs. MattCallahan had told them that the airport was critical to Ben Raines being resupplied and the outlaws took Matt at his word.

Nine o’clock in the morning, and after two hours of close-up fighting, the Rebels had advanced only a couple of blocks into Sheridan. Ben stood on the outskirts of the town and pondered the situation as the radios from his Rebels kept him informed.

“Still meeting heavy resistance on all fronts, General,” Corrie relayed the messages. “Tina is bogged down at the airport. She’s badly outnumbered but holding her own.”

Ben turned to Dan. “Take over here, Dan. I’ll take my team and help out at the airport. Corrie, what’s the word from Buddy.”

“They’re in position but so far it’s a no-show from the outlaws.”

Ben nodded. “Let’s go, gang.”

Ben and his teams skirted wide around getting to the airport and it still took them nearly a half hour to reach it. Matt had dug his people in deep and it was as Sarah had predicted: they were a tough bunch and they knew they were fighting to preserve a way of life.

But as tough as they were, they were not as trained or as disciplined as Raines’s Rebels, and they did not possess the firepower of the Raines’s Rebels. Like nearly all thugs and punks and bullies from the dawning of civilization, and before, the outlaws had always relied on brute strength and savagery and fear to get their way. That didn’t work with the Rebels. They could be just as savage as those they faced and fought-more so if need be.

“They’re dug in deep, Dad,” Tina radioed to Ben. “And the little terminal is filled with crud.”

“Lob some tear gas in and shoot them as they try to escape,” Ben ordered.

Rifle grenades were readied and the tear gas cannisters were fired into the terminal. The outlaws came coughing and tear-blinded out. They were coldly and unemotionally shot down in the parking lot.

“Occupy the terminal,” Ben radioed to his daughter. “I’m swinging my people around to clean out the hangers. Snipers, get in place with those fifties.”

Rebel snipers, using the Browning model 5100 sniper rifle, which is capable of extreme accuracy in excess of two thousand yards, bipodded their weapons and dug in for long-range killing. The .50 caliber projectile, even at the full one-mile range, still had over one thousand foot-pounds of punch upon impacting. And the men and women behind the 36-pound weapons possessed all the qualifications of a sniper: sharp-eyed, vulture-patient, and deadly accurate. They began taking a fearful toll on the outlaws.

“Inside the terminal,” Tina radioed. “Stinks like a boar’s nest in here.”

“Considering the caliber of people who recently exited the building,” Ben told her, “that’s being very unkind to a hog. You forward people, give the mortar crews some coordinates to work with, please.”

The range coordinates were quickly calibrated and called in. Mortar rounds began dropping in on the outlaw bunkers and one by one they were taken out. Even with the superior firepower of the Rebels, it took them nearly an hour before the airport was declared secure.

Leaving a small force at the airport, Ben and Tina took their people and moved back to the town.

“Slow going,” Dan told him. “But we’re making some headway. We’ve got a toehold. We’ve taken some prisoners. You want to talk to them?”

“Might as well. For all the good it will do me.”

“I’ve set you up a temporary CP. The prisoners are being held there. They’re a sullen, uncooperative lot.”

“They can be sullen,” Ben said, checking his .45 and returning it to leather, “but they’ll talk to me or get seriously and quickly dead.”

The outlaws might have thought Ben was bluffing. But after the second body was dragged from the building, with a .45 caliber slug between the eyes, the remaining thugs and outlaw bikers became very much aware that Ben Raines did not give a tinker’s damn about such amenities as constitutional rights, the Geneva Convention, the right to remain silent, or much of anything else except ridding the land of human crud.

They all became very talkative, all at once, each one trying to outdo the other.

Ben listened to them babble on for a few minutes and then turned them over to interrogation teams.

Picking up his Ml4, Ben walked outside and rejoined his personal team.

“What’s the word from Buddy, Corrie?”

“Still nothing, General. And he reports absolutely no chatter on the radio.”

“The bastards smelled a rat. They’re probably using low-range CB’S to communicate.” He pulled a map from the pocket of his BDU’S and studied it for a moment. “They either cut east at Shoshoni and plan to work their way north using county roadsdduntil they get past the blown bridges on the Interstate, or they took 120 out of Thermopolis and plan to come into Sheridan on 14. I doubt they’d try old 30.” He shrugged. “But who knows? Corrie, tell Buddy to come on back. We need him here.”

“What’d you get out of the prisoners?” Tina asked.

“Nothing we didn’t already know.” He looked around for Meg. She was nowhere in sight. “Corrie, tell the PU!’S to get airborne. They have the coordinates. Destroy the ranchhouse of the Snake.”

But Matt Callahan aka the Rattlesnake Kid, had seen the handwriting on the wall. He read it with bitterness on his tongue, but he read it nevertheless.

The Rattlesnake Kid was making ready to rattle his hocks.

He and his personal crew of range-wise and gun-ready hands were heading north. There would be another day to deal with Ben Raines, and he could always put together another army.

Matt swung into the saddle. “Let’s ride, boys.”

At his command post in downtown Sheridan, Satan’s radio operator looked at him and shook his head. “No use, Satan. I can’t get Snake on the horn.”

Satan spent the next few minutes giving the Rattlesnake Kid a cussing.

“What’s all that mean?” he was asked. “It means that the Snake just wiggled away and left us behind to face Raines alone. That’s what it means.” He turned around as Rowdy busted into the room.

“The guys is fallin’ back, Satan. They just can’t hold the Rebels no more. But we still got the north end of the town open.”

It took the outlaw biker only a few heartbeats to make up his mind. “Let’s ride! Tell the guys to start falling back. We’ll hold the north end open until they all get clear.”

Satan began frantically tossing a few items into a dufflebag. He looked up as his buddy, Bruiser, entered die room.

“I guess you heard the Snake turned yellow and run, huh, Satan?”

“I figured you’d run with hi caret not, Bruiser. Seein’ as how you and him is so tight.”

“Naw. We got my buddy, Pete Jones, and his bunch comin’ in, remember.”

“So?”

A frown passed the ape’s face. “You just gonna leave them to be chewed up by the Rebs?”

Satan stood up and faced the man. Satan was bigger then Bruiser, but not by much. Just uglier. “What do you want me to do, Bruiser?”

“I don’t know, man. But it ain’t right to just go off and leave our buddies.”

“Your buddies, Bruiser. Not mine. I don’t like niggers.”

“Well… I don’t neither. But I like Pete Jones.”

“That don’t make no sense, Bruiser. But very little you ever say makes much sense to me.” That bounced off Bruiser like a rubber ball. “You reckon Pete took the northern route over the mountains?”

“He may have, Bruiser. Come to think of it. The way he was movin’, he should have been here by now. All right, Bruiser, we’ll ride up to the junction and wait for an hour or so.”

“Yeah! Awright, man!” They did a little hand-slappin’ and jivin’ and then kissed each other on the mouth.

“What you gonna do with the prisoners, Satan?”

Satan’s eyes turned cruel hard. “Go kill as many as you can, Bruiser. I know how you like that.”

“Awright!”

Just as he said that, the sounds of two prop-driven planes were heard flying high over the town.

Matt Callahan pulled his men into a huge stand of timber only a few miles south of the Montana line and watched as the PU!’S began their slow circle. It took less than a minute for his fine ranchhouse to be reduced to smoking rubble.

“Too bad you kilt them boys and girls “fore we left,” a hand said to Snake. “Even though it was fun watchin” “em kick and choke. Raines could have done it for us with all that farpower.”

Snake nodded absently. “I overestimated my boys and grossly underestimated Ben Raines. I won’t make that mistake the next time we meet.”

They watched as the PU!’S made their way back south, toward Sheridan.

Snake and his now considerably smaller army turned their horses” heads toward the north. Toward the Rosebud Mountains and the Little Bighorn River.

“Do we pursue, General?” Dan radioed the question as the outlaws rode and drove frantically out of Sheridan.

“Negative. Let them go. We’ve got to sweep this town and see about any prisoners.”

It did not take the Rebels long to find one home that had been turned into a slaughterhouse by Bruiser and his submachine gun.

Ben viewed the unnecessary carnage through eyes that were flint hard. “People who would do this …” He let that statement slide, then said, “More and more I find myself agreeing with George Orwell’s pigs.”

All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.

George Orwell

“That was a good guess on your part, Bruiser,” Satan said, his bulk on the saddle of his Harley. “Yonder they come.”

“Yeah. I know some of them ol’ boys. There’s Pipes-I ain’t seen him in years. And Bass is ridin’ right behind him. Yeah, this is good.”

“How is that?”

“Them boys can fight. Like you, Satan, they’s a bunch of them saw combat in “Nam.”

“How come you didn’t, Bruiser?”

“I was in reform school. I raped a woman and broke her neck. Didn’t mean to kill her, though. I just wanted some pussy. Since I was a minor I only served three years. War was over when I got out.”

“You didn’t miss nothin”, believe me. We got to have us a sit-down, Bruiser. We’ll ride on up into Montana and then all of us can talk this thing out. We got to get some organization if we’re goin’ to fight Ben Raines and win.”

“You the boss, Satan. Whatever you say is fine with me.”

