CHAPTER 9

Jersey located the sniper and shot him right between his eyes as tears filled her own eyes. She turned and almost fainted in shock as Ben rolled over and got to his knees.

Ben shook his head. “That body armor really works, doesn’t it?”

Dan helped him to his feet and opened Ben’s field jacket. A large red spot was forming, and that would turn into a purple bruise as the day wore on.

“You’re just damn lucky he wasn’t trying for a head shot,” Dan commented.

Ben laughed and winced in pain. “Hell, Dan, with my hard head I’d probably been better off if he had.”

A medic took him by the arm. “Let’s go check for any broken bones, General.”

Ben did not argue. He was not exempt from following his own guidelines.

Ben was checked out and x-rayed at Chase’s newly set-up MASH, and was given a lecture by Chase on why he should be more careful. “Even though I know my words are going in one ear and out the other,”

Chase added.

“Right. OW! Damn, Lamar. Quit poking me.

That hurts.”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. Put your shirt back on. I’m tired of looking at all the old bullet scars in your hide. You’re all right, although you’ll be sore for a few days. And, Raines? Try to stay out of trouble, damn it!”

“Hell, there isn’t any trouble to get into,” Ben bitched. Noon, the day after he was knocked flat on his butt by the sniper’s bullet.

Not one shot had been fired-that he was aware of-for at least twenty-four hours. Ben’s chest ached, but a couple of aspirin every few hours took care of that.

The wound West had sustained during the assassination attempts had not slowed him down. But Cecil had developed an infection, and Holly had plopped him into a hospital bed for a few days.

Ben smiled, knowing that Cecil hated hospitals almost as bad as he did.

Monte and his troops had ceased their seemingly aimless wanderings, and were now bivouacked about forty miles from the Teterboro airport. And that was probably due to Buddy and some of his people slitting more than a dozen throats during the past night. Nothing like waking up and finding all your guards dead.

Buddy had radioed back that Monte had really tightened up on the camp’s security. Ben had ordered Buddy back a few miles, told him to keep a few scouts out, and to keep Ben informed.

He had talked with Ike. Nothing was stirring down in Lower Manhattan either. Gene Savie, true to his word, was calling in spotter reports every time movement was noted from their vantage point.

Savie’s survivors had spotted some Night People scurrying about like black bugs, but could make no sense out of what the creepies were doing.

And neither could Ben.

“Diversion!” Ben said, straightening up in his chair.

“Sir?” Beth looked at him.

“Bump Katzman. Tell him to contact Gene Savie and tell him to stop watching the Night People run around in circles and start sweeping all the other areas around them. Gene’s people have been made, and the crawlers are throwing up a smoke screen to conceal what they’re really doing.”

“Yes, sir.”

When she was finished, Ben said, “Come on.

Let’s get out of this damn office and prowl around some.”

They drove to the George Washington Bridge, and Ben chatted briefly with the Rebels on guard, then drove to the center of the bridge and got out. He stood for a time, gazing down at the dark waters of the Hudson, watching his patrol boats constantly checking the area. Which side would Monte’s Sappers come down? Where would they place their charges?

He had already made up his mind that the structure was going to go-or at least a section of it, and that’s all it would take to cripple the bridge and cut off Ben from his people in New Jersey.

He looked up as several Rebel vehicles came across

from the New Jersey side, accompanying the last of the supply trucks. Several of Tina’s Scouts were leading the parade, Jerre among them. She stared straight ahead as they passed Ben.

Ben tossed her a sloppy salute and laughed, knowing she was fighting with all her might not to toss him the Bird.

When he got back to his office, about an hour later, Chase was sitting there, having a cup of coffee. There was a strange smile on his lips.

“Is the coffee that good?” Ben asked.

“It’s the worst I ever drank, so that means you probably made it. I have news.”

“Good news or bad?”

“I think it’s funny.”

Ben poured a cup of coffee and sat down.

“One of the Rebels accompanying the supply trucks had a slight accident about forty-five minutes ago. Had to be hospitalized.”

“You think that’s funny? I worry about you, La-mar.”

“Perhaps I should have said ironic. She’ll be with us for a couple of days.”

