286 Ben gave Moi and Wink the benefit of the doubt and waited until 0605. Then he turned to Corrie, standing to his left. "Drop them in, Corrie."

From miles away, the big guns of the Rebels boomed. When the first of the almost one-hundred-pound sh.e.l.ls struck, Wink and Moi knew that enormous blast signaled the beginning of the end of their twin racist dreams.

Ammunition was no problem for the Rebels. With thousands of rounds already stockpiled all over the nation, they had, in addition, thousands of rounds seized from the Blackshirt army. And Ben really walloped the positions of Moi and Wink. He kept up the barrage for six hours, with no let-up, turning the land in front of him into a smoking, h.e.l.lish, no-man's-land of pockmarked earth and burning buildings.

The gun crews would stagger fire for half an hour, then the crews would stand down, hook up, and move forward a mile or so, and repeat their performance. At noon they had advanced to within sight of the eastern side of I-65. Ben called a halt to the artillery barrage.

When the 105s and 155s ceased their booming, and the area had turned eerily silent, Ben ordered helicopter gunships and PUFFs to go in and strafe and rocket any-, thing that moved.

Ben was determined to keep his own casualties down to a bare bones minimum. The lives of ten thousand Moi Samburas and Wink Paynes were not worth one Rebel loss.

At two o'clock that afternoon, Ben ordered the choppers and the PUFFs back to their temporary bases and told his people to mount up and advance.Not one shot was fired at them as they crossed the interstate into Moi's claimed land. That land was now a 287.

smoking ruin, with a mangled body, or part of a body, littering the ground every few hundred yards. Wink and his people had scrambled across the interstate, fleeing from the crashing artillery rounds, and had run straight into the guns of Moi's front line defenders. While the explosions boomed all around them, raining down fire and death, the two groups fought each other in hand to hand combat, with pistols and rifles and shotguns and knives and hatchets.

"Idiots," Ben said, standing in the midst of the body-strewn carnage.

"They sure hated each other, didn't they?" Coop remarked, looking down at a dead black hand still gripping a white neck, and a white hand still closed around a black throat. Both hands were stiff in death.

"Maybe this was the only way it could end," Beth said.

"But if Moi and Wink made it out," Jersey added, "it isn't over."

"All right," Ben said, adjusting the chin strap to his helmet. "Let's end it."

The Rebels broke into squad-sized units and stretched out from the deserted towns of Lester in the north to Flat Creek in the south and slowly began working their way west, in the tedious and dangerous job of house to house searching and mopping up.

Ben and his team found two black males and two white males huddled together in the bas.e.m.e.nt of a country home. They were tired, dirty, hungry, scared, and weaponless.

"For folks who claim they don't like each other," Jersey said, prodding them to their feet with the muzzle of her M-16, "you're sure sitting mighty close. Move!"

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Outside, the quartet squinted and blinked in the light of the sun. "I think they're suffering from battle fatigue," she told Ben.

"How could they be suffering from that?" Beth asked. "They didn't fight!"

"That one's covered with dried blood," Ben said, pointing to one of Moi's men. "Have the medics check him out."

"It isn't my blood," the man stated. "The building I was in took a hit from one of your artillery rounds. I'm the only survivor. I was literally splattered with the blood of my brothers." He stared defiantly at Ben. "Now their blood is on your hands."

"I can live with it," Ben told him. He looked at Wink's men. "What's your story?"

"You had no right," one said."I'm trying to put this nation back together, pal," Ben replied. "And if I have to kill every sorry son of a b.i.t.c.h like you four to do that, I will. And I'll have no regrets about it. Get them out of here."

It took over a thousand people two weeks of hard searching to cover the area. There was no sign of Moi or Wink. Of course, that didn't mean anything. Many of the dead had been ripped apart by the hundreds and hundreds of artillery rounds, burned to unrecognizable char in blazing buildings, or buried forever under tons of crushing rubble.

"I'd bet they made it out," Ben said. "Their kind is hard to kill.

They'll pop up somewhere, spewing their venomous hate. We'll see them again."

The survivors of the attack, black and white, mostly women and kids, had elected spokespeople. They came to see Ben, asking about their future.

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"That's up to you," he told them. "If you want to stay here and work together, rebuilding, we'll help you all we can. If you want to go on hating each other, well, I can't stop you from doing that, either. But if you choose that route, I can tell you what you'll get from us.