The long line of bikers and cars and pickup trucks began to stretch out as they moved north. More than a thousand thugs, punks, and trash.

Beerbelly and his bunch had safely jumped the Interstate and had barreled eastward for about an hour, turning north at Gillette. Once they crossed the line into Montana, they would continue north for a few miles, and then cut westward, hoping to link up with Satan and Pete Jones. Then they would decide what to do about Ben Raines.

“The town’s in pretty good shape,” Ben said after an hour-long ride through Sheridan. “Remarkably so.” He turned to Sarah. “You think you could convince some of those hiding out in the hills to come in and resettle this place?”

She grinned. “I’m sure of it, General. It’ll take about ten days for me to touch base with those the others will listen to.”

“Draw what you need and get ready. I’ll get a team together and have them standing by to accompany you. I won’t know how much to request from Base Camp One until I see how many people you bring in.”

“I’ll be on my way in an hour, General. You’ll be surprised how many people are out there.” She waved her hand at the vastness that lay beyond the town. “General, you’re the last hope the people have to put this country back together.”

As he watched her walk away, Ben muttered, “It certainly wasn’t a job I asked for or wanted.” Ben chose as his CP a building in the downtown part of Sheridan. He and his team cleaned up the place and set up quarters in the rooms above the first floor.

Rebels had scoured the town, searching house to house, locating several more buildings where prisoners were being held. Many of them were in pitiful shape. Those who had been held the longest sat in stunned silence, hollow-eyed and staring vacantly at nothing, unable to comprehend the fact that they were finally free from their captors.

“Will the doctors back at the base be able to bring them out of their … I don’t know what to call it,” Meg said to Ben. “Condition?”

“Some of them, yes. Healing the mind is a long, slow process. Many of them will always be as you see them now. After suffering so long their minds simply shut down. The human defense mechanism, I suppose. All the doctors can do is try, Meg.”

“And you believe that the fault of their being captured lies, to some degree on their own heads, don’t you, General?” There was an odd glint to her eyes that Ben didn’t understand.

“Yes, I do, Meg. As you say, to some degree. Lone wolfing it is fine, if one has the mental conditioning to survive. A lot of people don’t. Especially the older ones who grew up in society where they were constantly being bombarded by TV commentators and so-called intellectuals who told them the use of force was wrong in defending home, loved ones, or self.” Ben shut his mouth and smiled. “Don’t get me wound up, Meg. I’ll bore you to tears with a speech about liberals and their ilk.” “You’re forgetting that I grew up in California, General. We had a neighbor who killed a rattlesnake in his back yard-with one of those so-called terrible handguns. The police arrested him and took him to jail for discharging a weapon within the city limits.”

“Exactly what I’m talking about, Meg.”

“You’re missing the point. It didn’t take me long to learn to shoot first and ask questions later. Why me and not these people?” She pointed to the hospital where the freed prisoners had been taken.

“Probably, Meg, your father-back in his more lucid days-raised you to stand alone. I would imagine that every time one of those anti-gunstanti-use-of-force messages came on the TV, Matt would tell you it was all a bunch of crap. Which it was. That had a lot to do with it.”

She nodded her agreement. “What about that large gathering of men on horseback that the pilots of the PU!’S reported seeing?”

Buddy said the ranchhouse Matt was using as his headquarters was deserted except for those poor unfortunates they found strangled to death in the basement. Matt took his hardcases and headed for the wilderness.”

“You know where he went, don’t you, General.”

Ben sighed. “I have a pretty good idea, Meg. From all indications he was heading for the Rosebud Mountains. Where Custer made his last stand.”

“He wants you to come after him, you realize that, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes. The Rattlesnake Kid wants to face Slim in a stand-up, shoot-“em-out gunfight. I’m going to disappoint him, Meg.” “You’re going to let him go?” Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened into a thin line.

“For the time being, yes. His army is scattered and Matt poses no immediate threat to us now. I’ll eventually have to deal with him, but not now. Not unless he forces the issue.”

“He will if he gets a chance.”

Ben shrugged. “That’s his problem, Meg. But if he thinks I’m going to strap on a pair of hoglegs and face him in some sort of a quick-draw affair, he’s not only crazy, he’s stupid.”

Meg studied Ben’s face. “You’d better track him down and kill him now, General. I know the man far better than you. He’ll never give up.”

“I’m aware of that. But I’m not about to commit troops and send them searching all over the Rosebud Mountains. It’d be like looking for that needle in the haystack. Matt will have to wait.”

The Rebels went to work in Sheridan, cleaning up the town and tearing down those buildings they felt could not be used.

Communications reported that Ashley and his group had veered north, apparently heading for Malone and his people, rather than try to launch an offensive against Ben-at this time.

Striganov and his Russian-French Canadian forces were holding their own against Malone, but making no progress in their attempts to move south. Ben knew he was going to have to head north to aid Striganov, but he didn’t want to leave Sheridan until Sarah had rounded up enough people to defend the place. And Cecil had radioed from Base Camp One that Kahmsin had made his way back to South Carolina and regrouped what was left of his shattered army.

Ike was champing at the bit to head for South Carolina and once and for all wipe Khamsin from the face of the earth.

“Negative, Ike,” Ben had told him. “The Hot Wind is nothing more than a slight breeze now. I might need you and your battalion up here with me before this mess is over. Just stay put and be ready to go.”

Sarah and the team of Rebels Ben had sent with her had rounded up more than five hundred people by the end of ten days. And from all indications, they were a tough and resourceful lot, just the types Ben was looking for to resettle the outposts. Among them were a dozen doctors and dentists and nurses.

Ben radioed Cecil and told him to get the requested equipment on the way to Sheridan. The town was once more on the map.

Ben was studying maps when Dan entered his office.

“You wanted to see me, General?”

“Get the people ready to pull out, Dan. We’ve done what we can here in Sheridan. It’s up to the settlers now. We’ve got to head north and give Georgi and his people a hand.”

“I can have them ready to go in the morning.”

“Then that’s when we’ll pull out.”

Ben walked to a wall map. “The lines have shifted. Last reports state the main concentration of fighting is centered along this line, between Cut Bank and Harve. And that’s a hell of a lot of territory.”

“Malone must have quite an army,” Dan said, studying the more than one-hundred-mile-long battlefront.

“Obviously. And when Ashley and Voleta and the various bikers and outlaws link up with him …” Ben let that trail off.

“Yes,” the Englishman picked it up. “And if we get careless and let them put us in a box, we could be in serious trouble.”

Ben nodded. “This time we’re really outgunned. We’re going to have to go into this fight with a root-hog or die mentality. Saving towns and cities for future use as outposts will have to be put on the back burner during this push north. Since we’re going to be so badly outnumbered during this campaign, we’ll have to make up for it by using every ounce of firepower we have. And Striganov says Malone has mortars and heavy machine guns. But no tanks or long-range artillery.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” Dan said drily. “We’ve spent the past three years scouring the country, hauling in every tank we could find.”

Ben grinned. “And we’ve stripped for parts the ones we didn’t haul in. We’ve got ten tanks for every qualified driver.” i

“When will the reinforcements arrive?”

“I started them moving exactly one week ago. They should be arriving any day. With the addition of the vehicle-drawn 105’s and the tanks, we’ll give Malone some new headaches. I plan to have the added tanks lay back, protecting our rear. Get the people geared up, Dan. We move out in the morning. We’ll advance to Hardin and secure that town. By the time we’re through there, the new equipment should have reached us and we’ll start our push north to take some pressure off of Georgi and his people.”

Dan was studying the map. “Miles City?”

“Will have to wait until we’re finished up north.”

“We’ll be passing right by the old Custer Battlefield site. Do you anticipate an attack by Matt and what is left of his army?”

“I’m not going to give him a chance, Dan. We’re going to be moving as fast as the roads will allow us. Your Scouts report the Interstate is in good shape, and they have seen nothing of Matt or his people. There hasn’t been a shot fired at them. We’ll deal with Matt when we’ve finished with Malone.”

“Spearheading?”

“Tina. Have her take command of those Scouts already north of us, and move out today. She’ll stop on the outskirts of Hardin. And assign a Duster to her just in case. I can’t believe Malone is going to just let us come up behind him unopposed.”

“He may be having his hands full with General Striganov.”

“Georgi will damn sure give him all he can handle; bet on that. I’d like to think if we hit Malone fast and hard, we can settle this quickly. But something tells me this is going to be a long campaign.”

“I’m afraid you’re right.” Dan seemed reluctant to leave. As if he had something on his mind and didn’t quite know how to say it.

Ben helped him along. “Spit it out, Dan. What’s eating at you?” “Very well, General. Do you trust Meg Callahan?”

Ben hesitated. “I don’t know, Dan. It just doesn’t seem reasonable that a very attractive woman, kidnapped by outlaw bikers, was not raped by them. And Dr. Ling was emphatic on that point. I’ve toyed with the idea that my so-called assassination attempt back in Shreveport was all rigged.”

“With Meg to be planted within the Rebels.” Dan did not present his remark as a question.

“Yes. But to do what? Kill me? Hell, Dan, she’s had ample opportunities to do that. What has she done to arouse your suspicions?”

