320

When the shell-shocked night broke free of darkness and light spread over the countryside, the strip of land that had held the last of DeMarco’s men was a smoking ruin of twisted and torn trees and craters from the impacting 81mm and 60mm mortar rounds that had been hurled into the area nonstop for hours. Those men who survived the attack came staggering out, their hands in the air. The Rebels then shifted their attentions toward sector two and began claiming the acreage by walking in mortar rounds from all directions. For forty-eight hours, the mortar barrage into sector two was relentless. With a range of nearly fifty-two hundred yards, the Rebels manning the 81mm mortars could lay back and drop in their rounds with little fear of any type of retaliation from DeMarco’s troops.

On the morning of the third day of the assault, Corrie received a message of surrender.

“Cease fire,” Ben ordered.

The land fell quiet and the Rebels waited in the now seemingly unnatural silence. DeMarco’s men began staggering out of the smoking timber, their hands over their heads. They were rounded up, their

321 hands tied behind their backs, and tossed into trucks.

“DeMarco said we would be victorious,” one of the prisoners told Buddy.

“He lied,” Buddy told him, then bodily picked up the man and heaved him into the bed of a truck.

“Are you going to shoot us?” another asked Ike.

“I ought to,” Ike told him. “That’s what you deserve.”

“Lord have mercy 1”

One of Ike’s special-ops people held out a Nazi flag. Ike looked at the flag, spat on it, and then looked at the prisoner. “You fly this damn thing and then call on the Lord? Get him out of here.”

“What are we going to do with all these prisoners?” West asked Ben at a meetingof batt comms after sector two had been declared secure.

“I don’t know. What concerns me most is what happened to the black-shirts who pulled out of Mountain Home? I thought they linked up with this bunch of crap?”

“For about a day,” Striganov said. “Prisoners I have personally interrogated say the black-shirts moved on further north. They say they don’t know where they were heading. And I think they are telling the truth. I’m not at all certain the black-shirts trust this pack of rabble.”

The batt comms were meeting in a large old home on the outskirts of Van Buren. Better communications had been set up, and Corrie was now able to talk directly with HQ down in Laredo.

“What’s on your mind, Ben?” West asked. “I can tell something is troubling you.”

“NAL paratroopers,” Ben replied.

“We don’t have any intel about them,” Ike said. “We don’t even know if Hoffman has enough of them to be effective.”

322 “He’s got everything else,” Ben countered. “Why not have a division of jumpers that he’s keeping out of sight? Or two or three divisions, for that matter. I’m not going to sell him short. Say he does have a full division of paratroopers. His infantry keep us occupied in south Texas and he sends jumpers in behind us. As short as we are, we’d have a hell of time shifting enough people around to be effective.” Ben shook his head. “I don’t like it. DeMarco is behind us now, and so are the black-shirts who were in Arkansas. And we don’t have any idea how many others are north of us who support Hoffman. Five hundred or five thousand. Or more. We can’t concentrate all our forces in south Texas.”

Ben stared out the window for a moment. “Ike, I want you to assume command of the forces in Texas. Georgi, you, Rebet, and Dan will stay up here with me. Corrie, order all personnel from my One Battalion, and all of Three, Five, and Six Battalions, to gear up and get up here. I want armor and artillery with them. Find out from Tina and Raul how many personnel from Mexico have joined us and how the training is progressing. Also, get me the latest from General Payon.” He smiled at her. “That ought to keep you busy for a few minutes.”

“Ben,” West said. “If Hoffman gets between us, you’re going to be cut off and running.”

“That’s the idea. We’re not going to be able to contain Hoffman at the border. But right now, his supply lines are stretched awfully thin. The further north he progresses, the thinner they’ll become. When he moves into Texas, I want Payon to have teams ready to do an end-around on both flanks, and come up behind Hoffman. I want his supply lines harassed and disrupted. And I want to make that son of a bitch have to fight on three or four fronts. After

323 reading the reports from every available source, one things stands out clear: Hoffman has never fought a guerrilla-type war. He’s relied on brute force and massive troop movement to win what he’s got. The Rebels have been fighting a guerrilla-type war for years. We know how; they don’t. Hoffman has people who do know how, but so far they are not making the decisions.