“She?”

“No point in sending her back now. She can’t walk. Better off just staying over here. Besides, it was a bad sprain. When I release her she’ll have to be assigned a sit-down job. Preferably in an office. Like yours, maybe.”

“Fine, Lamar. I could use some extra help.”

“Then you don’t mind if I assign her here?”

“No.”

“Good. Because I’ve already informed personnel of that decision.”

“Naturally. Nobody ever tells me anything.”

“Are you going to pout?”

“Lamar, I have a lot on my mind. I …”

A very dull thudding sound drifted to them.

“Find out what that was, Jersey,” Ben asked.

But before the little bodyguard could exit the door, Beth held up a hand, listening to her headset. “They’ve made their move, General. A part of the New Jersey side of the bridge was just knocked out.”

Ben took it calmly. “Sappers probably planted the charges last night.” He waited as Beth listened to the reports coming in. When she looked up at him, he asked, “Was anybody hurt?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, the lower level was unstable anyway.” He sighed. “We all knew it was coming.”

“More coming in, sir,” Beth announced. She listened for a moment. “Correction, sir. The bridge is intact. They knocked down the approaches.” Again, she held up a hand and listened. “Another correction, sir. One approach is down. The rest have suffered structural damage. Our engineers are going over there now.”

“That’s better,” Ben said with a smile.

“That’s

damn

good news.” He stood up. “Let’s go look at the damage while we still can.”

“I’m going back to the hospital and check on my new patient,” Chase said.

“She’s going to be assigned to me?”

“Right, Ben.”

“Well, when she can hobble around, send her on over.

Oh, by the way: what’s her name?”

Chase made it to the door before he replied. Over his shoulder, he called, “Jerre Hunter!”

Ben was not in a peachy-creamy mood as he reviewed the damage done to the New Jersey side. He would have sent Jerre back across despite Chase’s objections. But to do that, he’d have to send her all the way to Ike’s position, transporting her either by boat across to Staten Island or by running the gauntlet through Brooklyn to get to the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge.

“Hell with it,” he muttered. “But damned if she’ll work in my office.” He looked up as an engineer approached him.

“If we had the time, General, we could fix it. But it’s going to take some time. Whoever planted those charges knew what they were doing to attain the max structural damage to this side.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure,” Ben said. “We can’t use it, but then, neither can

they.”

“Pardon, General,” Beth touched his arm. “Buddy is reporting that Monte’s people are on the move.

Heading straight for the Teterboro airport.”

“Advise Tina to prepare for immediate attack.

Tell Rebet and Danjou to stay out of the airport area and to hold what they have. Tina’s already worked out a hole for her bunch to use to get out of there.”

Dan had joined them on the bridge, and with that remark, he looked at Ben, questions in his eyes.

“You’re going to pull them out today, General?”

Before he replied to Dan’s question, he said to Beth, “And tell Rebet and Danjou to sit very quietly.

We’ll leave the pinchers wide open. Give Monte’s people lots of room. Let’s see what they’ll do.”

With that, Dan began smiling. “Now I see, General.”

“If Monte will bite. But this Colonel person seems to know a lot about me. I’ll wager that he’s the one who had Monte bypass the

airport in the first place. I’ll also wager that he’s the one who planned blowing this bridge. I wish to hell I knew who he was.”

“General Ike coming under heavy attack, sir,”

Beth informed.

“The offensive is on, people. Let’s go to work.”

Tina’s forward observers had been forced to shift positions a half-dozen times during Monte’s meanderings. Now, with Monte on the move with a definite goal in mind, the FO’S could attack the warlord’s movements.

The 155’s Ben had assigned to Tina’s command could lob a shell over fifteen miles with near-pinpoint accuracy. The 81mm mortars had much less range, about 3500 meters.

“We’re gonna cream the Interstate system usin’

those One-fifty-fives” the most forward of the FO’S

radioed to Tina.

“Can’t be helped. Are they in range?”

“Approximately two more minutes.” He called out the coordinates. “And you can walk them in and be right on target.”

“You hope,” Tina said.

