Food for his people was going to be a problem very quickly.

When he hit the sh.o.r.es of America, he had plans to overrun Ben's Base Camp One. Then that was very quickly nixed when he learned that Ben had nuclear weapons there, and that everything in Base Camp One was wired to explode in the event the zone was ever overrun by enemy forces. So that much needed source of food was out of reach.

Twelve thousand people ate up a lot of food every day.

And he had no idea where he was to get more. Kenny Parr had huge farms in Florida, but getting food up was a dangerous operation, for Raines had Rebel patrols working everywhere around the nation. One convoy had already been ambushed and the food taken. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and b.i.t.c.hes were across the river dining on their food right now. He hoped they all choked on their greens and blackeyed peas and lima beans.

The mere thought of defeat was a bitter pill for Lan to swallow. And when he did get it down, it lay like a lump in his belly.

Villar had known that Raines was well-organized; but he had not known just how well. Until it was too late . . . now there was no turning back.

He had thought of and then discarded the idea of scouring the countryside and taking civilian hostages; perhaps to coerce Raines into letting the food trucks through. But he knew that Raines did not negotiate with terrorists -- ever. Another plan out the window.

For the very first time, Lan Villar began to realize just what kind of a man he was facing. In his own way, Ben Raines was perhaps more ruthless than Villar.

While the Rebels did not rape and pillage and plunder, Raines and his Rebels did not have one ounce of pity or compa.s.sion in their souls for anyone who fought against their dream of rebuilding the shattered nation that was once called America.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l, Ben Raines!" Lan Villar cursed him.

Across the river, Ben looked at his plate of fresh vegetables and smiled. Corn on the cob, navy beans, and hot cornbread.

"Compliments of Kenny Parr," Jersey told him.

"Maybe we should send him a thank-you note." "Corrie," Ben said around a mouthful of food.

"Send Villar a message. Tell him many thanks for the fresh vegetables, and advise him that a university here once did a study. They concluded that rats were full of protein and when cooked correctly were quite tasty. Tell him I suggest he try dining on rodents."

When his runner handed him the message, Villar became livid with rage. He screamed out his anger and then ripped the paper to shreds and flung the remnants around the room. "I hate that son of a b.i.t.c.h!" he shouted, his fists clenched.

"Join the club," Khamsin said, looking down at the goop on his plate the officers" personal cooks had prepared for them.

"You know what he's doing," Kenny said softly.

"He's waiting us out. He's guessed that by now we're on short rations, so he's pushing us to attack him out of desperation. And we're not far from doing that. If we don't attack, and do so successfully, we're going to have to fall back."

"Fall back to where?"

Villar demanded, but with no rancor in his voice. "Anyway, we agreed to stay here until this Sister Voleta nut got her forces together and attacked from the west. I never, never expected Raines to blow the bridges. I never did that in Europe. Once they are gone, they are gone forever . . . at least in our lifetimes. We're facing a madman!" He shuddered and regained control. "No," his voice was softer. "No. Raines is not a madman. He is brilliantly ruthless. And he is a man who would see this nation restored no matter what the cost. If I thought he would even remotely entertain the idea, I would ..." He trailed that off.

But Khamsin had already guessed what he was about to say. "Forget it," the Libyan said. "Ben Raines makes no deals with terrorists. Or at least none that I know of. And you are forgetting your archenemy across the river, Colonel Daniel Gray."

"Yes," Villar said softly. "Dan Gray swore on his sister's grave he would kill me."

"Why does he hate you so?" Kenny asked.

"I had agreed to do some contract work for a offshoot of the IRA back in, oh, eighty-five or eighty-six. I made the mistake, and it was a mistake, of kidnapping some schoolchildren in London. One of the girls was the sister of Dan Gray. All we had been told was that they were relatives of SAS men. She was raped." He shrugged his indifference to that. "Many times. She did not die well. I had learned that she was Gray's sister and tape-recorded the rapes. I sent the tape to him. I was younger then and much more arrogant. I made a mistake. That mistake almost cost me my life. Gray stalked me halfway around the world and shot me with his own d.a.m.nable brand of hand-loaded ammo. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had sealed cobra venom into the tip. I was near death and paralyzed on one side for months. Don't ever sell Dan Gray short.

