Is it breakfast yet?"

Jersey laughed softly. "Cold rations and hot coffee when we're pulling out, Linda. Don't worry, you won't be able to see what you're eating, so it'll taste all right. It's when you can see it that it gets rough."

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Linda felt like she might make it, and the walk to Ben's quarters completed the wake-up process.

The entire team was a.s.sembled there, standing around the coffeepot. Beth grinned at her. "I risked life and limb saving you a cup, Linda. You'd better grab it before we're both attacked."

She gripped the camp mug and sipped at the strong brew, lifting her eyes to Ben. Since she had first laid eyes on him, several days back, he'd never seemed to change, always looking calm and collected and ready to tackle any situation.

"Welcome aboard, Linda," Ben said.

"Thank you."

"Jersey, did you check her out with the M-16?"

"She ... ah, did her best" Linda interjected, saving Jersey the explanation. "But I'm afraid I'm not very good."

"It'll come to you. Don't try to push it. When we bivouac this afternoon, I'll take you out and go through the steps with the weapon."

Jersey rolled her eyes and said a silent prayer for the general's safety.

"Uh ... thank you," Linda said. "I'd like that."

"Now then," Ben said. "Leadfoot and the Wolfpack have found survivors in Youreka. Several hundred of them. We're going to stop there for a time today and set up another outpost. Then we'll move on. For you people who weren't with us some years back, this is the second time the Rebels have been in this area. We went down the state to just north of San Francisco. We did not enter the city at that time." He paused and sighed.

"I want to warn you all of a few things. There are mutants in the area just south of us. There are also tribes of people who call themselves the Woods Children, headed by two young men named Ro and Wade comif they're still alive. And a tribe called the Underground P. Both of those are to the east of Interstate 5. They will see us. It's doubtful that we will see them unless they want us to. Leave them alone. They are for the most part peaceful people.

They have fought alongside us and they believe in ourways. They live in the forests and are caretakers of it. Personally I wish we had more like them. They are not meat-eaters. They educate their young properly, and when they need medical treatment or advice, they seek out some Rebel patrol or outpost.

"The mutants? Well ... leave them alone and they'll usually leave you alone. No one knows what caused them to be as they are. Perhaps they've always been here and they just avoided us. Perhaps the chemicals that poisoned the people had something to do with their growth. I don't know and neither does anyone else I've ever talked with."

He paused as Corrie announced a fresh pot of coffee was ready and they all poured and sugared and creamed. Ben said, "A question I've been asked is why didn't we encounter the warlords and creepies and street punks back then. For one thing, we didn't enter the cities and that's where they concentrate. And too, most of us were in mild shock because we'd been led to believe San Francisco and Los Angeles had taken nuclear hits and were gone. We just didn't have the time or the forces to move south."

Linda looked away. The others were listening, but she got the impression that this update was for her ears more than for anyone else.

"We're going to take our time on this sweep, people, and do it right. We're going to clear this state of crud and c.r.a.p, establish as many outposts as possible, and then stand down for the winter in preparation for the exploration of Alaska. Ike says there is a good possibility that there are adequate ships still anch.o.r.ed in ports in Alaska that are suitable for our use. If we find that is the case, we'll load up and head for Europe from Northstar. If not, it's back to the East Coast for us.

"All right, Coop, check out the wagon.

Corrie, advise all commanders we shove off at 0500. Linda, get your gear together and Beth will show you how we pack the wagon. Let's go, people, we've got a war to fight."

From the blue waters of the Pacific east to the Nevada line, main battle tanks began roaring into life; M-42 Dusters as well, almost pet.i.te next to the big MBT'S cranked up.

Dozens of tanker trucks, carrying precious fuel, made ready to pull out. Rebels broke camp, packed up, and tossed their gear into the backs of deuce-and-a-halfs and climbed in.

155mm self-propelled howitzers coughed into life and lumbered into their positions in the lines.

The RDF light tanks moved forward, most equipped with 75mm cannon, a few with 76mm cannon, which operate with about the same pressure as a 105mm.

"Scouts out?" Ben asked Corrie.