“You all know where we have supplies cached. We have enough supplies hidden around this country to fight a guerrilla-type war for years. And it’s going to come to that. Believe it. Ike, when you reach the point where you can’t hold out, bug out. No last-ditch efforts. Keep in mind the guerrilla motto: He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day.”

When the laughter had died down, Ben said, “Take off, people. Good luck.”

Striganov had eyed Ben suspiciously after the others had left the room. He poured a cup of coffee and sat back down with Dan and Rebet. Outside the sounds of engines filled the air as those batt comms leaving pulled out. “Now you can tell us what you really have in mind, Ben,” the Russian said, a half smile on his lips.

Ben grinned, the boyish smile taking years from his face. “You don’t really think I’m going to leave Jackman and DeMarco at our backs, do you?”

“I did wonder about that,” Dan said.

Rebet nodded his head. “Yes. I wondered also. But I think I know the answer to General Striganov’s question, now.”

“Oh?” Ben asked, freshening his coffee.

“Just as soon as Ike and the others are on their way back to Texas, we take off after DeMarco and Jackman. You probably had it in your mind that you were going to do it alone. Forget it, General.”

324 Ben laughed and sugared his coffee. “I did have the latter in mind, but I didn’t hold out much hope of it flying.”

“Perish the thought,” Dan said.

“We all go,” Striganov grumbled.

“What’s the plan?” Rebet asked.

“We destroy Jackman and DeMarco,” Ben said quietly.

DeMarco and Jackman moved out very quickly, and they weren’t at all neat about their leaving. Scouts were on their butts almost from the outset. The scouts laid back and kept Ben and the others notified whenever the long columns of troops made a move.

Ben sent Striganov and Rebet and troops racing to the north, while he and Dan pulled in behind the scouts and poked along, always staying a full half day behind the turncoats. As yet, no word had gone out over the air as to exactly where Jackman and DeMarco had in mind. But Ben felt they would slip up eventually, and on the third day out, they did.

“Bingo!” Corrie said, after receiving a message from the scouts. “DeMarco and Jackman are heading for northern Wisconsin. Up in the Nicolet National Forest.”

“Pull over and string an antenna,” Ben ordered. “We’ve got to tell Georgi so he can get in place.”

“Scouts report the enemy column is pulling over and seem to be calling it a day,” Corrie said.

“That’s even better,” Ben said. “I could use a break.” They were in northern Missouri, paralleling DeMarco’s column over in Illinois.

The antenna strung and scramble on, before Corrie could bump Georgi, Ike roared on. “God—

325 dammit, Ben. Where in the hell are you?”

“We found out where the escaping hens are going to roost and we will be slipping into the henhouse like foxes in a few days.”

“That doesn’t answer my damn question! What the hell does all that mean?”

“Relax, Ike. I’m not alone. Now get off the air so I can talk to Georgi.”

“Jesus, Ben, I swear to God, I can’t leave you alone for ten minutes without you getting into trouble. Will you, for Christ’s sake …”

Ben turned down the volume and said to Corrie, “When he winds down, get Georgi on the horn, will you?”

“What if he doesn’t wind down?”

“Change frequencies.”

Corrie listened for a moment. “He wants to know if you want attack choppers?”

“No.”

“He wants to know ‘why the hell not?’”

“Give me that damn set, please. Ike, goddammit, I need the choppers to stay right where they are. Hoffman could bust through at any moment. I’ll wrap this thing up here and I’ll see you when I get back. Eagle out!”

Ben started laughing as soon as he broke the signal. Ike would be kicking wastebaskets and cussing and jumping up and down. The exercise might do him good. Ike always needed to lose a few pounds.

Ben was awakened in the dark hours of the morning by a runner from communications. “Hoffman’s forces are approaching Mexico City, General. General Payon says there is no way he can hold. He’s

326 splitting up his forces into small guerrilla-style units and retreating northward. They will be destroying bridges as they move north.”