“She’s just too smooth, General. Everything that comes out of her mouth is too pat. It’s almost as if she’s been rehearsed.”

“By whom? Her father? She’s managed to convince nearly everybody that she genuinely despises Matt.”

“But not you?”

“I don’t know,” Ben said softly. “But I do sense that something is out of kilter with Meg. Go on, Dan.”

“General, you’ve seen the caliber of people we’ve been facing. Do you believe that type of scum would allow a lovely young lady to live undisturbed within arm’s reach of them for a couple of years, as Meg claims?”

“It doesn’t seem reasonable. And if her father sexually abused her as a child, as she claimed, why would he not do the same as an adult?”

“That thought entered my mind as well.”

“And she’s been gently pushing at me to attack Matt in the Rosebuds. Our interrogation teams back at Base Camp One have not been able to corroborate our suspicions by questioning of the biker women, however.”

“They might not have had prior knowledge. Although that seems a bit unlikely. I think it’s just because they’re very tough women and hard to break.”

Ben nodded and stepped into the radio room, telling Corrie to get Base Camp One on the horn and tell them to start using drugs on the biker women; find out what they can about Meg Callahan.

“No!” Ben suddenly said. “Ten-twenty-two those orders, Corrie.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ben slowly turned to face Dan. “I don’t think she’s in cahoots with Matt. I think she really wants to see her father dead.”

Dan spread his hands, while confusion filled his face. “She certainly says she does. But if she isn’t working for her father? Then?”

“Dan, you were there in Shreveport when I spoke with Meg for the first time. She mentioned that survivalist group that her father shared power with. And she mentioned that they did not get along. That somebody had to have been Malone.”

“Yes, I remember, and I agree.” Dan was thoughtful for a moment and then he smiled. “Ahh, yes. Now I am beginning to see.”

“She wants to see both Matt and me killed. If money was worth a damn, I’d bet you that she takes her orders from Malone.” “So we do what, Father?” Buddy asked.

Ben had called a gathering of Buddy and Tina, Dan, Dr. Ling, and his company commanders.

“We watch her. We have nothing but suspicions. We have absolutely no solid proof. I’m just going to play this by ear and be careful.”

“Oh, quite,” Dan said, giving Cooper, Jersey, Beth, and Corrie a glance. They got the message.

The eye contact did not escape Ben, but he said nothing about it.

“Do you want me to switch her ammo?” Buddy asked. “Substitute blanks for real?”

“No. As I said, we have zero proof that she has done anything wrong. It may just be that I’m getting paranoid.”

“That we are becoming paranoid,” Dan corrected.

“That’s it, people. Tina, you all set to go?”

“Sittin” on ready.”

“Take off. Follow the Duster and we’ll see you in Hardin maybe late tomorrow. For sure in a couple of days.”

Tina waved and left the room.

“Let’s start packing it up, people,” Ben said.

The Rebels rolled out of Sheridan just as dawn was spreading light over the valley. The extra tanks and artillery that Ben had requested from Base Camp One were a day behind them and coming hard.

Ben pushed his people hard and they made Hardin by dusk of the first day out, driving right through the area where Ben thought Matt was hiding. But if Matt Callahan thought Ben was going to waste his time hunting him, the Rattlesnake Kid was sorely disappointed.

Tina had radioed back that Hardin was a ghost town.

During the noon break, Sarah had said, “The people are all along the Yellowstone. When the outlaws came, many of them left the towns for the country.”

“We don’t have time to contact them now,” Ben said. “After we deal with Mr. Malone, then we can backtrack.”

“Meg appears to be a bit edgy this evening,” Dan said, walking up to Ben, two packages of cold rations in his hands. He handed one to Ben.

“Does she now? It wouldn’t break my heart if she were to desert.”

“Nor mine.”

The men sat down on a curb and opened their field ration packs, the contents all carefully mixed under the eagle eye of Dr. Chase, ensuring the troops the correct amounts of vitamins and fiber and nutrients and with all the taste of a tennis shoe.

All the Rebels carried small bottles of hot sauce around with them to slop generously on their field rations. Ben requisitioned homemade hot sauce by the hundred-case lot.

“Are you sure Chase retired from the Navy, or they forced him out before those in his command mutinied?” Dan asked, looking with distain at the goop he had dumped into his mess kit.

Dan gave the paper to Chester to lick and the dog took one smell and carried it off and buried it, returning to sit by Dan’s side.

“That has to tell us something,” Dan remarked as he scratched the small animal behind the ears.

The next morning, Ben held up the column while Tina and her Scouts checked out Billings. He took that time to radio back to Louisiana and tell Cecil to start sending up tins of meat and dried beans and sacks of rice and potatoes. And if Chase had the nerve to send along any of his nutritious field ration goop, have the pilots dump it into the first swamp they flew over.

“What’s the matter, old hoss?” Cecil said with a laugh, knowing perfectly well what the matter was.

“Very funny. And send along a case of vitamins for us to take. I’d rather take a pill than eat any more of Lamar’s concoctions.”

Cecil was still laughing when Ben broke the connection.

Ben stopped smiling when Dan stepped into the tent and said, “Tina reports Billings is filled with creepies, General.” “Here we go again, Dan. All right. We’ll hold up here and wait for the extra tanks and artillery.”

“And if they’re holding prisoners, sir?”

Ben sighed, remembering the sign that President Harry Truman had on his desk. THE BUCK STOPS HERE. Ben knew only too well what that sign meant.

Ben hand-rolled a cigarette, taking that time to weigh his options-and they were few. “We’ll hope they will survive the shelling,” he said, knowing he was sealing the fates of many, but having no other choice.

“If it helps,” Dan said, “I would have made the same decision.”

The main battle tanks and the vehicle-drawn 105’s joined the column the next afternoon and Ben gave everybody an extra day to rest before beginning the attack on Billings. The vehicle-drawn 105’s had a range of about ten miles, or slightly farther, depending upon the type of shells used.

Ben laid out the plans, and they involved the splitting of his command.

“Ramos, take your A Company along with your assigned 105’s and approach Billings from the southeast, on this old secondary road. Brad, you and B Company will cross the Yellowstone here”-he pointed to a map-“and assault the city from the north. Anderson, you and Charlie Company will lay back on the Interstate and drop in your rounds from the east side. I’ll take Captain Tony and Dog Company and swing wide, coming up on the Interstate west of the city. Buddy, you and your Rat Team will secure the airport.” Ben sighed and minutely shook his head. “We’ll start the bombardment at oh-six-hundred tomorrow, using Willie Peter and incendiary. That’s it, people.”

The smell emanating from the city was strong even to those Rebels several miles away as they waited and glanced at their watches. It was the unmistakable smell of rotting flesh and death.

The hands on their watches straight-lined and Ben’s voice came over the speakers. “Fire!”

Billings, the city on the Yellowstone River, founded back in 1882 by the Northern Pacific Railroad, began to reel under the bombardment from Rebel gunners.

Buddy and his Rat Team hit the airport coming off Black Otter Trail, and they struck hard, with a cold, fighting fury. Rebels did not take prisoners of Night P. Attempts to do so had invariably and consistently failed miserably, almost always resulting in the death of those Rebels who tried to extend the olive branch of peace to the creepies.

The cannabalistic Night People were shot down upon sighting, with the wounded receiving a bullet to the head. Orders of Ben Raines.

The earth-shattering pounding continued until eight o’clock. By that time, the city was burning, black smoke twisting like mortally wounded snakes into the big skies of Montana.

“Shut it down,” Ben said to Corrie.

Corrie relayed the orders and the guns fell silent.

“Snipers in position,” Ben instructed.

Rebel snipers, armed with .5-caliber rifles, slipped into position and waited. “Airport secured, sir,” Corrie told him. “Buddy is clearing a runway now.”

“Approximate time for clearing?”

“Two hours.”

“Advise the communcations truck to notify Base Camp One of that.”

“Advance teams into the city, sir?”

“Negative. All units hold their positions. We won’t enter the city until tomorrow at the earliest. Move Tina and her team to the airport for security.”

“Colonel Gray has a few freed prisoners that came out of the north end of the city.”

“Take them to the airport. Advise Dr. Ling to move a medical team over there. Tell Buddy to prepare to receive freed prisoners. Put them in a hanger.”

Sniper rifles began cracking as robed Night People began staggering out of the burning city in a futile attempt to escape the inferno. They left the flames behind them in exchange for a bullet.

The Rebels maintained their positions all that day as the city slowly began to burn itself out. The flames leaped into the night skies, dancing macabre ballets before sparking and vanishing into the darkness.

The breeze picked up, bringing with it a moist touch. Ben awakened once during the night, as a soft rain began falling. The rain picked up in intensity as thunderstorms began rolling through, dousing the land and gradually putting out the most savage of the fires that had devoured Billings.

When Ben stepped out of his tent that morning, the fires were still burning, but the most intense had burned themselves out. The thunderstorms had lashed out their fury and drifted on; the early predawn skies were pocked with stars as Ben walked to the coffee truck.

Coffee mug in hand, he leaned against the dew-covered fender of a deuce and a half and sipped and watched as his team drew coffee and walked to him.