Nothing. Zero. You will get not one aspirin or antibiotic from my medical people. You will be totally alone. You will not receive food, protection, or any other type of a.s.sistance from us. And we'll take the younger kids with us right now. Before any of you have the time to poison their minds with bigotry. Think about that. Give it a lot of thought before you reach any decision."

About half of them, nearly an equal number of black and white, agreed to stay and rebuild. Franklin Sharp and several dozen other men, black and white, ranging in age from twenty to eighty, had already agreed to stay.

The other men and women, both black and white, sullen and with hate-filled eyes, told those remaining to go to h.e.l.l. They left, the blacks in one group, the whites in another, each looking for their own peculiar version of Utopia on earth.

"What do you suppose will happen to them, Ben Raines?" Franklin Sharp asked.

"Oh, they'll seek some isolated spot and squat, and there they'll fester in their own hatred. Others like them will find them and they'll grow.

In numbers, not in mentality. Someday in the future the Rebels, or the organized law of that time will have to go in and fight them. Some people change, others don't. Those that don't take their hate to the grave."

"You should teach, Ben Raines," the old man said.

"I'm too much of an arch-conservative to teach, Franklin."

290.

"Oh, I don't think so, Ben Raines. You are somewhat of an enigma, to be sure. But I have doubts that you even know exactly what you are. Except for being the man who rose out of the ashes of destruction and is attempting to pull a nation back together. You are most definitely that."

"But am I right or wrong, Franklin?" Ben asked.

"Only the writers of history can be the judge of that, Ben Raines. Wewill be no more than dust in a lonely and forgotten grave when that question shall be answered." He held out his hand. "Good luck to you, Ben Raines."

White hand shook black hand. "And good luck to you, Franklin Sharp."

The Rebels mounted up and pulled out as engineers and doctors and road-builders and others from Base Camp One pulled in.

Ike had radioed in. All resistance in Texas had been crushed by the Rebels and their multinational allies. Hoffman and Brodermann had slipped out, that had been confirmed.

"We'll have to fight them again," Ben said, as the convoy rolled westward toward Arkansas and Thermopolis's command, dug in deep in a mountain.

None of Ben's team had to ask where Hoffman would recruit his army. They knew. From the hundreds of thousands of malcontents scattered all over the nation. People of all races who hated Ben Raines and his Rebels and the authority they represented.

"When we get set up tonight, Corrie," Ben said. "Have Ike send out teams all over the nation. We've got to start rebuilding outposts, and this time we'll make them stronger and with more people per post."

"Yes, sir."

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"We'll use Jahn's people to start new outposts all over the nation, Beth," Ben added. "And that will keep them widely separated until we can weed out any n.a.z.i's who have infiltrated his bunch," Ben added, knowing, as Jahn had confided in him, that there were hard-core SS people in his group, put there deliberately by Hoffman and Brodermann. Jahn just didn't know who they were. But he had suspicions.

"Jahn might not like that," Jersey said.

"It was his idea," Ben said with a smile. "Jahn wants to live in a free society, where he can enjoy the books he wants to read, newspapers that don't carry the party line, and where he can engage in open, spirited debate. And the man wants to farm his own piece of ground. Some of his staff officers told me Jahn had one of the most beautiful flower gardens they'd ever seen. You just never know about a person."

"Yeah," Cooper said. "Hitler played the harmonica."

"Cooper!" Jersey said.

"It's true! I read it in a book."

"General!" Corrie said, and the urgency in her voice stopped the bantering. "Thermopolis is under heavy attack. He's holding, but says he can only hold out for another twenty-four hours at most."

Ben lifted a map. "We roll all night, change drivers every two hours.

Corrie, tell the trucks pulling the artillery to catch up when they can.

Who is attacking Therm?""Therm says he doesn't have the faintest idea. But they're throwing everything but the mop bucket at him."

"Tell him to hang on. We're on the way."

292.

Chapter Twelve.The convoy bulled their way through the night until about midnight, when the skies opened up and began a torrential rain on them; a hard rain that slowed the convoy down to a careful creep. The roads were in horrible shape anyway. After years of neglect, they were full of ruts and holes and places where entire sections had been washed out by flooding. Scouts had gone racing ahead, bouncing over, around and through the holes and sometimes leaving the road altogether, driving in the ditches and in fields, doing their best to stay ahead of the convoy.