As a matter of fact, don't sell any Rebel commander short. Ike McGowan is a former Navy SEAL. Murderous b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!

West is ex-Ffl. Cecil Jefferys is ex-Green Beret. He isn't as ruthless as Ben Raines, but he is a far better administrator.

Word that I've received is that Raines is going to turn the whole operation over to him in the very near future. Can you imagine that? A n.i.g.g.e.r running the country?"

Ben called for a final meeting of his commanders just hours before the teams of paratroopers took off from the airstrip at St. Clair. "Dan will be taking off in two hours, people. At 0600 hours in the morning, we shall begin sh.e.l.ling the other side of the river with our long-range artillery.

Jersey will give you all the coordinates. Do not overshoot. To do that will endanger Dan and his troopers. Ike dropped sappers in two days ago to mine overpa.s.ses and bridges on Interstates Sixty-four and 55/70, east of Villar's positions. As soon as the sh.e.l.ling starts, they'll blow their targets and get the h.e.l.l out of there, moving north and south respectively. It is my hope that with the bombardment, the sappers' work will not be noticed. That leaves Highway Fifty open to Villar and the others. If he takes it, our plan will work and we'll be rid of a lot of terrorists.

If he smells a rat comand he just might-we'll be sitting on this side of the river with our thumbs up our a.s.ses while Dan and his people are facing the real possibility of getting mauled."

Ben took a drink of water and then moved to a wall map. "Villar and his people are not going to move far. I'm betting they'll move just out of range of our big pieces and reorganize. Their storage depots are going to be blown to h.e.l.l and gone. He split them up and located them between Belleville and Highway Fifty, and the second one between Highway Fifty and Collinsville. Those are two more reasons I'm betting h.e.l.l head out on Highway Fifty.

"The next logical stop for him is here." He pointed to a town on the map. "Just about ten miles outside the city. It was a town of about twelve or fifteen thousand before the war. If any of you are the praying types, pray that he does choose this particular town."

Ike was smiling. "Dan and his people are all going to be carrying about fifty pounds of cannisters, right, Ben?

You've decided to do it?"

"That's right. In addition, fifty others in this drop will be carrying rocket launchers and our own lab peoples' version of the old Dragon ant.i.tank weapon. The new ones are lighter and pack more of a wallop. They are also able to launch other types of warheads. Our weather people say the winds will be blowing from west to east that morning."

West chuckled, Ike laughed outloud, and Cecil smiled grimly. Cecil looked at Dan and said, "You people have your shot-kits, Dan?"

"Oh, yes," the Englishman replied.

Doctor Chase pointed a finger at him. "Dan, a few minutes before you fire the gas cannisters, you people inject yourselves. Any trooper who loses his or her kit, or it gets damaged in the drop, get them out of that area immediately, north or south."

"Yes, Doctor Chase."

"The gas will become useless in six to eight minutes," Chase continued, "causing only a mild sickness that will soon pa.s.s. But for six to eight minutes, it will kill any living thing it comes in contact with. Only the injection prevents it from doing its work."

Ben pointed to the map. "This large lake is approximately forty-five miles from the target site. The winds will be nearly calm; no more than two to four miles per hour. We antic.i.p.ate no damage to the lake and its inhabitants, or to any other existing water supply outside of the town.

"There is an old Air Force base southeast of the town. Part of Dan's drop will include a team to clear a runway there. Now then, another team will go in by plane as soon as Dan gives the signal -- whether that signal is mission accomplished or send help." Ben smiled. "I shall be personally leading that other team."

The commanders of battalion, company, and platoon all came to their boots at that statement. "No way, Ben!" Ike shouted over the hubbub of voices. "I'll take that other team in."

The mercenary, West, with a cast on one ankle, was in no position to lead, but he did shout, "My XO will take the team in."