“The spare planes will be leaving Sheridan at dawn,” Corrie informed him. “The resupply birds from Base Camp One left at midnight. ETA here is approximately ten hundred hours.”

“We will not enter what is left of Billings,” Ben said. He had already studied a map and knew where they were going and how they would get there. “Make sure all units understand those orders. When the birds have come and gone, we’ll pull out. Advise all units to begin concentrating along Highway 3, just off the airport. Tell Tina to get her team ready to roll and check out Highway 3. She is to wait for us at Lavina. That is approximately fifty miles north of our present location, at the junction of Highway 3 and

12.”

 

Ben turned his back to the dead and smoking city and walked back to his tent to pack. If he had to adpot a scorched-earth policy in order to rid the land of outlaws and scum and Night People, so be it. Regrets, if any, he could deal with later.

“You killed about a hundred prisoners!” the woman screamed at Ben. “Murderer!”

Ben stood at the edge of the tarmac of the airport and listened to her tirade, his face expressionless. She cursed him until she was breathless. “What would you have had me do, madam?” he asked.

“Free us!”

“Madam, you are free.”

“But many of my friends are dead! Thanks to your callousness.”

Ben stared down at the woman, her clothing no more than rags, and with her face baering the marks of recent beatings. He knew he should just turn his back and walk away; knew it was pointless to stand and argue with her. But with Ben Raines being what he was, he wasn’ t about to do anything like that.

Ben pointed toward the smoking ruins of the city. “Madam, how far away do you think you were from being served up as dinner to some of those loathe-some creatures who were holding you captive?”

“I don’t know! That isn’t the point. You could have attacked the city with your army and saved us all.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m beginning to wonder if you were even worth saving.”

“You can’t talk to her in that manner!” a man said, stepping away from the hanger and walking to the woman’s side.

Ben blinked. “Now, just who in the hell are you?”

“I am her friend.”

“Well, friend, you best carry your ass back inside that hanger before you get on the wrong side of me. And I might point out that your mouth is awfully close to getting you there.”

The woman opened her mouth and the man said, “Sybil, let me handle this. General Raines, we are not ungrateful for being plucked from the hands of those dreadful creatures. But it is distressing that more than half of our group was killed by the bombings and the fires that followed.”

“Your … group. All of you were from the same group?”

“Oh, quite. We are-were-all from the same scientific organization.”

“And that would be … ?”

“Peace without violence.”

Ben sighed. “And how long has this organization been around?”

“Only recently. I would say about six months. We all felt we could reason with those poor unfortunates who have turned to a life of crime and violence.”

“Poor … unfortunates?”

“Q.”

“Ah-yeah! Right. And some of those “poor unfortunates” came along, grabbed you up, and swapped you to the Night People, right?”

“Well… yes. But that doesn’t mean that our plan won’t work with some other group, at some other place and time.”

“Ah… you mean you want to try again?”

“Oh, my, yes.”

“Do you want us to arm you?”

“Oh, no, General. Indeed not. We do not require arms to exist. We are vegetarians, so we don’t have to kill for food.”

“I wasn’t talking about hunting, mister … whatever your name is.”

“Morris Deason. Oh, I see what you mean. Oh, no. We don’t want arms. If we do come upon some ruffians, I feel we can convince them that we are peaceful and mean them no harm.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yes.”

In a pig’s ass, Ben thought. “Well, I wish you lots of luck, Mr. Deason.” “Cause you’re sure going to need it, he silently added. “Can we, ah, drop you and your group off somewhere?”

“That’s very kind of you, General, but no. We must first bury our dead and then take a vote as to where we will relocate.”

“I would suggest that you don’t go north.”

“Oh?”

“That’s where we’re going.”

“To kill more innocent people?” Sybil asked, enough venom in her voice to kill an ox.

Ben glanced at her and then deliberately turned his back. “Dan, see to their needs. You can be much more diplomatic than I.” He walked away.

“Murderer!” Sybil screamed after him. The Rebels saw no signs of human life on the way to Lavina, and when they reached the small town, there was nothing left of Lavina.

The tiny town and its few buildings were no more than piles of charred rubble.

Ben ordered Tina and her Scouts out toward Harlowton. As they drove Highway 12, which was in surprisingly good shape, they followed the Mussel-shell River, flowing on the south side of the highway. The lack of any sighting of human life was beginning to be depressing to all of them. Beth said as much.

“They’re out there,” Ben told her. “Some of them probably watching us right now. They know what we are, they just don’t know who we are.”

“Maybe I ought to get a brush and a can of paint,” Cooper said with a grin. “Start painting your name on all the vehicles. General Ben Raines and the Rebels. Enlistees please fall in at the rear of the column.” Tina’s voice coming out of the speaker cut the laughter short. “Far Out Scout to Eagle.”

“Go ahead, Tina.”

“Got a few people outside of Harlowton you might like to speak with.”

“Ten-four. We’re about half an hour away.”

“We been down around Lake Lebo,” the man told Ben, after shaking his hand. “We had us a pretty good little beginning here in Harlowton until that goddamned Malone and his people showed up. They hit us hard one afternoon. Killed about a hundred. All we could do was grab what we could and run like hell.”

Ben had studied a map and liked what he saw about this area of Montana. “Is there an airstrip in this town?”

“If you want to call it that. I reckon we could clean it up. But it can’t handle nothing big.”

“Twin-engine prop cargo planes?”

“Oh, yes, sir.”

The man’s name was Jim Tower and he was the sterotype Western man. Tanned faced, lean-hipped, and looked tough enough to handle double just about anything that came his way.

“You’ve heard about the outposts I’m setting up, Jim?”

“We still got pretty good radio equipment, yes, sir.”

“You game for running an outpost here?”

Jim smiled. “You just try me, Ben Raines.”

Ben halted the column at Harlowton and sent word to Cecil to start rounding up more settlers and equipment. On the morning of the second day, he spread a map out on the hood of a Jeep.

“Here’s what I have in mind, Jim. Down south, Sheridan, Hardin, Miles City. Up here, Roundup, Harlowton, Lewiston. Eventually, if I live long enough, I plan to have anywhere from six to twelve outposts in every state in this battered country. It isn’t going to be like the old days, Jim. It’s going to be run just like the Tri-States. No handouts, no free rides, justice comes down hard and swift and, in many cases, final. It’s going to smack of autocracy, but until we get a grip on this nation, that’s the way-in my opinion-it’s going to have to be.”

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you, Ben?”

“What do you know about the present inhabitants of Lewistown-if any?”

“Trash. Outlaws. Scum. But there used to be a pretty fair little airport there.”

“All right. Jim, you begin getting your people settled in back here. Lewiston is close enough to the battlelines to serve as our depot and as a jumping-off place for us. We’ll bring the birds in there.” He glanced at Corrie. “Let’s go clean it out.”

Ben left Jim and his people well armed and well supplied. He also left behind as squad of Rebels, with mortars and heavy machine guns, just in case those outlaws Ben knew were still tagging along somewhere behind him decided to hit the town.

“We want Lewistown taken intact,” he told his people. “It’s small enough for us to do that. The airport is on the south side of the town; that’s another reason we want to use it for a depot. When things start looking in our favor, we can always shift the operation elsewhere. But not Great Falls. Jim says it’s full of creepies. And Corrie, tell the PU!’S down at Sheridan to stand by. I want Lewistown cleaned out by this time tomorrow. Let’s go!”

Ben and the Rebels were knocking on the outskirts of Lewistown at dawn the next morning.

Standing between two rumbling main battle tanks, Ben lifted powerful binoculars and looked over the scene. What he saw was a bunch of unshaven and dirty crud armed mostly with hunting rifles and pistols, staring back at him from behind crude roadblocks.

“Dan, use loudspeakers and tell those men to lay down their arms and stand aside if they want to live to see tomorrow.”

Dan relayed the message, the cold, hard words hurled electronically over the short distance.

The outlaws” reply was expected. A volley of gunfire erupted from the edge of town, the bullets wanging and howling off the armor of the tanks.

Ben lifted his walkie-talkie. “Let’s show them that we have just a tad more firepower than they, people. About a minute’s worth should be convincing enough.”

Ten tanks opened up with .50 caliber and 7.62 machine gun fire. Big Thumpers began roaring. And the Dusters opened up with 40mm cannon fire just as mortar crews began laying down patterns.

The roadblock had been rusted-out old cars and trucks and concrete blocks and sandbags spread along a five-hundred-foot line.

When Ben ordered the firing stopped, there were great gaps blown into the blockades. Vehicles and nearby buildings were burning, and bodies lay sprawled in bloody heaps all along the line.

Ben looked at Dan. “Dan, tell them we are a very understanding group of people… but not very patient. So if they want to live, they had best lay down their weapons and stand aside.”

Bedsheets and pillowcases and handkerchiefs and T-shirts began waving in surrender from that part of the town that was visible to the Rebels.

“That’s better,” Ben said. “I do so enjoy dealing with reasonable people.”

Tina and Buddy looked at their father and rolled their eyes.

“Take your Scouts in, Dan.”

Lewistown was in Rebel hands.