The gunners started counting with thirty seconds to go.

They commenced firing one twenty seconds behind the other, to give the FO’S time to call in adjustments. The first outgoing HE blew a hole in Interstate 95. The second round took out two vehicles, and the third round of WP hit a truck carrying ammo. The impacting round, combined with the exploding ammo, knocked out a section of the overpass the column was on, forcing them to fall back.

Monte’s force had never come under sustained artillery fire before. Even the most battle-hardened men and women cringe before it, especially when every third round is white phosphorus that eats through skin and burns through bone.

“No, god damn it!” Ashley yelled.

“Monte! Split your people and press on. Get under the artillery. They’re firing at twenty-second intervals. That means they’ve only got three of the big pieces.”

“How you figure that?” Monte yelled over the crash and boom and screaming.

“Rate of fire for a self-propelled

One-fifty-five is one round a minute. If you let your troops panic now, you’ll never get them back together.”

Monte stuck a pistol in Ashley’s

face. “Then you lead, hotshot. We’ll follow.”

Ashley had toughened considerably over the years.

He pushed the pistol away and said, “You and me, Monte. Together,

we

will lead.”

“Done. Let’s go.”

Screaming out orders, finally having to physically confront the men, Monte and Ashley rallied their frightened troops and shoved and pushed and threatened and promised them the moon and stars. They shoved on, driving as fast as they could, just staying ahead of the shelling.

“Cease firing! Cease firing!” another team of FO’S radioed. “I’ve lost them. They’re just north of Two-eighty between the Expressway and Twenty-one. Shut it down.”

The 155’s fell silent.

Monte had split his troops up into five groups, approximately 800 per group. He had never commanded this many troops, usually maintaining a force of about a thousand men. But as his territory grew, he had been forced to take in other warlords and their outlaw followings. Without proper organization, Monte was discovering, commanding this many men could be a pain in the butt.

“Order all your people to lay low in the buildings,”

Ashley suggested. “Make them come to us.”

“Good idea.”

Tina radioed her father, telling him Monte’s people had disappeared.

“Spotter planes up from the beold naval air station, Beth. Tell them to stay high dnd out of range.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ben turned to a map. “They’re over here in the Belleville, East Orange, Nutley area.

The FO’S said they’d split up, right? So that means that this Colonel somebody is probably calling the shots. Monte is a thug, not a tactician.”

“Spotter planes going up, sir.”

Ben looked at the map. “Tell Rebet and Danjou to fall back north of Eighty, into Hackensack. Leave the area between Lodi and Bogota wide open for Tina. When she’s inside, with whatever of Monte’s battalions on her heels, she can turn around and Rebet and Danjou can swing around and close the trap.”

“Orders for Buddy, sir?”

“None. He knows he’s to lone-wolf it and stay loose.”

West and Ike had radioed that they were up to their butts in creepie-crawlers, literally coming out of the woodwork. But that they were having no difficulty holding.

“The latest from General Striganov?” Ben asked.

“Still several days out. I believe he had been living in Alberta, General. Is that right?”

“I think so. Several-thousand-mile pull anyway you cut it.”

Ben had her check with half a dozen of his posts, stretching west to east along 171st Street. None of them had seen any creepies nor had come under any hostile fire.

“Strange,” Ben muttered. “And what were the crawlers doing with that diversion?”

Ben now had six bridges to defend, although he still did not believe the Night People would attempt to storm their way across the bridges. “Check the bridges, Beth.”

The Rebels guarding the bridges had seen nothing.

Boring.

“Spotter planes are reporting nothing, sir,”

Beth told him.

“That’s what they’re waiting for then.”

“Sir?”

“Night. Monte probably didn’t plan it that way. But they’ll hit Tina tonight, and the creepies will throw it at us tonight. I’d bet a month’s pay on it.” He smiled at Beth. “If any of us were getting paid, that is. Double the sentries, Beth.

Pass the word to arm the electronically fired Claymores.” He looked at his watch. It would be dark in less than an hour. “Order all personnel to eat now and return to their posts.” He glanced out the window. It was snowing. “Wonderful.

It’s going to be a crappy night all the way around.”