"I'm second in command here!" Cecil roared.

"If anybody fronts that other team, I will."

In the back of the room, Jerre stood with Jersey, both of them with smiles on their faces. They knew that Ben was going to lead the other team in, and that was that.

Ben sat back down behind his desk and rolled a cigarette, waiting for all the uproar to calm.

Dan leaned against a wall, sipping at the cup of fresh-brewed tea his batman had brought him.

Chief Doctor Lamar Chase was sputtering like a four-cylinder engine hitting on two, and waving his arms around. n.o.body was paying any attention to anybody else.

Another thirty seconds and the uproar had quieted to a low mutter of agitated voices.

"Now that everyone has vented their spleen," Ben said, "let's settle down and return to business. One: are the boats ready, Ike?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Ike said disgustedly. "We've got them hidden behind Mosenthein Island. We can have the third team across the river and in Illinois in a matter of minutes. But it's going to take another eighteen to twenty hours to rig up ferries for the heavier stuff."

"That's all right, Ike. Light mortars and .50's will do. As soon as you receive my signal, start the Dusters west. Main battle tanks, self-propelled, and vehicle-towed artillery will leave as soon as your third team determines the enemy forces in Illinois have had it. West, you will start your westward pullout an hour behind the main battle tanks and artillery. Cecil's battalion will remain in the city and begin laying explosives. Ike will stay with me east of the river until we've cleaned it out."

Ben looked at the crowd of men and women. "If we can pull this off, we can break the backs of Villar, Khamsin, and Parr in a matter of minutes. If they don't take the bait, we're in deep s.h.i.t. Keep up normal radio traffic so as not to alarm those across the river. That's it, people.

Good luck."

Ben and his team drove to the airstrip at St.

Clair, Doctor Chase in a vehicle behind Ben's wagon. The young paratroopers were in high spirits, laughing and cracking jokes as they struggled into their harnesses. Ben walked up and down the line, talking for a few seconds to each member of Dan's a.s.sault team. Doctor Chase was right behind him, making certain each trooper had his or her inoculation kit against the deadly gas, and then giving each one a smile and a pat on the arm.

Dan walked up, or waddled up would be more like it, equipment hanging all over him. "We're ready to load, General."

"The gas cannisters are packed securely?" Ben asked, for the tenth time.

Dan smiled. "The queen's china would come through this drop without a chip, sir. Even should there be a chute malfunction, the cannisters will not break open.

We've tested them repeatedly."

"Ill see you across the river, Dan. Good luck."

Ben turned and walked back to the armor-plated and bulletproofed gla.s.sed wagon, Jerre walking with him.

"All this talk about securing hospitals and aid stations and digging in deep was a ruse, wasn't it, Ben?" She asked. "You knew all along this was what you were going to do." The last was not a question. "That's correct, Jerre. But only four of us knew it. Lamar didn't even know what was going down until yesterday. Villar has spotters across the river, watching our every move. It was all done for his benefit."

"When we go to Europe, Ben,"-and Ben picked up on the we, com8are you taking poisonous gas?"

"Yes. I resisted it for years, Jerre. And perhaps I was wrong in doing so. The cost of Rebel lives in combatting this vermin was what convinced me to change my mind. We just can't afford to unnecessarily lose good, decent people fighting crud. However, it's taken our lab people years to perfect this gas; reducing its killing time down to a matter of only a few minutes and protecting the environment. I've also got them working on gas that will kill humans but not animals. They say they're close. I hope so. The animals have had a tough enough time without us adding to their misery."

Jerre did not have to add that Ben was a strange and complex man. She knew that Ben's philosophy was that it was wrong to blame an animal for being an animal. They could not help what G.o.d had made them. But humans could. Animals had no choice; humans did. Humans had the capacity to think and reason, but if they chose not to exercise that ability, to h.e.l.l with them.

Ben saw no point in keeping them around.

Ben Raines was hard and tough and in many ways, totally ruthless. The one thing that he absolutely could not and would not abide was ignorance when enlightenment was right in front of the person, readily accessible, and the party would not take ad- vantage of it.