They numbered just over two hundred and they were a scabby-looking lot. Ben walked up and down the line, looking at the men and women, disgust evident on his face. He could see fleas jumping about on all of them.

Chester sat on the front seat in Dan’s Jeep, not wanting to get too close to the prisoners.

“You ain’t got no right to come a-bustin’ up in here and jist take over!” one mouthy man popped off to Ben.

Ben surprised the entire group by saying, “You’re quite correct. I have no right to do that. But we did it. Now the immediate problem facing us is this: what are we going to do with you?”

“I be your woman, General!” a not-unattractive female called from the lines.

Ben looked at her. “Madam, I wouldn’t touch you with a sterilized crowbar.”

She glared hate at him.

“I can do all sorts of happy things for a sweetie like you,” a man simpered, batting his eyes at Ben.

Ben shuddered and tried to ignore the laughter from Tina and Buddy.

Not accustomed to taking prisoners, Dan walked up to Ben and whispered, “What in the world are we going to with them?”

“I haven’t the foggiest notion, Dan. Lock them all down and get Jim Tower up here. We’ll dispose of the murderers and rapists and so forth; try to talk to the others.”

“Paul Simpson”-Jim Tower pointed him out- “he’s the so-called leader of this pack of filth. He’s a cold-blooded killer.” His eyes turned flint hard. “He killed my mother and father just after the bombs came … just for the fun of it.”

“I shore liked the way they hollered and begged “fore I kilt ‘em, you pussy!” Simpson shouted at him. He spat at Jim. “You ain’t got the guts to do nothin” to me, you puke.”

Jim did not reply. He reached into the back of his pickup and took out a coil of rope and began building a noose.

Ben backed away. “You’re in charge here, Jim. Salvage the ones you think have any decency left in them … do what you want to with the rest of them.”

Paul Simpson and twenty-one others of Paul’s gang were hanged that morning. No one among Jim’s group could positively state that any of the others had ever killed or raped or terrorized-although all knew they had,

“What the hell do we do with the rest of them?” Jim asked.

“That’s a problem we face all over the country,” Ben replied. “But I am certainly glad I have someone else to help make those hard decisions.”

“Who?”

“You,” Ben said with a smile.

In the end, Jim turned the others loose, unarmed, andwitha warning that if they ever showed their faces in any area of the country that he and the Rebels controlled, they would be shot on sight.

“That ain’t fair!” a woman said. “Wedin’t haveno choice in the matter.”

“That’s crap!” Jim spat the words. “No one forced you to follow Paul Simpson. You could have done what the rest of us did: live as decently as possible, plant gardens, open schools, try to pull this country back together.”

She sneered and spat at him, verbally hanging several uncomplimentary titles on him.

“If you’re in my sight one minute from now,” Jim warned, slowly pulling a pistol from leather, “I’ll kill you.”

The freed outlaws and their followers scattered, most leaving at a run. Ben looked at Jim Tower. There was not a doubt in his mind but that Jim would have killed the woman had she pressed her luck. Ben had made another good choice in picking people to help lead the nation out of the ashes of devastation and near hopelessness. It was a hard time-much harder than the opening and winning of the West a century and a half back-for those earlier pioneers, many of them, at least, once the mountain men had blazed the way, had the support of friends and family back East, and in many cases, the Army was there to help out.

Not so now. Now there was no one to turn to for help. Now the help had to come from within, and it would take hard men and women to reclaim the land and enforce the few laws that Ben would hold over from the old system.

Yes, Jim Tower and men like him would make it work. Ben had met Jim’s wife, and had been impressed by her. She had worked right by her husband’s side, both of them sharing equally in the seeing to it that the kids in their group had at least some schooling every day, the planting and harvesting of small gardens … and in the day-to-day struggle to survive in a land gone hostile.

The light in that long, long tunnel shone just a bit brighter. The end was still years away, and Ben doubted that he would ever live to see it. But it was comforting to know that now they could at least see the light.

Ben drove around to the airport. It could handle the Rebels’ twin-engine cargo planes with no problem.

Ben walked to the communications truck to talk directly with Cecil and Ike.

“I’m going to make Lewistown my jumping-off pint, Cec. From here, the supplies can be trucked up to Fort Benton. That’s going to be about fifty miles south of the present battle lines. Great Falls is out; it’s full of creepies, or so I’ve been told. I don’t have the time to check it out now.”

“You want me to get some trucks rolling up there, Ben?”

“That’s ten-fifty, Cec. Jim Tower, the man who will be in charge of this section once we’re gone, tells me there are plenty of vehicles in this area to more than adequately do the job. If I can pull it off, by that I mean keeping the towns intact, I’d like to have the other triangle of outposts be Fort Benton, Shelby, and Harve.”

“You going to need some help up there.”

Ben hesitated. “I… don’t know yet, Cec. I just don’t know what I’m up against. If I need help, it’ll be West and his men, I’m thinking. We’re beginning to spread ourselves pretty damned thin leaving troops behind at every outpost.”

“Ike is not going to like that.”

“Ike is needed where he is and Ike knows it. He’s got to stay there and see to the training of new personnel. And speaking of that, how’s it look?”

“Fantastic, Ben. We’ll be able to field another battalion in a few months. Ben, I believe, by God, we’re really going to pull this thing off!”

Ben paused before keying the mike and replying. So the feeling or sensation of victory was that infectious. “Years of hard fighting ahead of us, Cec.”

“I’m champing at the bit to get back into the field, Ben.”

“How’s Patrice, Cec?” Ben brought his friend back down to earth.

Cec sighed. “Right, Ben. And Ike has a family to look after. So you’re telling me that you’re in the field and we’re back here.”

“That’s it. I’m doing what I do best, Cec. And I have nothing to bring me back there.”

“And no one, you think,” Cec added.

Ben said nothing. Damned if he was going to discuss Jerre. Only he and Jerre knew the cold hopeless depths of their strange relationship.

“You still there, Eagle?”

“Right here, Cec.”

“What do you need, Ben?”

“Sharpen your pencil, Cec. It’s going to be a long list.” The supplies began coming in around the clock. Using portable generators, the Rebels lighted the runway and kept the small airport going twenty-four hours a day.

Ben had spoken to General Georgi Striganov several times since arriving in Lewistown, and the Russian’s situation was getting grimmer with each radio transmission. Malone seemed to have what appeared to be an inexhaustable supply of men-kill one and two took his place.

“All right, Georgi,” Ben radioed his onetime enemy and now close friend. “I’ve got my CP set up in Fort Benton and we’re ready to strike. Start shifting your troops. I’ll take everything east of Highway 223 to Harve. You take everything west of 223 to Cut Bank.”

“That’s ten-four, Ben. And be alert. We captured several who stated a large group of outlaws are moving up Highway 89 to attack you from the rear.”

“That would be Pete Jones and his bunch.” “That is correct. He has perhaps a thousand men with him. The numbers vary with each man we interrogate.”

“Any intel on Ashley and his bunch?”

“We’ve lost them. I personally believe they plan to attack from the north and try to box us in.”

“How are your supplies?”

“More than adequate. We have factories in Alberta and Saskatchewan working around the clock. It’s the sheer numbers of Malone’s army that are threatening to overwhelm us.”

“We’re on the way, friend.”

“Looking forward to seeing you again, Ben.”

Ben ended the transmission and glanced up at Dan. “Take Tina and her section, and Companies C and D. You’ll head up 87 to Harve. I’ll take Companies A and B and head up 223 to Chester.”

“Meg Callahan?” he questioned.

“I’ll take her with me. It will be interesting to see her reaction when we get to the front.”

“You watch your back, Ben.”

“Don’t worry,” Ben assured him. “I think Meg began to suspect she was under observation some miles back.”

Dan stuck out his hand and Ben took it. “Nut cuttin’ time, Dan,” he said with a grin.

The Englishman faked a grimace. “What marvelous expressions you Americans have.”

Fort Benton had been turned into a staging area. It was from here that supplies would be trucked to the battlelines. And just moments before Ben and Dan were to jump off, forward recon teams radioed back the grim news.

Corrie broke it to Ben. “We’re looking at four or five thousand men, General. Well armed and well trained and seeming to be highly dedicated and motivated.”

Ben took it stoically. “It doesn’t surprise me. These are second-generation race-haters. Their mothers and fathers belonged to every hate group known to mankind back in die seventies and eighties. They’ve had twenty-five years to fine-tune their hate. Motivated? Oh, yes. I can believe that. The sad thing is, the government-back when there was a government-helped them fuel their hate.” Ben was very conscious of Meg’s hot eyes on him. It was not a very comfortable sensation.

“Whenever the government singles out so-called minority groups and helps them over the majority,” Meg said, “there is certain to be resentment. The government should have stayed out of the private lives of white people.”

Ben sighed heavily. There it was. “Your first statement has a ring of truth to it, Meg. Your last statement smacks of racism. But we put your personal puzzle together some days ago.”

“I felt that the game was just about over,” she admitted.

Beth took the weapons from the daughter of Matt Callahan while the muzzle of Jersey’s M16 was pressed against the woman’s belly.

“You going to kill me, General Raines?” Meg asked.

