"We're under attack from the south!" Brodermann said, jumping to his feet.

Hoffman ran for the office and reached it just as an aide opened it from the other side. The door impacted with Hoffman's nose and knocked him sprawling to the floor, his beak b.l.o.o.d.y. The aide stood frozen, horrified at what he'd done."Idiot!" Brodermann yelled at the young man. "Fool! You've injured the Field Marshal. What the h.e.l.l do you want?"

"We ... we're being attacked from the west, sir!"

"From the west? What the h.e.l.l are you blathering about? Are you deaf as well as stupid? We're being attacked from the south. G.o.dd.a.m.n it, can't you hear?"

"From the west, too, sir," the aide blurted. Field Marshal 220.

Hoffman was just getting unceremoniously to his feet, grabbing at a chair for support, his nose clearly broken and spurting blood. "The garrison just radioed. They cannot hold and are falling back to our position."

"My no' is 'oken," Jesus Hoffman said. "s.h.i.t!"

A fat colonel came running into the outer office and tried to stop. The floor of the old home was slick tile, and his leather-soled boots could find no traction. He slammed into the aide, the aide slammed into Brodermann, and Brodermann slammed into Field Marshal Hoffman. All of them went slipping and sliding and tumbling to the floor. For a few seconds, it looked like the Three Stooges meets Danny Kaye.

"We're under ma.s.sive attack from the north!" the colonel hollered.

"Get off me, you elephant!" Brodermann yelled.

'"et off of 'e!" Hoffman shouted, spraying everybody with blood.

An SS officer came running in. He stood for a moment in the doorway, his mouth hanging open and his face registering his shock.

"What the h.e.l.l do you want?" Brodermann screamed.

"Ah ... why, ah, General Schleyer says he is under attack at the San Antonio airport. Why are you all on the floor? What has happened to the Field Marshal?"

Captain Blickle came running in. He blinked at the scene on the office floor. He shook his head and decided it wasn't any of his business. For the moment, at least. "Scouts from General Mohnhaupt's Seventh Division say Rebels are lined up north to south in ma.s.sive numbers along Highway 281. They have begun sh.e.l.ling his command." He paused. "What are all you people doing on the floor?"

221.

Before anyone could reply-not that anyone was about to-several artillery rounds landed a few hundred yards from Hoffman's HQ. The explosions blew out all the windows on that side of the house and tore off part of the old roof. Captain Blickle joined the others on the floor.

"Odd.a.m.nit!" Hoffman yelled. '"Et off me!"

The rattle of automatic weapons could now be clearly heard."Rebels!" someone outside screamed. "Thousands of them. El Lobo is leading the charge."

Brodermann lurched to his feet. "If I hear El Lobo one more time," he shouted. "I'll shoot the son of a b.i.t.c.h who said it."

Together, they all managed to get Jesus Hoffman to his unsteady feet and out the door. "Get the Field Marshal to safety," Brodermann ordered.

"Where?" Captain Blickle demanded, looking around him at the panicked troops, confusion and the exploding artillery rounds.

"How the h.e.l.l should I know?" Brodermann shouted. "Just get him out of here. Move, G.o.dd.a.m.nit!"

Blickle and the still nose-bleeding Hoffman rushed to a waiting car and jumped in the back seat. The driver sped off. Brodermann looked around for some of his SS troops, then realized they were miles to the north and probably helping contain the charge of Rebels up there.

"d.a.m.nit!" he swore. "Who would have guessed Raines would do something like this?"

Brodermann finally and forever, in the span of only a few seconds, realized that one simply could not second-guess Ben Raines. If you made ready for the norm, he would throw something at you completely off the wall.

222.

Expect something totally unorthodox, and Raines would hand you something right out of a military textbook.

Then Brodermann looked on in amazement as the Rebels began slowing and stopping their vehicles, troops dismounting and engaging the Blackshirts in hand-to-hand combat. "No!" he shouted. "This simply cannot be!"

But it was happening, and Brodermann suddenly got that message and looked around for any officer. He saw one. He jerked his pistol out of the holster and tried to rally the panicked troops. One tried to run past him, all wild-eyed and scared, and Brodermann shot the man. That got the attention of several people. "Throw up a line!" he shouted.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n you, listen to me. Throw up a line and hold it."

He got the attention of several sergeants, and they quickly began to shout and kick some order back into the troops. A line was thrown up and slowly some semblance of soldiering began to take place. The fighting was now going to be house to house and very close up.

