"We'll be flying directly into your base at Indianapolis. Get with Mike Post and set up some code words so your anti-aircraft batteries don't get too nervous when we come into your airs.p.a.ce."

"Roger," G.o.ddard said. "And for what it's worth, I'll have the latest intel on the movements of the invaders ready for your perusal upon your arrival."

"Thanks," Ben said, and hung up the phone.

He turned to Mike Post. "Get my team in here as soon as you can."

"Yes, sir!" Post said, getting to his feet.

129.

Ben kicked back in his desk chair and put his feet up on the comer of his desk as Mike walked into his office followed by the rest of Ben's team.

Ben took a close look at Jersey to see if she was fully recovered from her recent head injury.

"How're you doing, Jersey?" he asked.

She grinned, her hand unconsciously moving to the back of her head. "I'm doing great, Boss," she said.

"No nausea or double vision?"

She shook her head. "Nope, not since the first week anyway."

"Good. Now, down to business. I've just gotten off the phone withPresident Osterman."

"She didn't call to tell you she'd gotten teta.n.u.s from her wounds, by any chance, did she?" Coop asked sarcastically.

"No such luck," Ben answered with a grin. "Actually, she called to ask for our help against the terrorists who've invaded her country."

"What, her Army gone on strike?" Harley Reno asked skeptically.

"It's not that," Ben answered. "It's that the terrorists have started a sort of guerrilla war by breaking up into small groups of fifteen or twenty men and spreading out over the countryside."

130.

"How does that keep her Army from going up against them?" Anna asked, glancing at Harley, who was sitting next to her.

He looked at Ben, who nodded. "Go ahead, Harley. Tell her the difference."

"In normal warfare," he said, "you pit huge crowds of soldiers against one another, using all the appliances of modern warfare ... tanks, ships, aircraft, and even artillery. The men and the generals are used to thinking in certain ways about troop and materiel movements."

"Yeah, I know that. But I still don't see why the Regular Army wouldn't be effective against the guerrillas."

"It's a completely different scenario, Anna," Harley said. "When you're fighting as a guerrilla, you use your enemy's strengths against them."

"Huh?" she asked, confused.

"Well," Harley said, pursing his lips as he thought of a way to explain it to her. "If your enemy is big and you are small, that means he will have to move slow and you can move fast. If he has a lot of troops, they'll have to be supplied with food, ammunition, medical care, and all that. The guerrillas, on the other hand, confiscate the weapons of those they defeat and then use those weapons against the bigger foe, and they live off the land, taking what they need when they need it. They don't have to worry about supply lines or support troops or any of that nonsense."

"So, they can hit and run and by the time the big Army units respond, they've moved on to hit another location," Anna said, nodding her head.

"You got it, babe," Harley said. "Like Ben said, it's a completely different type of warfare, and it takes a specialist to win at it."

"How can you beat something nice that?" Beth asked.

Ben leaned forward, his elbows on his desk, and grinned at his team.

"Exactly like Harley said, by using the enemy's strengths against them."

131.

131.

"How?" Beth asked again."If they're small and mobile, we send troops against them who are smaller and more mobile. We use their tactics against them-we hit them and run, we strike and pull back with small, elite groups that can move and disappear quickly."

"You're talking about Scout units," Coop said.

Ben nodded. "Yep. And they will have the one advantage of being able to call in air strikes when and if the need arises."

"You don't mean you're thinking of sending our Scouts over there to take orders from those idiots that are running Osterman's Army, are you?"

Hammer Hammerlick asked incredulously.

"Not for a minute," Ben answered. "I'm gonna go along and I'll be in charge of our men and women, and I'll coordinate our fighting with the Rangers of the U.S. who'll be under G.o.ddard's command."

"You didn't call us in here just to tell us about a fight we're gonna be left out of, did you* Ben?" Jersey asked, her eyebrows arched in a way that made her look very dangerous indeed.

"Of course not, Jersey. I intend for my team to go with me, and to be used as a special strike unit for the most important jobs that come up."

"I don't know if Jersey'll be up to it, Boss," Coop said, a devilish glint in his eye. "She took a pretty nasty blow to the head and the doc says it may have scrambled her brains just a bit."

Jersey turned to glare at Coop. "My a.s.s!" she said. "I would've been all right if you hadn't thrown all your weight down on me. That's what caused my head injury."

"Oh, so that's the thanks I get for saving your hide?" Coop asked, a hurt expression on his face.

"Saving me? h.e.l.l, you d.a.m.ned near killed me with your clumsy attack-"

132.

"All right, people," Ben said, trying to hide his grin at the goings-on between Jersey and Cooper.

They settled back in their chairs, refusing to look at each other, as Ben continued. "I want each of you to get fitted out in the typical Scout outfits," he said. "And Harley, you and Hammer get the ordnance together the team's gonna need, including some HALO chutes and gear."

"d.a.m.n!" Coop said in a low voice. "I hate HALO drops."

"Puck-puck-puck," Jersey said slowly, mimicking the sound of a chicken.

Less than twelve hours later, Ben had fifteen hundred Scouts geared up and ready to travel. He'd a.s.signed Buddy Raines, his son, to be the commander of the Scout squadron and to act as his second in command for the operation in the United States.

It would be Buddy's job to a.s.semble the Scouts into teams of from five to ten men and women each, and to coordinate communications among the various teams as they were sent out on find-and-destroy missions againstthe terrorist groups.

In a meeting in his office with Buddy, Mike Post, Dr. Larry Buck, and Harley Reno, who would a.s.sume command of Ben's team, Ben explained the procedures to his leaders.