“No. You may be salvageable, Meg. We’ll just have to wait and see about that.”

“You’re living in a dream world, Ben Raines. Are you even aware of why you and your Rebels can mix the races and get along?”

“You tell me, Meg.”

“Because you’ve got the cream of the crop, that’s why. A cottonpatch nigger or welfare-raised slope or greaser wouldn’t last a day in this organization. Hell, they don’t have the mental capabilities to pass your goddamned tests, so consequently they don’t try.”

“People of any race who do not meet our requirements are not accepted,” Ben admitted. “But that doesn’t mean we wash them out and forget them. You’re only half right in your thinking, Meg.”

She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her green eyes. “What do you mean, General?”

“Those who don’t make it on the first try are not tossed to one side and forgotten, Meg. We have the finest schools in all the world. There is no limit to the number of times a person may try to join us. Sometimes a man or women is just sized up by a Rebel and admitted into our ranks and accepted without question. If there are any doubts, they’re sent to school and evaluated. We don’t distrust or dislike people because of race, Meg. It’s concepts and ideas that contradict ours that we’re wary of.”

She opened her mouth to argue and Ben waved her silent. He turned to several Rebels. “Lock her down in the old jail and keep her under guard.”

He watched as Meg was led away. She offered no resistance, knowing the Rebels would not hesitate to shoot her. “Corrie, give base a bump. Tell Cecil to get West and his people up here by bird. Land at Lewistown.” “Do we push on, General?” Dan asked.

“Yes. Get your troops moving. Let’s go, people.”

They met their first resistance twenty miles outside of Fort Benton and it was a stiff attack by disciplined and well-armed troops of the survivalist Malone’s army.

The two sides slugged it out for over an hour until Ben’s superior firepower finally drove the racist survivalists back. But they retreated grudgingly, fighting all the way, not giving up one inch of ground easily.

In his command post in the town of Conrad, Malone listened to the field reports coming in.

“Root hog or die time,” Malone said to the men gathered around him. “Raines; doesn’t give up. And don’t sell his Rebels short. They may be a mixture of niggers and other inferiors, but they can fight, and fight damn well.” Malone stood up and walked to a wall map. He was stocky, and in excellent physical shape, as were all the men who were members of his organization. Malone’s hair was peppered with gray. He was the same age as Ben, and had hated the man for years. No particular reason was outstanding in his hatred; Malone just didn’t like anybody who had anything to do with those he considered inferior … and that included anybody who was not white, Anglo-Saxon, and Protestant.

Malone considered himself to be a very religious and God-fearing man. He could point to passages in the Bible which he interpreted to read that all nonwhites were inferior. So were Jews and Catholics and so on and so forth. Malone did not smoke, did not drink, did not consort with loose women-he’d been married for years-and only rarely cursed.

When he did curse it was almost always directed at either some inferior … or Ben Raines.

Back when civilization was the rule rather than the exception, Malone was always organizing some book-burning or book-censoring event. And anyone who did not agree with his whacked-out views was a “damn hairy hippie commie pinko Godless queer!”

Either that or they worked for some national network news team and everybody knew those types couldn’t be trusted. Bunch of damned left-leaning liberal punks.

“Where is that pack of hoodlums that is supposed to be joining up with us in this fight?” Malone asked.

“Between Helena and Great Falls the last report,” he was informed. “But I believe they were changing routes.”

“War certainly makes for strange bedfellows,” Malone muttered.

“That’s profound, sir,” one of his lieutenants complimented him.

“Thank you.”

Ben paused at the battle site long enough to make a thorough inspection of the dead and wounded and their equipment. Their weapons were well maintained, their clothing well kept, and their boots in good shape. Ben knew then he was up against a paramilitary group that was well trained and motivated. He squatted down beside the body of a young man-maybe eighteen or nineteen years old. Unlike so many of those the Rebels fought, this was a nice-looking and clean-cut young man, from all appearances the kind any father would be glad to see his daughter date.

Until the boy opened his mouth and started spouting his political leanings.

Ben stood up with a sigh that had nothing to do with the fact that he was middle-aged. For Ben was in better physical shape than most men half his age. He had heard his son walk up and stand just behind him and to his left.

“If you’re thinking that there but for the grace of God go I, Father,” Buddy said, “you are wrong.”

Ben turned to look at his son. “Oh?”

“I learned how to think very early in life, Father. And I have very little patience with those who are content to stagnate in the murk of their minds.”

Ben smiled as he looked at his son. The boy was built like a weightlifter and was as handsome as he was strong. More importantly, Buddy could think. Just a few more campaigns, Ben thought, and he’ll be ready to take over his own battalion. After that … his Buddy knew he was being groomed, along with this sister, Tina, to take over if something happened to Ben.

Ben shook those thoughts away. “Get your team up the road, boy. Let’s see what’s happening north of us.”

Buddy’s team was stopped cold and thrown back at the junction of 223 and Highway 366, about fifteen miles south of Chester. He pulled his people back a mile or so and radioed the news to his father, calling in the coordinates.

Soon the air over his head was filled with 105 rounds from the vehicle-drawn howitzers. Buddy corrected the range until the rounds were dropping in right on target, clearing out a line five hundred yards east and west of the highway. Buddy called for the barrage to cease and waited for Ben to come up.

It wasn’t a very long wait.

At Ben’s orders, Corrie got General Striganov on the scramble frequency.

“Georgi, I just heard from Colonel Gray. He and his people are stalled between Big Sandy and Box Elder, on Highway 87. I’m pulled up short about fifteen or so miles south of Chester. I’m going to start spreading out and digging in. Colonel West and his mercenaries should be here sometime tomorrow. We will then attack on three fronts south of your lines. You copy that?”

“Ten-four, Ben. You will need my coordinates and I shall need yours so our artillery will not overshoot.”

They exchanged coordinates and agreed not to shift present battlelines without notifying the other.

“Dig in,” Ben ordered. “And bunker deep. I expect mortars in very shortly. I want forward observers on the high ground to spot enemy mortar sites. The instant you get something, bump it to me so we can lay in artillery. Captain Ramos, have the 105’s deployed well back, out of mortar range. Get them stabilized for action.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The rest of you people get busy digging. I want to see that earth fly. Get to filling bags for use around the pits. Move, people!”

Malone did have mortar capability, but they were light mortars and did not have nearly the range of Ben’s heavier pieces. But a suicide or sneak attack was not out of the question … not when one was dealing with any type of fanatic. And Malone was a fanatic of the worst type.

He actually believed his was a Holy War, sanctioned by God.

“About the same mentality as that nut over in Iran,” Ben muttered.

“Beg pardon, sir?” Jersey asked.

“Nothing, Jersey. You were just a gleam in your daddy’s eye when that disgrace went down.”

“How come we never heard of this Malone character before now, General?”

“He was busy building his (empire and army and keeping his head down. I kriew about him. But I never guessed he’d ever get this strong. That’s what I get for guessing, I suppose.”

“We’ll deal with him,” she said confidently, her head just about even with Ben’s chest. But the M16 she held and could use with expertise made her as tall as anybody in Ben’s command.

“You damn right, Jersey!” Ben said with a laugh. “Especially if they mess with you.”

“Fuckin’ A,” she told him.

Laughing, Ben began a quick inspection of the digging-in of his people.

The Rebels had just completed their bunkering in-some of them with holes dug just deep enough to cover their butts-when Malone’s mortars began chugging.

“Order everyone to stick their berets in their pockets and get into helmets,” Ben told Corrie as the first volley of mortar rounds came crashing in, jarring the ground.

“FO’S calling out enemy positions,” Corrie said, after relaying the helmet orders.

“Advise the artillery to adjust and commence firing.”

The long range 105’s soon silenced Malone’s mortars.

“Get some night glasses up to the FO’S,” Ben ordered. “As soon as it’s dark, Malone’s people will be moving back up. Double the guards. Tell them to be alert for any sneak attacks. Malone might have knee mortars; if he does, he’ll sure use them if he can work his people in close enough. Corrie, get Dan on the horn.”

“Coming under heavy attack, General,” Dan reported. “I don’t know if we can hold. I don’t know if we should.”

“Explain that reasoning, Dan.”

“We’ll plant Claymores and fall back. Make it look like we’re running for our lives and suck Malone’s people in. The Claymores will shorten the odds against us.”

“Sounds good, Dan. Go ahead. Report back to me when the operation is concluded. Corrie, have we locked in on Malone’s frequency?”

“That’s ten-four, sir. Fort Benton is monitoring now. He’s being very cautious on the air.”

“He would be. Malone is a fanatic but he’s not a stupid man.”

“Troops from Base Camp One are on the way, General. They’ll be landing in Lewistown around midnight. Colonel West had an accident. Broke his ankle. He will not be leading.”

“His XO taking over?”

“Ten-fifty, sir. Third battalion of Rebels coming up.

“Under whose command?” Corrie smiled. “Ike.” Ben opened his eyes as soon as the person drew close to his sleeping bag. He closed one hand around the butt of a cocked and locked .45, then relaxed as he made out Corrie’s shape.

“What’s up, Corrie?”