"Yes, sir. Colonel Gray sent his people out an hour ago. They're in position ranging three to five miles in front of the main columns."

"Load up and move to the front of the column,"Ben told his team. "I'll meet you up the line."

Ben walked from his quarters to the front of the long column, chatting with Rebels along the way, his M-14, affectionately referred to as a Thunder Lizard, slung on one shoulder.

"Come on, boys and girls!" Ben heard Sergeant Major Adamson roar. "Grandma moved faster than this."

"Here we go again, General!" a woman called from the cab of a truck.

"You bet, Jenny," Ben shouted back.

"Time to kick a.s.s and take names."

"What'd you do with the old sergeant major?" another Rebel shouted.

"I retired him to a desk back at Base Camp One. You all know and love Adamson."

Friendly boos and jeers greeted that, but Ben knew it meant nothing. Adamson was a former French Foreign Legionnaire who was all soldier and all Rebel. The men and women of the Rebel army liked and respected him.

Ben stopped by a light tank and looked up at the woman commander, her head sticking out of the open hatch.

"You sure you know how to drive this thing, Susie?"

He smiled with the verbal jab.

"h.e.l.l, no!" she fired back. "I just give the orders."

Ben laughed and patted the armor plate of the tank in reply and walked on.

The Rebels were made up of all races, all nationalities, all religions. The Rebel army knew no discrimination along racial, religious, or country-of-origin lines. It was not tolerated.

Ben Raines had also taken the theory that women had no place in combat and tossed it on the junk pile.

The Rebels did discriminate against human trash of any color, usually just as long as it took to put a bullet in them. But there were no haters of people of another race in the Rebel ranks. Of any color. No pre-judging of a person based solely on race or religion. The Rebels took each person as an individual and reserved judgment comif any-until later. Among the Rebels, there were chaplains representing all religions, from Hindu to Seventh-Day Adventists. Whenever there was a break in the action, most Rebels went to some sort of worship service. It was not required that they do so. Religion and the worshiping of one's G.o.d was a personal matter and n.o.body else's business.

Not everyone could or would comz was usually the case comadapt to the Rebel way. The old Tri-States had been harshly criticized because Ben had admitted that perhaps no more than one person out of five-if that many-could or would live under and by the simple rules that the Rebels adopted. It was true that the Rebels took the best of people and culled the rest. The rules were simple. One did not steal anything, ever. One didnot lie or cheat. You treated others fairly and with respect. You respected the land and the wild creatures that lived there. You respected the property of others. Loudmouths did not last long in the Rebel army. Bullies seldom made it through the first day. Those who were cruel to animals were not even considered. The Rebels were not perfect comfar from it comb they tried. That was what Ben demanded of himself, and he could ask no more from those who followed him.

"Move, Smoot," Ben said, getting into the big armor-plated wagon. The Husky pup jumped into the back and landed in Beth's lap.

"You ready to go to war, Coop?" Ben asked the driver.

"Beats the h.e.l.l out of a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, General."

"Give the orders, Corrie."

Hundreds of Rebels in tanks and trucks and Jeeps and Hummers and self-propelled artillery surged forward, moving across the Oregon line into Northern California.

In Crescent City, a warlord listened to radio transmissions from his forward observers. He paled.

"Holy s.h.i.t!" he said, looking around him at those who had chosen to follow the outlaw way.

"Ben Raines is on the move. The first bunch is about ten miles away and pushin' hard towards us.

Let's get the h.e.l.l out of here."

They grabbed whatever they could find that was readily at hand and got into their cars and trucks and roared south.

"This ain't legal!" one of the warlord's lieutenants said. "There ain't no justice in this. Ben Raines ain't got no right comin' in here and tellin' us what to do."

The warlord, who had called himself Larado for so many years he had difficulty remembering his Christian name, looked at the man, disgust in his eyes. "The Rebels don't pay no attention to that happy c.r.a.p, man. All that legal jive is out the window. Ben Raines is gonna bring back law and order and he's gonna do it at the point of a gun.

He'll roll right over anybody or anything that stands in his way."

"Where the h.e.l.l we gonna go?" The question was frantically tossed out.