Just about the time the rain slacked, the drivers pulled over for a shift change and Ben took the wheel.

"Oh, s.h.i.t!" Jersey muttered. "Here we go. Hang on, people."

"I heard that," Ben said, and roared ahead.

"I've lost contact with Therm," Come said.

"We don't have far to go now," Ben spoke over the roar of the engine.

The Hummer Ben was driving soon overtook the Scouts, and Ben pushed the advance party hard, staying 293.

right on the b.u.mper of the last Scout vehicle. Finally, Ben spun the wheel, raced around the Scouts, and took the lead. Behind him, the convoy picked up speed, staying with Ben.

After an hour of sliding around hilly curves on the rain-slick old highway, with Ben's team holding on to anything they could grab, they sped past the old county line sign and were within a few miles of Therm's HQ. Ben slowed, then pulled over to the side of the road. Ben and team got out.

"Try it now, Corrie," Ben said.

"I have them, General."

"Give me the mic. Therm! This is Eagle. What's your status?"

"Grim." The sound of gunfire was sharp. "Where are you?"

"Within spitting distance. What are we looking at?"

"Several thousand. We now believe they're a combination of Hoffman's Blackshirt troops, right-wing survivalist groups who've kept their heads down until now, and what's left of Hoffman's terrorist groups. They have exhausted their mortar rounds and are attacking with small arms only. We are completely surrounded, Eagle. You ten-four that?""I copy, Therm."

Therm was telling Ben that it didn't make any difference which direction he chose to attack from. Just come on.

The COs had run up to Ben's position. "My company will attack from the north," he told them. "Baker will take the south. Charlie take the east.

Dog Company swing around and take the west side. When Dog is in position, we attack. Corrie, any word from the Scouts?"

294.

"Coming in now, sir." She listened through her earphones for a moment.

"Everything is clear around the attack zone. No surprises for us."

"Let's go 4-F, people," Ben ordered.

Find 'em, fix 'em, fight 'em, and finish 'em.

The Rebels, running without lights, quickly swung into position. The sounds of battle were sharp in the damp night. The rain had ceased and a few stars were beginning to poke through the cloud cover. The storm was moving rapidly off to the east.

"All units in position, sir," Corrie reported.

"Let's do it," Ben replied, and the Rebels moved out on foot.

The terrain was hilly, thick with brush and timber, and the going was gradual uphill, and slow and hard.

"Dog attacking from the west," Corrie said. "Enemy is swinging units around to meet them. They believe our main force is Dog."

"Did Dog encounter any mines, trip-wires, or any other impediments on the way?"

"Negative."

"Tell our people the pa.s.sword word is Jerry, response is Lee." When that was done, Ben said, "Put it in gear, people." Then took off at a trot through the timber.

The Rebels crashed into the Blackshirts, right-wingers, and terrorists from the north, south, and east at just about the same time, catching them completely off guard. For a full ten minutes, it was hand to hand combat in the damp and treacherous footing in the darkness of the timber.

Ben slammed the b.u.t.t of his Thompson into the pale face of a man and then shot him in the chest. Jersey jumped onto the back of a dark shape coming up fast 295.

behind Ben and rode the man to his knees. He threw her off and Cooper shot him in the face. Corrie's CAR-15 spat fire and lead and two dark shapes went down screaming in pain. Beth had slung her M-16 and had both hands filled with 9 mm pistols for the close-in work.

Ben saw dark shapes come running through the timber and leveled his oldThompson. The Chicago Piano roared and bucked in his hands. The heavy .45-caliber slugs tore into flesh and splintered bone and knocked the running shapes spinning to the ground.

A man leaped out of the darkness and onto Ben's back. Ben twisted and slung the man off, then kicked him on the side of the jaw with a boot.

The man screamed as his jaw splintered and he rolled away, coming up fast to his knees, a pistol in one hand. Ben pulled the trigger on the Thompson and the slugs turned the man's face into a b.l.o.o.d.y, unrecognizable mess. If the man ever had any real thought processes, they were now spattered on the trunk of a tree.

Ben and team quickly and effectively finished what remained of the counterattack and knelt down on the damp earth to catch their breath.

"Therm says the situation has eased on his position," Corrie panted the words. She caught her breath and then smiled in the night, white teeth flashing against the tan of her face. "Smoot is all right. She crawled behind a foot locker and is still there."