“General Ike, sir. He pushed his people hard as soon as they deplaned. He’s at Fort Ben ton now. Be here in about an hour.”

Ben looked at his watch. Three-thirty. He unzipped and rolled out of his sleeping bag, pulling on his boots and speed-lacing them. “Let’s get some coffee.”

“You’ll really be glad ta see Ike, won’t you, General?” Corrie asked as they walked to the coffee truck.

“Oh, sure. I bitched about his coming up, but I’m never going to keep Ike out of the field. He loves it as much as I do and hates paperwork as much as I do. Cecil, on the other hand, enjoys administrative work, and is the best I’ve ever seen at it. Ike and I go back a long way, Corrie. I gather Malone didn’t try anything last night?”

“No, sir. Nothing spectacular, at least. Some of his people tried infiltration. They didn’t make it.”

Dan had successfully pulled off his fake rout and the carefully planted Claymores had done the rest. Dan’s people had returned, deactivated those Claymores that were not triggered, and counted the dead. Malone had lost more than a hundred of his men, and that was sure to be very demoralizing to the man who believed he was engaged in a Holy War.

Over hot coffee and cold field rations, Ben waited for Ike and his battalion to arrive. He knew Ike would exit his vehicle whooping and hollering like a painted-up buck on the warpath, and he was not disappinted. If any Rebels were still in their sleeping bags when Ike arrived, they weren’t in there long. Ike jumped out of his Hummer and hit the ground yelling.

Ben and Ike shook hands and stood for a moment grinning at each other. Then Ike’s eyes narrowed as he began making out the hastily dug bunkers.

“Outnumbered again, huh, Ben?”

“You got it, Ike. You know it’s a tough crew when Georgi and his people can’t punch through. You and your people want to catch some sleep?”

The ex-Navy SEAL shook his head. Like Ben’s, Ike’s close-cropped hair was peppered with gray. “We slept on the planes and dozed some on the way up here. Let’s get something to eat and go over this operation. Then we can kick some ass.”

Walking over to draw rations, Ben said, “How’s West?” Ike laughed. “Mad as hell! It was one of those freak accidents. He was stepping out of a shower stall, stepped on a silver of soap, and went elbows over butt on the floor. Busted his ankle. He was still cussin’ when we pulled out.”

“He probably wanted to see Tina as much as getting into combat.”

“There is that to consider, for a fact.” As they approached the truck, Ike put out his hand. “This is not some of Dr. Chase’s goop we’re having for breakfast, is it?”

“I buried that crap.”

“Good. I hope it doesn’t poison the earth.”

Buddy and Captains Ramos and Brad joined them, and after drawing their breakfast packages and mugs of coffee, they walked over to a vehicle and sat down on the ground. Ben pulled a map out of a pocket of his BDU’S and Buddy shone a light on it.

“Dan and two companies are here,” Ben said, placing a finger about halfway between Box Elder and Big Sandy. Georgi has swung his troops around and is covering from Chester over to Cut Bank.”

Ben explained what Dan had done the previous afternoon and Ike smiled with satisfaction. Ike was Mississippi born and reared, but he despised bigotry and all those who practiced it.

“Where is Malone’s CP’-ANYBODY know?”

“Somewhere around Conrad. Right here.” Ben punched the map.

“Pretty good move on his part,” Ike said “Things get too hot, he could easily duck into this wilderness area just west of his location and it’d take ten times the people we have to flush him.” “I’m thinking that’s where he and his people live. I’m recalling that back in the mid-eighties the government had to go in there and arrest him a time or two.”

“That’s right,” Ike replied, looking up from the map. “I remember this bunch now. So where do you want me and mine, Ben?”

“There is no way in hell you could effectively spread your people out, north and south along Highway 89, to put Malone in a box. We just don’t have the troops. Ike, we’ve got a bunch of outlaws and bikers and crud coming up behind us. Up Interstate 15 or using county roads, we really don’t know what route they’re taking. And we don’t know how many. It might be five hundred, it might be fifteen hundred. Both Georgi and I feel that Ashley and Sister Voleta have swung north to try to box Georgi. But I think we’ve pretty much nixed that by shifting Georgi over to this other sector. I’ve left one frequency open so Ashley can listen to us …”

“And hope that he’s arrogant enough to stop his westward advance and cut south to butt heads with you,” Ike correctly guessed.

“That’s it. We’re a lot fresher than Georgi and his people. They’ve been getting a pounding for long enough. They don’t need Ashley and Voleta breathing down their necks.”

Ike glanced at Buddy. The young man caught the glance and said, “I’m tired of being shifted around, Ike. If I have to meet my mother in combat, so be it. Though I am of her, that does not mean I am for her.”

“My, my,” Ike drawled in his Mississippi best. “The boy shore do talk fancy, don’t he?” “Put it in your ear, Ike,” Buddy told him. After the laughter, Ben said, “I’ve already notified Georgi of this move. Now then, we’re going to punch a hole through Malone’s lines and cut his people in two. When that is done, one battalion will turn east to push those troops back and eventually link up with Dan, the other battalion will push west, to link up with Georgi.”

“Sounds good to me, Ben.” “Sounds good … but will it work?” “There is one way to find out, Father,” Buddy said, standing up.

“Oh?” Ben looked up at his son. “Do it.”

The Rebels struck Malone’s lines at dawn. There was nothing fancy about the attack; it was straight out of a textbook. Tanks and mortars and vehicle-drawn 105’s laid down a smoke pattern and the tanks led the advance, ground troops coming in behind them.

And when Ike and Ben said they were going in with the troops … who among them was going to argue and tell them they could not?

Jersey and Beth.

“Stupid!” Jersey said, a disgusted look on her face.

“Foolish and childish!” Beth said, a reproachful look in her eyes. “It smacks of typical male bravado.”

Ike beat it back to his own battalion and left Ben to handle it.

“Coward!” Ben called after him.

Jersey and Beth bitched and pouted, with both knowing it was not going to change Ben’s mind. Ben leaned up against a fender in the predawn darkness and let them wind down.

“You all through?” he finally asked.

Jersey and Beth glared at him.

“Get into body armor and helmets if you’re coming along with me. Corrie, Cooper, the same goes for you. Gear up, we’re moving out.”

The Rebels busted through Malone’s lines at the junction of 223 and 366. For almost a half hour it was eyeball to eyeball and hand to hand along a two-mile stretch of Montana countryside. Cooks, medics, supply personnel, clerks, and radio operators fought with pistols and camp axes against the troops of Malone.

Ben came face to face with a man who looked as if he ate trees for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Out of ammo, the ape reversed his AKBLEDG and swung it like a club at Ben. Ben ducked and pumped the man’s belly full of .308 rounds from his old Thunder Lizard and kept on advancing.

Jersey was tackled and brought down by a young man, screaming out his hate. She gave him a knee in the balls and a knife blade across his throat, grabbed up her Ml6, and kept pace with Ben.

Corrie’s backpack radio took the brunt of automatic weapons’ fire, knocking her off her boots. Cooper tossed a grenade into the nest of hate mongers and hauled Corrie to her feet.

Ben, Beth, Jersey, Corrie, and Cooper found themselves a full two hundred yards ahead of the main body of Rebels, looked around, not liking their openness, and jumped into a bunker. Ben and Jersey and Corrie began heaving bloody dead bodies out of the bunker-brought to their present state of final unpleasantness by two Rebel-fired mortar rounds-while Cooper righted the .50 caliber machine gun and yelled for Beth to feed it.

Then he turned the weapon on Malone’s men and let the big .50 rock and roll.

A breech in the line had been opened and secured.

“Cease fire!” Ben finally yelled. “Pass it up and down the line. Cease fire!”

The landscape was littered with the ghostly silence of the dead and the moaning and crying of the badly wounded and the dying.

Ben used a walkie-talkie for communications while Corrie waited for another radio to replace the ruined backpack. “Approach the wounded cautiously,” he ordered his people. j8Work in two-person teams. One medic with an armed guard to watch for suicide tries. Bear in mind that these people are fanatics.”

“I got a wounded man over here won’t let Jimmy work on him,” Ramos radioed. “He says no goddamn nigger is gonna play doctor on him.”

Ben did not hesitate with his reply. “Then let the son of a bitch die.”

“Our lines have been split,” Malone was informed. “Raines pulled in more troops from down south and busted through. He’s now controlling about a five-mile stretch along Highway 2.”

Malone took the news stoically. There was no point in ranting and raving about it. That would not accomplish anything. Casualties?”

“Unknown at this time, sir. But from first reports, it’s going to be at least several hundred. And the Rebels have seized mortars and hundreds of rounds.”

“Crabtree’s men?”

“Cut off.”

“Communications?”’”

“Spotty. He’s trying to keep it to a minimum to avoid being electronically pinpointed by the Rebels.”

“Damn Ben Raines and his black heart to the pits of Hell!” Malone let a little of his temper slip through as he walked to the wall map.

Malone studied the map for a moment. “Tell Crabtree to make a run for it. Head north and try to link up with this Ashley person. He should be between Willow Creek and Wild Horse. Tell him to pull out now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get in touch with this Pete Jones person. … Is he a white man?”