"We got no choice. We got to head south to L.a. and link up with them gangs down there."

"Why not Frisco?"

Frisco is gonna do is delay but Frisco is "All them cats in Raines. They'll buy us some time, gonna fall. Bet on it, man."

"There is another choice" another outlaw said.

"Oh, yeah? What?"

"Stop the car."

The rusty and battered old car slid to a halt.

Laredo twisted in the seat. "What are you gonna do, man?"

"Find me a house, raise me a garden. Hunt some. And obey the laws that Ben Raines saysto obey."

"You chicken-s.h.i.t!" the driver sneered.

"Maybe," the man said, getting out and pulling his duffel out with him. "But I'll be alive and sittin'

on the front porch with a woman and some kids long after your bones have been picked clean by the rats.

See you boys." He walked into the timber by the side of the road.

"He's yeller!" a man sneered.

"Maybe," Laredo said. "And maybe he's smarter than all of us."

"Huh?"

"We gonna die, Slick. The days of the outlaw in the lower forty-eight is over. You all heard them radio transmissions from the Rebels the other day.

They told us we either lay down our guns now and surrender, or we die. They wasn't ki.in," boys. Make your minds up now."

"It's a big country, Laredo," he was reminded.

"It ain't big enough for us and Ben Raines. Let's go if we're goin". We got to find us a spot and dig in."

Ike and Cecil's troops pushed down to Crescent City and found it deserted. The troops under the command of Striganov and West pushed down to Alturas and found the town in ruins; no signs of life. Ben and his contingent rolled into Youreka and stood down while Ben met with the leader of the survivors in that area.

The town, once holding a population of six thousand, showed signs of many fierce battles, some of them quite recent. But it also had clean streets, neat homes, and many large, well-tended gardens.

Neatness and cleanliness were almost always a sign of people who refused to knuckle under to any kind of disaster and who were not content to sit around and b.i.t.c.h and moan while waiting for somebody else to help pull them up.

The leader of the group, a middle-aged man named Chuck, showed Ben the small but well-furnished clinic, the school, and all the other improvements, including electricity, sewage treatment, and water.

"There were other survivors in this area, Chuck,"

Ben said, consulting a clipboard. "George Williams from Chico. Another George from Red Bluff. Harris from Redding. Pete Ho from Ukiah. John Dunning from Santa Rosa."

Chuck shook his head. "Most of them are dead, General. At least as far as I know, they are.

Only Pete Ho and his bunch and me and mine held out, and Pete had to move his people over to near the state line. Near the Plumas National Forest. We talk to each other every week on the radio."

"That explains why we haven't been able to make contact with anybody." Ben lined out the names on the clipboard. "What happened to the movement out here?"

"It just fell apart, General. I believe it was Harris who was the first to refuse to use the death penalty. The outlaws took him out first. Then oneby one, the other groups were either destroyed or ran away. All except Pete's and this one."

It didn't surprise Ben. Only about half of the earlier outposts the Rebels had set up had survived. Their failure was due mostly to the breaking of the rules the Rebels had tried and tested over the years and found to work. Laws were not made to be broken. And people who broke them had to be punished. If not, the system-any system -- simply would not work.

They were hard rules, and only the strongest-willed could follow them. But weak people do not rebuild a nation after that nation's collapse. Doers rebuild nations, and then they help the weak.

"You have a fine town here, Chuck. I congratulate you. Give the list of any supplies you need to Beth here, and she'll get them for you."

"Right now, General, we're desperately short of ammo and reloading equipment."

Ben nodded at Chuck and waved at a Rebel, telling the man to supply Chuck with whatever he needed. Ammo was something the Rebels were never short of. Back at Base Camp One, factories ran around the clock, seven days a week, to keep the field troops supplied.

"Corrie, b.u.mp Georgi and advise him that Pete Ho is alive and will probably need supplies. There is an airstrip at Susanville. We'll make that a drop-off point for that sector."

"Yes, sir."

"Chuck, what can you tell me about Redding?"

"A lot of gangs working out of there. It's outlaw headquarters for this part of the state."

"What's between here and there?"

"Nothing, General. And I mean nothing."