Ben jumped over the sandbags around a machine gun emplacement, jerked the dead body away from an unfamiliar but heavy machine gun, and st.i.tched a deuce and a half from radiator to midway of the bed. Every third or fourth round loaded into the belt must have been incendiary, for the truck exploded and sent body parts flying all over the place.

Jersey and Corrie jumped into the pit with him and Cooper began helping with the belt while Corrie was trying to raise other battalions for a battle a.s.sessment.

Ben grinned at her. "When you get Ike, tell him we're having fun downhere and wish he could join us!"

Corrie ignored him. She'd been with Ben for years 223.

and nothing he ever did surprised her. She finally yelled, "It was a total surprise, General. All battalions on all fronts reporting we really caught them with their pants down."

"Casualties?" Ben yelled, after cutting down three running Blackshirts.

He rested his hands from the heavy jarring of the machine gun.

"Very light."

"Give me a status report on conditions right here, Come," Ben requested.

After a moment, she said, "We're stretched out along a line approximately three miles wide. Artillery wants to know should they sh.e.l.l the town?"

"Negative," Ben quickly told her. "h.e.l.l, we're on the outskirts of the d.a.m.n town. Tell the batteries to advance to within a few miles of us and set up and wait for orders."

That done, Ben said, "Come, give the orders to go over the top, people.

Let's go, let's go, let's go!" And he jumped out of the sandbagged pit and took off running.

"Jesus!" Cooper said, and took off after him, Jersey and Beth and Corrie right on his heels.

Brodermann took one look at the advancing Rebels and cursed as he shook his head. He knew with a soldier's sixth sense that to stand and face that would be pointless. "Fall back!" he shouted. "Fall back to those woods north of town. Move. Quickly, now."

"Secure the town and then advance no further," Ben panted the orders, squatting down behind a brick house.

When he had caught his breath, and Corrie had issued the orders, Ben said, "Set me up a CP and rig for long range transmission, Corrie. Tell supply to get our 224.

uniforms ready for us. From tiger stripe to desert cammie. We're back in business!"

When the major five-front offensive was launched by the Rebels in Texas, those Rebel contingents in California, Arizona, and New Mexico rushed the Blackshirts on the other side of the border, while General Payon's guerilleros struck them from the south and the worshipers of n.a.z.ism were caught by surprise. No prisoners were taken.

General Cecil Jefferys sat in his command post at Base Camp One with a smile on his face. He had felt all along that when everything fell into place enough to satisfy Ben's mind, he would quit playing cat and mouse all over the state of Texas and really step in close and slap the c.r.a.p out of Hoffman. And he had done just that.Cecil made a mental note to go see Ben's ,dogs that afternoon and play with them for a time. He knew they missed Ben terribly and he needed the exercise anyway.

"Give 'em h.e.l.l, Ben," Cecil said.

Hoffman and the remnants of his First Division managed to slip through the thin northern lines, running west to east, and hurriedly thrown up by Striganov, West, and Danjou. Hoffman's Second and Third divisions were being held right where they were by Payon, Gomez, Jim Peters, and Ned Hawkins's Texas Rangers. Hoffman's Sixth and Seventh Divisions were taking a real pounding from the battalions of Dan Gray, Tina Raines, Pat O'Shea, Greenwalt, and Malone. Hoffman's Fourth and Fifth Divisions ma.s.sed and overran 225.

Danjou's position on the eastern edge of the front and pushed into the clear into northern Texas.

Ben ordered those contingents coming from the west to angle south and link up with Raul Gomez who was holding east and west of either side of Highway 277. He also ordered everyone back into uniform and pulled out all the tanks and artillery he'd been holding in reserve.

To the north, Ike ordered teams out to blow all bridges along the Canadian River from the New Mexico line over into Oklahoma, and Cecil sent teams from Base Camp One to blow the bridges along the Canadian from Oklahoma City to the Arkansas line.

Ben leaned back in a rat-chewed old recliner Cooper had found for him and smiled. "Now, Hoffman, you goose-stepping d.i.c.khead. Now, let's see you wriggle your way out of this one."

"The Field Marshal does not wish to be disturbed," an aide told the tough paratroop General.

General Jahn looked at the young man and smiled. "Get out of my way, you strutting little REM, before I physically remove you."

The aide bl.u.s.tered, but stepped out of the way. "Sir," he said. "What is a REM?"

Jahn smiled. "It's an American expression. It means Rear Echelon Mother-f.u.c.ker." He stepped into the office and closed the door behind him.