“No, sir. I mean, I don’t think so. But you can’t tell by talking to him.”

“Probably one of those educated niggers. They’re the worst kind. Uppity. Don’t know their place.” He looked again at the map. “Tell him to attack Fort Benton. But don’t do it head on. Make a series of sneak attacks. That might force Raines to shift some of his men back down south.”

“Yes, sir.” The aide hesitated. “Sir? We have word that Meg is in jail in Fort Benton. We picked it up by monitoring radio transmissions.”

“She’s too good a soldier to waste. Tell this Jones nigger to get her out of there and bring her to me. If he can pull that off, that will be points in his favor. I might give him a watermelon.” Laughing, the aide left the room.

“Dan and his people have taken the airport at Harve,” Corrie informed Ben. “Tina says Malone’s men have bugged out.”

“Which direction?”

“North.”

“They’re going to link up with Ashley and Voleta. Advise Ike of this development and tell Dan to stay put. Also advise Fort Benton to go to middle alert. Jones and his outlaws just may try to attack there.”

Ben stepped out of the building he was using for a CP and looked up and down the street. There was not much left of the small town, certainly nothing salvageable. It had been carefully picked over, probably by Malone and and his people. He mulled matters over in his mind, rubbing his chin as he thought.

Stepping back into the building, he picked up the mike and got Ike on the horn. “Ike, swing your people around and head for Harve. Get with Dan and finish Ashley and his bunch once and for all. I’m going to hold what I have here until you’re finished. I’ve got a feeling Fort Benton is going to come under attack and they might need our help. We can be down there in about ninety minutes.”

“Ten-four, Ben. Rollin’ now.”

“Corrie, locate Buddy for me and get him over here.” His son was in the CP within moments. “Buddy, take your Rat Team and an additional platoon and get down to Fort Benton. Take heavy mortars and heavy machine guns. If an attack comes from this Jones person, it will more than likely come from the south.” He walked to the wall map. “Move into position here,” he said, pointing out the area.

Buddy studied the spot. “Your thinking is that the outlaws left Highway 89 and are moving north on these old county roads?”

“Yes. They had to avoid Great Falls and the creepies. They know we’re using 90 as a supply route. That doesn’t give them many options. Get your people together and move out.”

Buddy hesitated, meeting Ben’s eyes. “And you intend to do what, Father?”

Ben’s smile was slight. “You’re quick, boy. What do you think I’m going to do?”

“You’re sending Ike east to link up with Dan, and you used an open frequency doing it. Now you’re sending me south to Fort Benton. I think you’re giving this Malone person an opportunity that will be too good friend him to pass up.”

“That’s right, Buddy. I’m the bait that’s sitting on a nice sharp hook just waiting for the big fish to swim by and grab it.” “What do you make of it?” Malone asked his staff.

“I think Raines is taking a big gamble. I think he’s too confident and this may be our chance to move in and cream him once and for all.”

But Malone wasn’t sure. He had carefully studied Ben Raines over the years. Had read, with some distain, most of the man’s actionstadventure books, and knew the man was, among other things, totally unpredictable when it came to unconventional warfare. The man was as sneaky as a snake and totally void of morals … why, he didn’t even attend church!

“I don’t know,” Malone finally said. “He’s certainly leaving himself vulnerable. Whether by accident or design is something I can’t be certain of. I do know this: before we commit to an assault against his position, we’d better review the options very carefully.”

“He only has two companies of Rebels with him. We’ve got him outnumbered ten or twelve to one.” “Ben Raines went into New York City outnumbered fifty to one and came out victorious,” Malone reminded them. “I warned you all from the outset: do not underestimate this man. Leave me, I’ve got to think about this for a time.”

“You think Malone will take the bait?” Ramos asked Ben.

“I’m hoping. As badly as he hates me, I can’t see him letting an opportunity this good pass by. Are the people getting into position?”

“Quietly and quickly.”

“Now we wait.”

“How are we gonna do this?” Sweet Meat asked Beerbelly.

Everybody had linked up with the instincts of a homing pigeon. Beerbelly, Satan, and Pete Jones and his crew.

“This is all Pete’s show,” Satan said. “And I’m damn glad of it.”

“Why is that?” Bruiser asked.

“Just to prove once and for all that a nigger can’t do nothin’ right.”

Pete looked at the man. “If you feel that way about it, you ugly ape, why did you link up with us?”

“So I can watch you make a fool out of yourself, that’s why. And when this is all over, I’m gonna kill you!”

“You ain’t neither,” Mac said. “I am.”

“Why don’t you draw straws?” Pete suggested. “Or have some sort of raffle?”

“Why don’t we all settle down and plan out the job ahead of us?” Lopez suggested.

Mac muttered something about coons and spies and then shut his mouth.

“Because I’m waiting for the scouts to return and give me a report on the town,” Pete said patiently. “Just as soon as they return, we can map out strategy.”

“You sure you can spell that word?” Satan smiled after the question.

“Can you?” Pete popped back.

“I got a suggestion,” Wanda said. “Why don’t we all put the hard feelings behind us until this job is over and Ben Raines is dead. We’re never gonna get anything done if we don’t work together.”

The majority of those biker leaders and warlords gathered around agreed with that.

“All right, all right!” Mac said, after receiving a nod from Satan. “I don’t like your black ass, Pete, but you give the orders and we’ll carry them out.”

“Agreed,” Satan said.

“Fine.” Smiling, Pete rubbed his hands together. “Here come the scouts. Now we can put our heads together and plan this operation.”

Crabtree met Ashley’s column about twenty-five miles north of Havre, just about the time Ike’s battalion was dismounting in Havre and Ike and Dan were preparing to map out the campaign.

“Beautiful!” Ashley said with a laugh. “We’ve been monitoring Raines’s radio transmissions and know that he’s vulnerable. We’ve got him, Crabtree. I’m finally going to put an end to Ben Raines.” He looked at the man. “You are Southern, aren’t you?”

“Michigan,” Crabtree corrected.

“Oh. Well… no matter. You had no say over your birthplace. Here’s what we’re going to do …”

The Rebels had the finest and most sophisticated radio equipment in the world, and given the least little break of luck they could track the movements of any enemy. Just as they were now doing with Crabtree.

“Crabtree has linked up with Ashley and Voleta,” Corrie told Ben seconds after the communications truck relayed the news to her.

“I was hoping he would do that,” Ben said with a smile. “Now let me put myself in that arrogant bastard’s boots for a moment. We’ve deliberately been transmitting on an open frequency, so Ashley knows I’ve split my command and I’m sitting here with about two hundred and fifty people. If I were he, I would drive straight south and hook up with Highway 2, then as fast as I could, I’d head for my enemy’s position. The enemy being me. I would smash into my enemy’s position with a frontal attack, depending on sheer numbers to completely overrun the position.” He winked at Jersey. “How’s that sound to you, Jersey?”

“Frankly, not worth a shit, General! Are you tryin’ to get us killed?”

Ben laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “Relax, Jersey. This place is going to be filled with people, but those people ain’t gonna be us.”

“Sir?”

“Malone has just given the orders to move out,” Corrie told Ben.

Ben glanced at his watch. “All right, people. It’s going to take Malone and Ashley about an hour and a half to get here. That’ll put them here at sixteen hundred hours; with about two and half hours of good daylight left. We’ve got an hour to set things up and a half hour to get into position. Let’s get to work.”

“You in position, Ike?” Ben radioed on scramble.

“Ten-four, Ben. Me and Dan are about ten minutes behind. Bogies should be passing through Rudyard right about now.”

“That’s ten-four, Ike. Malone’s main force is just below us. They used 336 to travel east, and they’ll be cutting north at any moment. How’s it looking on your end, Georgi?”

“Fantastic, Ben!” the Russian radioed. “I can’t believe our luck. They’re taking the bait like a hungry shark.”

“What is your position, Georgi?”

“Just approaching Galata. Tliat will put us eleven miles from your position in about five minutes.”

“That’s ten-four. Say a prayer for luck, boys and girls. We just might break the back of the snake this afternoon.”

From a few hundred feet out, the town of Chester looked as though it had an armed Rebel in each window. What the buildings and houses contained were the bodies of Malone’s men who had been killed earlier that day, stiffly and permanently grinning and grimacing in puffy death, the staring eyes seeing nothing-so far as mortals have been able to ascertain.

Ben lifted his walkie-talkie. “Mortar crews, when they get within range, start dropping a few rounds in on them. But keep it wide as if we’re unable to get on target. We want them close enough to smell their hate before we open up with everything we’ve got.”

And that was plenty. Some of the rear walls of buildings had been knocked out in order that tanks could hide, the muzzles of their cannon lowered to the max-they would be firing at almost point blank range.

The Duster and Big Thumper crews and many machine gun crews were hiding in the ditches and behind the ridges and in the underbrush at both ends of the town. Claymores had been planted alongside the roads, and every Rebel had his or her pockets bulging with grenades, for this was going to be very close up work.

Not to mention one hell of a gamble on the part of Ben Raines.

From the top of the tallest structure in town, a Rebel lifted his walkie-talkie. “I have them in sight, and there is a bunch of them, General.”