Ashes - D Day In The Ashes Part 7

"I seem to recall something about those exercises in futility," Chase said, pouring a cup of coffee and sitting down in a chair that was leveled with bricks on one side.

Ben laid the paper aside and Jersey picked it up.

"What's up, Lamar?"

"Boring, Ben. Boring. Not that I am complaining about the lack of wounded, for I certainly am not. But I heard even you b.i.t.c.hing on the radio today about no real action. Why not just throw up a cordon around the city and starve these miserable miscreants out? It wouldn't be long before the creepies and the punks would be at each other's throats-literally."

Ben chuckled. "I've just given the orders to throw a cordon around the place and wait them out, Lamar."

"Good, good. I see no point in losing good men and women fighting this last bastion of thugs and creeps in the Northern Hemisphere."

Corrie walked into the room. "All batt corns have been notified of your decision, boss. They're standing down to wait them out."

Ben nodded and said, "Now it really gets boring."

The Rebels circled the city and waited. A few of the more industrious gangs of punks tried to slip out by boat. But Ben had thought of that, too, and they didn't get far before Ben's fledgling navy, patrolling Lake Ontario, blew them out of the water.

100.William W. Johnstone At the end of the third week, several warlords walked out under flag into Ike's sector.

"Happening sooner than I thought," Ike radioed to Ben. "I got one street gang leader says his name is Tuba Salami."

Ben started laughing so hard he could not speak for half a minute. "What did you say, Ike?"

"You heard me. Tuba Salami."

Ben wiped his eyes and keyed the mic. "How many in this bunch, Ike?"

" 'Bout eight hundred. Still going to turn them over to the Canadians?"

"It's their country."Julie Petti, who had been keeping close company with Ben since their first meeting, said, "They'll hang them, Ben."

"The Canadians are a fair people, Julie," Ben replied. "They'll give them a fair trial, then they'll hang them. Some of them."

Julie smiled and shook her head.

"As soon as the creepies learn of any talk of ma.s.s surrender, they'll start taking prisoners of the punks, for food," Beth said. "We can count on that."

Ms. Catherine Smith-Harrelson-Ingalls paled, but for once she offered up no objections. If the Night People had a friend on the face of the earth-other than fellow creepies-Ben was not aware of them.

"You're certainly correct in that, Beth." Ben looked at Blanton's representatives. "You want any of these prisoners to take back with you?"

"This is amusing you, isn't it, General Raines?" one of the reporters who had not been sodomized or forced 101.

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to suck a d.i.c.k that long night of captivity several weeks back asked.

"I suppose it is," Ben said. "In a perverse sort of way. Whenever the Rebels have to come in and clean up the G.o.dd.a.m.n messes you liberals made of a formerly workable society, it pleasures me a great deal."

The reporter stared at Ben for a moment but wisely made no reb.u.t.tal.

Even though Ben, at the moment, was unarmed, and giving the reporter about fifteen years in age, the man was not about to risk mixing it up physically with Raines.

Liberals hate the military; always have, always will. But they are very afraid of the military. It's all those guns and discipline and marching and flag-waving and all that other right-wing stuff makes them want to do the hoochie-coochie on their hankies.

"But don't worry," Beth said}, always ready to stick the needle into a liberal. .. especially the newly emerging press. "You'll have plenty to write about-criticizing us, I'm sure."

Another reporter turned to the usually soft-spoken Beth. "Whatever in the world do you mean?"

"The creepies, pal," Beth said. "They don't surrender. So that means we'll have to go in and dig them out. So you people will have lots of opportunities to p.i.s.s and moan about the harsh treatment given them by the Rebels."

"I find that remark both insulting and offensive," the reporter said.

"Yeah?" Beth said, standing up. The quiet, very pretty, and very intelligent historian of the group smiled. "Well, try this one: I don't give a flying f.u.c.k102 William W. Johnstone what you find offensive or insulting." She walked back into the house.

