"Over the past few years, the citizens have gotten tired of everything they need to live being in short supply. They've become surly and argumentative with local authorities, and there have even been riots in some localities when food and sundry supplies have gotten low," he said, dropping his eyes to the floor, unable to meet Claire's stern gaze.

"And you're saying this is my fault?" she asked, a dangerous tone in her voice.

"Of course not, Claire," G.o.ddard interrupted. "We are on your side, and as your ministers, we've backed you up on every decision you've made about trying to defeat the SUSA. It's just that our efforts have strained the economy to its bursting point and the people are ready to rebel. The constant shortages followed by this d.a.m.n plague that's killed thousands of civilians has caused them to be less than respectful of any governmental officers."

"So, what does all this mean?" she asked, relaxing a little at G.o.ddard's conciliatory tone.

112.

"I'm afraid, if the invaders keep going, they're gonna find a large number of citizens willing to join them in their quest to overthrow the government," c.o.x said. "The number of malcontents among the citizens is at an all-time high, and if the terrorists succeed in cutting even more essential services out, such as electricity and roads, then the people are going to want a change."

"And you mink the average citizen is dumb enough to think these rag-heads will be able to do more for them than we can?" she asked scornfully.

G.o.ddard smirked. "Claire, the average citizen is a mushroom ... kept in the dark and fed bulls.h.i.t. Don't expect them to make rational decisions based on logic. All they know is their electricity is off, they can't get food at the stores 'cause the roads and bridges are destroyed, and these FFA guys will be promising them the moon. A lot of them are bound to fall for these lies and join up with the terrorists."

Claire nodded slowly, seeing his point. "All right, I get the picture.

Now, just what do you men propose we do to counter this invasion?"

"I'm sending all the Rangers I have out into the field to combat these infiltrators," G.o.ddard said, "but I'll soon be running out of men."

"What about the Regular Army?" Claire asked.

He shook his head. "No good. Those soldiers are trained to fight a regular war, with huge ma.s.ses of troops going up against other huge ma.s.ses of troops. As for guerrilla warfare, which is what we are engaged in here, they don't have a clue. They'd probably do more harm than good.""So this Army that's costing the government a fortune is useless when we need it?" she asked scornfully.

G.o.ddard shook his head. "No, it's not useless. In fact, I am spreading the Regular Army units out and posting them as guards along major roads and around important facilities for electricity and communications. But as for going out in 113.

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the field and rousting out these terrorists, only the Rangers are trained for that kind of fighting."

"So, what do you suggest?" Claire asked, her face looking defeated for the first time they could remember.

G.o.ddard glanced at the other ministers, who all nodded at him as if they'd already discussed this eventuality.

"I think it's time to give Ben Raines a call," G.o.ddard said.

"Ben Raines?"

"Yes. You said he offered to help when he gave us the warning about these terrorists, and he has a large contingent of troops that are trained for just this kind of war."

"Rangers?" Claire asked.

G.o.ddard shook his head. "No, I believe Raines calls them Scouts, and from what my officers tell me from the times they've faced them in combat, they're even deadlier than our Rangers in guerrilla warfare."

Claire turned in her chair and glanced out the window. "d.a.m.n, I hate to go begging on hands and knees to Raines. The son of a b.i.t.c.h will give me a horselaugh."

"I don't think so, Claire," Boykin said. "After all, Raines said he supports your continued presence as president of the United States, and it would do him no good at all to have a bunch of Middle Eastern terrorists in control on his northern border."

"I agree, Claire," Ainsworth said. "Raines will welcome the chance to keep some stability here."

Claire looked over at Herb Knoff, who had been sitting silently throughout the meeting. He smiled slightly and nodded his head in agreement.

"Okay, I'll think about it," she said, turning back to her desk and standing, indicating the meeting was over.

As the men stood up, G.o.ddard stepped closer to her desk. "Don't think about it too long, Claire. We may not have much longer to get a handle on this before it's too late. Once the people begin to join the FFA, the cat will be out of the bag and very hard to put back in."

114William W. Johnstone "You think we're that close to losing the support of the people?" she asked.

G.o.ddard held up his hand with his index finger and thumb a half inch apart. "Very close, Claire, very close."

115.

"h.e.l.lo, Claire," Ben said into the speakerphone, adjusting the volume a little so Mike Post, his Chief of Intel, could hear the conversation from where he sat across the room.