Hoffman's nose had been set and a piece of tape placed across it. He looked at Jahn for a moment. "Well, General Jahn, what is it?"

"Consider surrender terms, Field Marshal," the general said without hesitation.

226.

Hoffman blinked. "Have you lost your d.a.m.n mind, General?"

"No," Jahn replied shortly. He walked to a sideboard, poured a snifter of brandy, and drank it down.Far too much brandy, Hoffman noticed. And without taking the time to savor the delicate bouquet. The man was utterly without breeding.

"But it's time to consider our position," Jahn said, his back to the Field Marshal. He poured another brandy, and this time swirled the liquid about and gave it time to breathe a bit.

Then, Hoffman noticed, he knocked it back like a d.a.m.n drunken roustabout.

"It's better than it was a few days ago," Hoffman said.

"h.e.l.l would have been better for us than then," Jahn said. He spoke his mind and d.a.m.n the consequences. He was a professional soldier, not a diplomat. He turned, facing Hoffman. "Field Marshal, consider this: Eighth Division is pinned down in the ruins of San Antonio. Raines'

Rebels there have now been beefed up by about a thousand Mexican guerrillas. Schleyer cannot get out. The Rebels have blown every bridge, every overpa.s.s, in a circle around the city. The Eighth is trapped and we cannot get supplies in to them. They are doomed. They will fight until their ammunition is gone, and then they will be forced to surrender."

"We will be victorious up here and then send relief columns to break them out!" Hoffman shouted.

"You're living in a dream world, Field Marshal."

Hoffman jumped to his feet. "You do not speak to me in such a manner!"

"I offer you the truth while your staff officers shield 227.

you and tell you only things they know you want to hear. And you know that is the truth."

Hoffman sat back down and pouted for a moment. He lifted his eyes and looked at General Jahn. "Surrender is repugnant. Absolutely unacceptable."

"Raines is a warrior, a first cla.s.s fighting man and brilliant tactician, but he is also an honorable man." Jahn sat down in a chair in front of Hoffman's desk. "Field Marshal, you know I only pay lip service to the teachings of Hitler. I am not a n.a.z.i and never have been. No matter what you tell other people or personally think about me, and I know you think you have converted me, I shall never be a n.a.z.i. What am I, what I have been all my life is a fighting man. I am a soldier. You are a student of history, Field Marshal, so think back. Not to the lies and half-truths you were taught as a boy, but to the real truth that you later discovered. The entire world rallied together, seventy years ago, against the man you worship. And now this shattered world is doing the same thing against us. There will be more countries coming in, Field Marshal. Trust me. My intelligence people have monitored other nations'

transmissions, and even though they have internal problems of their own, they are putting forces together to a.s.sist the Rebels. Even as we speak.

I personally don't think they will arrive here in time; I think we will be but a memory before long. But the G.o.ds of war are fickle- they might choose to smile on us for a change. Who knows?"

Hoffman stared at the general for a long moment. His first thought was to immediately relieve the man of command. But he quickly put that out of his mind. Jahn was a fine commander and a brilliant tactician. His men228 would follow him through the gates of h.e.l.l without question. True, the forces of the NAL had suffered a setback, but not one that was insurmountable. He must convince Jahn of that. He needed the paratroop general. Needed him very badly.

"I will not consider surrender, General Jahn," Hoffman reiterated.

Jahn shrugged his shoulders. "In that case, Field Marshal, I am certain that most of my men will fight to the death. But I will not order them to do that."

"You do not believe in our cause, General?" Jahn smiled. "You mean the torture and oppression and slavery of people, Field Marshal?"

"I am doing no more than Ben Raines is doing," Hoffman replied.

Jahn met Hoffman's eyes. The man is crazy, the paratrooper thought. Why couldn't I see that months ago? He knew the answer to that even before the thought cleared his mind. He saw it. He just ignored it.

"Anything else, General Jahn?"

The paratrooper was silent for a few heartbeats. He shook his head and rose to his boots. "No, Field Marshal. There is nothing else."

"Dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

Hoffman threw out his left arm. "Heil Hitler!" Jahn looked at him.

"s.h.i.t!" he said, and left the room.

229.

Chapter Six.Corrie looked up, surprise on her face. "General!" she called to Ben, seated across the room, his eyes poring over maps.

Ben removed his reading gla.s.ses and looked over at her. "Yes, Corrie?"

"General Jahn on the horn, sir."

Ben quickly walked the distance and took the mic. "Ben Raines here."

"This is General Jahn. I wish to discuss surrender terms, General Raines."

"On the air?"