The reporter's face tightened in anger. "Someone needs to teach that young lady some manners."

Cooper laughed. "Anytime you feel lucky, pal, you just jump right in there and grab a handful. Me-I'd rather walk into a roomful of rattlesnakes than mess with Beth."

The reporter scoffed. Beth was about five feet four inches and weighed maybe 120 pounds. The reporter was six feet two inches and about 190.

Besides, he'd played football before the Great War, and his coach had told him he was bad to the bone. His coach had lied. "You people certainly have a rather high opinion of your prowess, don't you?"

Little Jersey stood up and laid her M-16 aside.

"Oh, s.h.i.+t!" Cooper muttered, quickly getting out of the way.

The reporter towered over Jersey. He glared down at her. "I don't want to hurt you. So don't be foolish, baby."

"I'm never foolish," Jersey told him. "And I'm not your baby." Then she openhandedly slapped the p.i.s.s out of him.

The reporter, whose name was Harold, cursed and took a swing at Jersey.

Jersey put a bit of applied judo on him, and Harold found himself flat on his back on the porch. Jersey smiled and stepped back, allowing the man to get to his feet. Harold a.s.sumed a boxer's stance, and Jersey kicked him on the kneecap. Harold screamed in pain, bent down, and grabbed for his knee. Jersey brought up her knee and smashed it into 103.

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the man's face. The blood squirted and Harold hit the boards.

"You rotten little b.i.t.c.h!" Harold hollered, blood streaming down his face.

"Now, now," Ben said with a smile. "That's not politically correct."

Julie studied Ben during the brief fracas. He seemed amused by the entire matter. She cut her eyes to Lieutenant Bonelli, who had walked up just seconds before the incident. He yawned. Cooper had gotten out of the way and was petting a stray dog who had wandered up the day before and who the Rebels were feeding. Beth and Come hadn't even bothered to come out of the house.

Julie was beginning to understand Rebels. She had been told, and had originally rejected as myth, that unarmed combat was taught in Rebel schools-beginning at a very early age. Now she knew that it was not myth but hard fact.

Harold was getting to his feet. "I'll tear your G.o.dd.a.m.n head off, youIndian b.i.t.c.h!" he shouted.

"Oh, my," Ben said, rolling a cigarette. "An ethnic slur from the press.

Surely I misunderstood."

Harold rushed Jersey and she sidestepped, sticking out a boot and tripping the bigger and heavier man. Harold crashed through the old porch railing and went rolling a.s.s over elbows on the ground. Jersey stepped off the porch and hit the man about fifteen times as he was attempting to get up. Hard blows to the kidneys, the back of the neck, the side of the neck, and finally, two hard blows directly over the heart.

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Harold's face turned chalk white and he began gasping for breath as his heart faltered.

"Take the stupid son of a b.i.t.c.h down to the hospital," Ben said, lighting his hand-rolled cigarette.

"We'll sue you!" another reporter yelled at Jersey, then looked around in confusion as the Rebels broke up in good-natured laughter.

"Did I say something amusing?" the reporter asked.

By the end of the month, only the hard-core gangs and the Night People remained in the city. Hundreds of gang members had surrendered to the Rebels, choosing to face a Canadian judge and jury rather than starve to death or be eaten by the creepies.

Rebels began gearing up to enter the city and root out those remaining.

Huge tanker trucks began rolling in, and Julie questioned Ben about that. All around the edges of the central part of the city, Rebels had begun welding manhole covers closed (excuse me, peoplehole covers).

"That's one of the ways we flush creepies out of their holes. We pump gasoline into the sewers and underground chambers and burn them out."

"Barbaric," the press said, safely out of earshot of any Rebel.

Ben had received the communique from the UN's Security Council and was studying the suggestion; discussing it with his people.

"Once again, we get to do the dirty work," Ike said. "But what do we get out of it?"

"That's what I'm discussing with Son Moon now,"

105.