Ben acknowledged the report and looked at his watch. It was only a few minutes before he usually rose. He let his team sleep on for a little while and washed his face and hands and then shaved in cold water, only cutting himself once. As usual, Jersey was the first one of his team up. After her toilet, she joined him in the coolness of very early morning for a cup of coffee. Neither spoke until their second cup had been poured.

Jersey studied Ben’s face in the dim light for a moment. “What’s wrong, General?”

“Hoffman’s goose-steppers are knocking on the back door of Mexico City.”

Jersey said a very ugly word.

“I agree.”

Corrie and Beth and Cooper joined them, each carrying a cup of coffee. Only Cooper was eating. Cooper could get out of bed and eat a raw buffalo before his feet hit the floor.

“Cooper,” Jersey said. “What is that mess you’re gnawing on?”

“Last night’s liver.”

Jersey said another extremely ugly word and moved away from Cooper.

“It’s good for you,” Cooper said.

Jersey shuddered and asked, “How far is Mexico City from the border, General?”

“Probably five hundred miles or so to Brownsville. Probably seven hundred and fifty to Laredo. I think we have plenty of time before Hoffman’s people reach the border … in any large numbers, that is.”

“We still have plenty of gas, General,” Cooper pointed out.

327 “So does Hoffman.” Ben spoke the words quietly. “He’s agreed not to use it if we don’t. That arrangement was negotiated through Pay on.”

“I despise that stuff,” Beth said softly. “It’s … evil.”

“I agree,” Ben said.

The team sat in silence for a time, enjoying the cool and calmness of early morning. Many other Rebels were up, but they moved quietly out of long habit. Ben did not have to give any orders about when they would move out. The battalions knew that they would be on the road at first light.

Dan walked up, carrying a mug of tea. “I heard about Hoffman,” the Englishman said. “Three of the last great armies on the face of the earth about to engage in what could well be the greatest battle ever fought.”

“I’m scared,” Beth admitted. “I thought we had a lock on things. I thought the fighting was just about over. Now it’s just about to begin.”

“Stay scared,” Ben told her. “It’ll help keep you alive.” He drained his mug of coffee and walked away.

“He’s changed,” Cooper said somberly. “I can feel it.”

“The general knows that the battles ahead of us could well make the difference between liberty or slavery,” Dan said. “Or it could mean the end of everything. A total collapse of any vestiges of civilization. It could possibly mean that the Rebel army, as it stands now, will cease to be and we all will be forced to break up into small groups of resistance fighters. There is a lot weighing on the general’s mind.”

“Hoffman had to have been planning this long before the Great War,” Beth said. “Not necessarily

328 Hoffman, but his father or grandfather.”

“Oh, yes,” Dan said, sitting down with the group. “Most certainly, they were. Why didn’t the United States government stop them back then, I believe is what you are leading up to? Yes. You four were children back then. You couldn’t have possibly understood how the politics of the world worked. It was a sorry mess. In this country, in England, in countries all over the world. Lack of cooperation between governments seemed to be the order of the day. It just seemed that nobody could agree on anything. In one part of the world, peace seemed to be blossoming. In yet another, bloody wars were raging. As the general has told you, in all the so-called civilized, industrialized nations, governments were teetering on the edge of bankruptcy trying to be all things to all people at all times. Taxes were going up and up and up and services were going down, down, down. If you were not there, and old enough to know what was taking place, it’s very difficult to explain.”

“Everybody wanted something for nothing,” Jersey said.

“Well…” Dan looked out into the graying of dawn. “Yes and no. Big governments seemed incapable of staying out of the private lives of their citizens. Governments would not allow the private citizens to protect themselves by carrying guns, but yet the courts hampered the movements of the police to such a degree the law-abiding citizen was not amply protected. In the cities, it was not safe to walk after dark. In many areas, it was not safe to walk anytime.”

“Because of gangs of punks?” Cooper asked.

“Yes.”

“Well… why didn’t the police go in and clean