"h.e.l.lo, Ben," Claire Osterman replied.

"How are things going?" Ben asked, wondering just why she'd called him.

"Not so well, Ben," she replied, her voice sounding tired and worn out.

"You were right about the possible invasion of the U.S. by the Arabs."

"Oh?" Ben asked, but Mike had already filled him in on the current status of the invasion and how the invaders were systematically moving southward, destroying vital U.S. infrastructure as they went.

"Yeah, and we're having a bit of a problem controlling them," Claire said.

"What's the problem?" Ben asked. "My information is there are only twenty or thirty thousand invaders so far. Your Army should be able to easily handle that number of terrorists, especially if you have the help of your citizens in the fight."

A sigh could be heard through the speaker. "Well, as you know, Ben, our citizens have always believed strongly in gun control, and therefore not many of the people in my country have access to firearms."

Ben grinned at Mike Post and shook his head. This was 116.

indeed one of the many differences between the SUSA and the U.S. The bleeding heart liberals of the U.S. with their wrongheaded notion that guns were all bad had long ago decreed that no one other than the government should own or have access to firearms.

The SUSA, under Ben Raines's leadership, had always felt just the opposite. Ben believed a well-armed populace was the nation's surest defense against tyranny, and virtually everyone in the SUSA owned guns and knew how to use them. Any invasion of the SUSA would be short-lived, with the invading troops being fought by everyone in the country as well as the Army.

"We've had this discussion before, Claire, about the importance to a nation's defense of its citizens being armed, but even now I don't expect to change your mind."

"I didn't call you up to argue philosophy, Ben," Claire said, an edge in her voice.

"That brings up an interesting point, Claire," Ben said. "Just why did you call me?""We may need your help," Claire said, her voice croaking a bit, as if asking her old enemy for aid was difficult to articulate.

"Oh?" Ben asked.

"Yes. The terrorists have separated into hundreds of small groups of men who are all moving independently of each other, and thus our Army is virtually helpless against them. General G.o.ddard has decided to send in our Rangers in helicopters to see if they can stop the terrorists'

advance, but he says the Rangers will be severely outnumbered."

"So, the terrorists have resorted to a sort of guerrilla warfare, huh?"

Ben asked.

"Yes, those were G.o.ddard's exact words."

Ben shook his head, frowning. "Claire, I wouldn't want to try and tell your general how to run his war, but I don't think helicopters are the best bet against this kind of attack."

There was silence for a moment, and Ben wondered if the 117.

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general was sitting in the room with Claire listening to their conversation.

"Why not?" she asked after a few moments.

"Helicopters are fine for attacking large concentrations of men and equipment and for inserting troops into combat zones," Ben said, "but they are fairly slow and make very tempting targets for men spread out in wooded areas, and are virtually worthless in urban areas. I'm afraid your general is going to lose a lot of very valuable troops if he insists on using the helicopters against guerrilla warriors."

Another silence, finally broken by a question. "What would you advise?"

"If it were me, Claire, I'd use the latest intel to find out where the pockets of invaders were and HALO-drop small teams of Rangers, or Scouts as we call them, into the areas just ahead of the invaders. That way, the defenders could get set up and ambush or take out the invaders before they knew they were under attack."

"That's an interesting game plan, Ben, but my general says we just don't have enough Rangers to do it that way."

"Are you asking me for help, Claire?" Ben asked gently.

"Would you consider ... uh ... lending us some of your Scouts to help eradicate this threat to my country?" Claire asked, a slight note of desperation in her voice.

"No, Claire," Ben said, his voice firm. "I won't 'lend' you any of my troops. But," he added before she could respond, "I will send some of my troops to help get rid of the terrorists if they can act independently and under the command of our own leaders.""I don't know if General G.o.ddard will agree to having troops here that aren't under his command," Claire said.

Ben shrugged and leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head.

"It's your call, Claire, but it's the only way you're gonna get any troops from us."

"Let me get back to you on that, Ben," Claire said.

"Don't wait too long, Claire. The more spread out the 118.

guerrillas get, the harder it will be to take them out, and the more damage they'll be able to do."

"That's exactly what General G.o.ddard advised," Claire said, a note of humor in her voice for the first time.

As Claire was speaking to Ben Raines on the phone, General G.o.ddard was meeting with his Ranger commanders at his headquarters. Present were Colonel Blackie Johnson, Major Ralph Jackson, Colonel Randy Morrow, and Colonel Jimmy Doolittle.