Ben replied. "I want fully recognized sovereign nation status for the SUSA and those aligned with us. Voted on and accepted by the full UN or it's no go. And that's got to include the U.S. amba.s.sador. The UN has my demands."

"I wonder what Blanton has to say about this?" West asked.

"That rotten son of a b.i.t.c.h!" Homer Blanton said."The nation is torn apart," VP Harriet Hooter said. "We have to find some way to bring all the states back into the fold."

"Wait until Ben Raines and the Rebels leave, then we invade the SUSA,"

Senator Benedict said.

"Good show!" Senator Arnold shouted.

"I love it!" Rufus Dumkowski said. "More people to tax the s.h.i.+t out of."

"Sock it to those rich honky b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!" Rita Rivers yelled.

"Hey, stupid!" Wiley Ferret said. "I'm a honky and I'm rich!"

"Yeah," Rita said. "But you got yours by f.u.c.king it out of the taxpayers, the same way I'm gettin' mine."

"Oh," Wiley said. "You're right. That's okay then."

"Let's add an amendment to tihe Const.i.tution," Zip-porah Was.h.i.+ngton said. "Let's outlaw the Republican party."

"Good show!" Senator Benedict shouted, looking around for his bourbon bottle.

"I concur," Representative Immaculate c.r.a.pums agreed. "Don't you think so, Representative Holey?"

106.

William W. Johnstone President Blanton tuned them out, wondering, not for the first time, how in the h.e.l.l he ever got mixed up with such a pack of nitwits.

Blanton let the ninnies blither and blather, then cleared his office and sat for a time behind his desk. Slowly he picked up the phone and told his amba.s.sador to the UN to vote in favor of sovereign nation status for Ben Raines and the SUSA.

107 Him But Ben had other wrinkles up his sleeve that had to be ironed out before he and President Cecil Jefferys would sign anything binding. And while Cecil Jefferys was the elected president of the Southern United States of America, everyone knew that Cecil would not go against Ben Raines-for more reasons than one. They had been friends for too many years. Ben and Cecil thought exactly alike. And while the Rebel army adored Cecil Jefferys, they revered and idolized Ben Raines.

Ben ordered his troops to maintain their starving out of the punks and the creepies in the city and flew down to Charleston, West Virginia, where Cecil was waiting.

The two old friends shook hands warmly and then embraced like brothers.

Chase had told Ben that Cecil had recovered very nearly 100 percent from his multiple heart bypa.s.s surgery, and while he could never again go back into the field and endure the stress of combat leaders.h.i.+p, he was fine right where he was in the SUSA.108 William W. Johnstone "You sure you want this job, Ben?" Cecil asked.

"I'm sure. And so are my commanders. We're all soldiers, Cec. Can you see me spending the rest of my life shuffling papers?"

Cecil laughed. "Truthfully, Ben, no. You ready to go see President Blanton?"

"No. But it's something I have to do."

Actually, Ben sort of liked Homer, more so since he sensed Homer was beginning to understand that pure liberalism in government simply would not work; never had, never would. Many countries in the world had either adopted or flirted with socialism and/or communism . . . just before the Great War, nearly all had abandoned those forms of government. But the liberals continued to want to move America toward a time-and-again miserably failed form of government. Ben could never understand the workings of a liberal mind. But while he was beginning to warm to Homer, he doubted they would ever be more than acquaintances. The political breech was just too wide.

To his credit Homer Blanton stuck out his hand, and Ben smiled and shook it.

"Well, that's a start," Homer said, returning the smile.

"A pretty good one, Homer," Ben replied.

The secretary-general of the United Nations was present, as was the Speaker of the House and VP Hooter. Neither one of them offered to shake Ben's hand. Holey was dozing.

Rita Rivers, Immaculate c.r.a.pums, Zipporah Was.h.i.+ngton, Rufus Dumkowski, and several others had joined the line of ever-present protesters outside the 109.

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new White House, carrying signs denouncing Ben Raines and the SUSA.

"I apologize for that," Homer said, pointing to the group on the street.