"We'll transport everyone to Indianapolis in a couple of C-130 transport planes, and we'll also bring along a squadron of Ospreys for the drops into hot zones, and a few of our Apaches and Cobras for backup air support that can be called in by the various Scout squads when and if they need it," Ben said.

"Each squad will be given a coded cellular phone as well as a long-range portable radio transceiver to use to keep in touch," Buddy explained.

"Corrie has agreed to be in overall charge of communications, with several junior communications officers working under her in case Harley needs her when his team is deployed."

133.

133.

Ben nodded. "What if some of the teams are overrun and their phones or radios are captured?" he asked.

"Neither the phones nor the radios will work unless the proper code sequence is keyed in prior to use," Buddy said. "They'll be useless to anyone except the people who know the correct codes to use."

"What if one of the Scouts is forced to give up the codes?" Mike Post asked.

Harley grinned. "You've obviously never tried to make a Scout talk," he said. "Every one of them would die before talking."

Post nodded. "And as far as medical care in the field?" he asked Dr. Buck.

Larry answered. "I'm taking a large team of surgeons and med-techs along. We'll set up a MASH unit on the Indianapolis base for the use of our troops, and we'll have some special medevac teams ready to travel to hot zones by chopper when they're needed."

"What about supplies?" Post asked.

"We're gonna do like the terrorists," Harley said. "Live off the land, use weapons and ammunition we take from the terrorists, and confiscate whatever else we need from the local economy."

"Okay, if there're no further questions, let's load 'em up and move 'em out," Ben said, getting to his feet.

134.

The twin C-130's lumbered through the skies over the United States, heading toward the airfield at Fort Benjamin Harrison in Indianapolis, Indiana.

Ben Raines, his team, and another few hundred Scouts sat on metal benches lining the wall of the big cargo hold. A handful of Ospreys and Apaches and Cobras were frying in formation with the C-130's, but they would fall behind as they had to make frequent refueling stops, whereasthe C-130's could make the trip on one tankful of av-gas.

The noise inside the hold of the C-130 was loud and the ride was b.u.mpy, discouraging much talk among the pa.s.sengers, but Coop was never able to go very long without some chatter.

He was sitting next to Jersey, which was their usual arrangement. Even though they were almost always at each other's throats, when they were going into hot zones they were also never far apart.

Jersey was, as usual in these circ.u.mstances, moving her K-Bar slowly back and forth across a whetstone, honing it to a razor-sharpness.

Coop glanced at her and shook his head. "Jeez, Jerse," he said, "we're just goin' in to kill these motherf.u.c.kers, not scalp 'em."

She cut her eyes over to him and laid the blade of her 135.

K-Bar on his thigh, the point near his privates. "Who said anything about scalping them? I've got better plans for them."

"Whoa," Coop said, pushing the knife away, "take it easy there, Geronima."

"Geronima?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah, female for Geronimo," he said, referring to her Apache ancestry.

"Jesus, Coop, you're a very sick puppy," she said, shaking her head back and forth.

"You just say that 'cause you love me and are afraid to admit it," he teased.

"I love you like a blister on my backside, mister," she retorted, and went back to her sharpening.

The convoy landed at Fort Benjamin Harrison in Indianapolis without incident, the choppers hovering on the periphery of the landing field until all of the C-130's made it safely onto the tarmac.

As Ben, followed closely by his team, and then the remaining Scouts in his plane disembarked, they were met by a welcoming committee consisting of President Claire Os-terman, General Maxwell G.o.ddard, and several of Claire's cabinet ministers. Herb Knoff was not present because his wounds were not healed well enough for him to make the trip out to the landing field.

Buddy Raines, Ben's second in command, took charge of the Scouts, and had them move immediately to the quarters that had been provided on the base for their use, leaving Ben and his team to greet the greeters.

Claire stepped up to Ben, a half smile on her face. "h.e.l.lo, Ben," she said, sticking out her hand. "It's been a long time."

"Howdy, Claire," Ben said in his usual informal way. He inclined his head at her left arm, still in a sling from her 136wounds suffered when the terrorists attempted to a.s.sa.s.sinate her. "How's the arm?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It's healing," she said quickly.

"h.e.l.lo, General Raines," Maxwell G.o.ddard said, stepping forward.

He was tall and lean, and his bearing reminded Ben of the character played by Henry Fonda in the old movie In Harm's Way.

"Good afternoon, General G.o.ddard," Ben replied, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

Claire introduced her ministers, and Ben made the rounds, saying h.e.l.lo to each one, putting a face with the names he'd heard before in intel briefings by Mike Post.

"We have a table set up in the officers' mess if you'd care for some lunch," Claire said.

"Absolutely," Ben replied. "One thing I've learned over the years is to eat at every opportunity, 'cause you never know when you'll get another chance."

"My feelings exactly," Claire agreed, "though lately, I've been cutting down quite a bit."

Ben smiled, noticing her new, svelte figure. "I see you've lost quite a bit of weight, Claire," he said as the group began to move across the landing field toward a line of cars waiting to take them to the base itself. "Was that doctor's orders, or is it the result of your recent wounds?"

She smiled, obviously pleased that he'd noticed. "Actually, it began a couple of years ago, when I was ... when a plane I was riding in crashed in the countryside. I was marooned without a lot of food for several weeks and the diet was a matter of necessity at that time, but I felt so much better with the weight off, I decided to continue working at it."

"Well," Ben said diplomatically, "it certainly becomes you."

"Thank you," Claire said demurely.

Behind her back, where she couldn't be seen, Jersey 137.

137.