G.o.ddard was sitting at his desk, with his men arranged on chairs around his office.

"All right, men, here's the plan," G.o.ddard said. "We'll send in your teams of Rangers in Chinook helicopters to areas where the terrorists are active. Since we're short on men, we'll try to take out the most advanced teams of invaders first and then backtrack toward the ones not so far along."

"General," Colonel Johnson said, his voice a slow Southern drawl, "those Chinooks are gonna be mighty temptin' targets for those Arabs." He p.r.o.nounced Arabs like A-rabs. " 'Specially if they've got their hands on any TOWs or ant.i.tank rockets."

Colonel Randy Morrow nodded his agreement. "Blackie's right, General,"

he said. "Those d.a.m.ned Chinooks are slower'n Christmas. My men are gonna be like sittin' ducks up there."

G.o.ddard held up his hand. "Wait a minute, gentlemen. I plan to have some Apaches and Cobras and Defenders along to give your men air support."

Lieutenant Ralph Jackson, the only black man among the group, shook his head. "That's great, General, if the terrorists oblige by standing around all bunched up. But if they've got any brains at all, they're gonna be spread out where the attack helicopters won't be worth a bucket of spit."

"The attack helicopters are just to occupy the attention of 119.

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the terrorists," G.o.ddard said, "while the Chinooks let your men off ahead of the invaders' area. Then, while the attack helicopters are harrying the hostiles, your men can advance on foot and take them out."Colonel Jimmy Doolittle shook his head. "I sure hope your intel is accurate on the location of these bandits," he said. " 'Cause if it's wrong, my men are gonna be in a world of hurt."

G.o.ddard sighed deeply. "I need you men to work with me on this," he said. "We don't have a whole lot of choice in the matter. These terrorists are systematically destroying half the countryside while we sit here arguing over how to go about defeating mem."

He stood up. "If you have any better suggestions, make them now; otherwise get your men together and let's go kick some a.s.s!"

The officers glanced at each other, shrugged, and got to their feet.

"I guess you're right, General," Blackie Johnson said, "but I have a feelin' we're gonna need a lot of body bags 'fore this little fracas is over."

The big Chinook helicopter shuddered and jumped in turbulent air as it headed for Erie, Pennsylvania. Colonel Blackie Johnson sat on metal benches along the walls with twenty of his Ranger troops.

As they rode, the men were constantly checking their equipment. Each man was outfitted with an M-16 carbine, the short-barreled model; a Colt .45-caliber automatic pistol; and a K-Bar a.s.sault knife. The equipment was relatively outdated, but the U.S. defense budget couldn't afford the better, but more expensive, Uzis and Berettas used by the Scouts oftheSUSA.

The latest intel relayed to Johnson said a band of terrorists were in the area and expected to hit the dock facilities at Erie 120.

on Lake Erie that were used to import goods and food from Canada. If the docks were destroyed, it would be a major setback for the people of the Northeast as it would severely hamper their ability to get food and other supplies for some time.

A McDonnel-Douglas OH-6 Defender attack helicopter was flying on the-Chinook's port side, while on the starboard side an Apache was leading the way toward the rendezvous with the invaders.

"Lock and load, gentlemen," Johnson yelled, trying to make his voice heard over the roar of the Chinook's big double engines.

The plan was to off-load the troops between the towns of Ashtabula and Erie, and to have them advance in the jeeps that were slung under the helicopter, while the Apache and Defender kept the invaders busy.

At least that was the plan. But Colonel Johnson, ever the realist, knew such battles rarely went as planned.

The Chinook began to settle along a lake-side road as the Apache and Defender flew in wide circles to keep watch while the troops and materiel were unloaded.

As the Chinook lowered toward the ground, Johnson looked out the window to the north and could see huge, billowing dark clouds of smoke some five miles away where the town of Erie would be."d.a.m.n," he said to himself, "it looks like we're too late to save the docks. f.u.c.kin' intel, wrong as usual," he told himself.

Intel had said the terrorists were at least twenty miles to the north of the town, and wouldn't be in a position to hit the docks for another twelve hours.

"Sons of b.i.t.c.hes must be movin' pretty fast," Johnson muttered as he got to his feet in preparation for leaving the chopper.

A booming explosion, followed by a bright light off to the 121.

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