Ben had more than his share of compa.s.sion for the very young and the very old, and for G.o.d's lesser creatures of the animal kingdom. He was totally void of compa.s.sion for human trash of any color.

He had told his doctors and scientists that if he ever learned of them using animals for experimentation, he would personally kill that person comon the spot.

Being learned men and women, and knowing that Ben never made idle threats, they knew to take his warning to heart and keep it close.

The second team to land in Illinois would, like Dan's troopers, be carrying a heavy load of equipment. But if the operation proved successful, they would not have to carry it back, for the vehicles of Villar and Khamsin and Parr would be their's for the taking. If the operation was unsuccessful, none of Ben's team would have to worry about it. For the chances were very good that most of them would be dead.

Ben met with Cecil alone in his CP. The planes carrying Dan and his troopers were airborne, the jumpers would be exiting the door in minutes.

"If the operation is not successful, Cecil, pull your people out immediately and head south for Base Camp One. The commanders of the three battalions west of us have the same orders. Do not comrepeat: do not - attempt to mount any rescue across the river. The Rebel army will stand without me. But it has to have a leader. That's you. If we blow the operation, appoint West your second in command and start over."

He smiled at his old friend. "h.e.l.l, Cec, we might as well keep it in the family, since I keep getting signals that West is going to marry my daughter."

Cecil did not argue the orders. The two men shared a quiet laugh and a drink of whiskey.

"The chaplains are holding a quiet ceremony this evening, Ben. Praying for the success of this operation.

Every Rebel knows the seriousness of what's going down."

After Cecil had left to return to his own sector, Ben poured another drink, added a dash of water- the few months he'd spent back at Base Camp One had spoiled him: he'd gotten used to ice cubes and now missed them comand leaned back in his chair, thinking.

Dan and his troopers had been on the ground for over an hour. They had landed undetected. If there had been any type of fire-fight, Ben would have been notified immediately by radio. So phase one had gone without a hitch. Dan and his troopers were now marching toward their destination, and knowing Dan, he was driving himself just as hard, or harder, than any of his people.

Ben turned his swivel chair so he faced the east.

"Come on, Dan. Get in position and say a prayer that Villar and his bunch take the right highway."

The next morning.

0500 hours.

"All right, lads and la.s.sies!" Dan rousted his people from a deep, almost exhausted sleep. "Get your Tommy Cookers out and light your tabs." He grinned at a grimy-faced young Rebel and affected a c.o.c.kney accent. "Get ye char abilin'." "Do we heat up our MRE'S, Colonel?"

another asked, knowing very well what the answer would be.

"Not a chance, me boy. Heat up your coffee and douse the tab. Cold rations for us all."

"I got meatb.a.l.l.s," a Rebel said.

"Anybody want to trade?"

"I got tuna and noodles," another said.

"Anything is better than meatb.a.l.l.s for breakfast. Here, catch, and toss me yours."

While the Heximine tabs were heating the water, Dan walked up and down the line, inspecting each trooper's inoculation kit. Then he settled down to drink his morning tea (a carefully h.o.a.rded supply of Earl Gray Breakfast tea he had found in a warehouse; he would have enjoyed some cream but one can't have everything in the field) and eat his cold MRE'S. Chicken stew. For breakfast.

After eating, he carefully buried the wrappings from the MRE'S'-NO Rebel littered unless it was necessary-and chewed his gum. These weren't really the MRE'S American GF'S used in "Nam, but a newer creation from the Rebel's lab people down at Base Camp One . . . they might have been newer and contain more vitamins and so forth, but they weren't any better. Light was touching the eastern sky when Dan said, "Let's get into position, gang."

0555 hours.

The landing strip at St. Clair.

The planes" engines were silent; they would not start their warm-up until the artillery began their barrage. Ben and his people stood on the runway, all of them loaded with equipment.

Buddy was standing beside his father and his sister, and the young man was p.i.s.sed.