Ashes - D Day In The Ashes Part 10

"That will be a problem," Duffy said. "I've learned that members of the FRF have already begun printing up wanted posters on all of us. Quite frankly, we're not going to have any place to run."

"If we surrender, they'll hang us," Guy Caston said. "That is something we'd all better fix in our minds right now."

"But we'll get a trial," a gang leader said, standing up. "Won't we?"

That got him a lot of dirty laughter. He sat down.

Marie Vidalier, a man-hater from years back, who ran one of the most vicious gangs in all of France, stood up. "I cannot surrender. I was wanted by the gendarmes even before the Great War. I have no choice but to fight."

"The same for me," Eddie Stamp said. Eddie was a former IRA member who was wanted for murder in a half dozen countries.

Most of the other gang leaders reluctantly admitted that for them, surrender was also out of the question."We outnumber the Rebels," Duffy said. "We have thousands more fighters than they do."

"They also have tanks, planes, attack helicopters, and long-range artillery," Paul Zayon pointed out. "We have machine guns and rifles and grenades. Those d.a.m.ned prop planes are flying so low our SAMs are useless against them. And they're flying about 550 131.

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miles an hour. By the time our people get machine guns to bear on them, they're gone."

"And what has happened to our informants in the FRF?" Ned Veasey asked.

"Rene Seaux polygraphed everyone in his groups and ferreted out the plants. He shot them. All of them," Duffy said. "Personally. I hate that ex-foreign legion son of a b.i.t.c.h."

Everybody present took a few moments to give Rene Seaux a sound cussing.

It didn't help their situation a bit, but it did make them feel better for a few minutes.

"We fight with what we have," Duffy said, when the hubbub had died down.

"A lot of us are ex-military. We know organization. And I think I have a plan that will buy us some time. Let the Rebels have everything north of a line from Chateaulin to Paris. They'll spend weeks digging out the cannibals in that city alone. That will give us time to form up battalion-sized units and put together a plan of action. We've got to separate the Rebels. We don't have a chance if we face them en ma.s.se.

But if we can meet them unit to unit, spread out all over the country, we might have a chance. All right. There it is. What do you think?"

"Do we have a choice?" John Monson asked. "I think no. So I say we band together and fight. Now we must elect a leader, and we must agree to follow his or her orders. Duffy, you have successfully fought the FRF for years. I cast my vote for you."

"I'll go along with that," Robert Fryoux said.

"Oui," Philipe Soileau said. "I vote for Duffy Williams to command this army."

Duffy was expecting Marie Vidalier to put up a howl 132.

William W. Johnstone over his nomination to lead the forces. But she was the next person to vote for him. When the voting was complete, the count was unanimous.

Duffy Williams found himself the commander of thousands of punks, thugs, rapists, murderers, thieves, and worse.

Duffy's chest swelled with pride. It was quite an honor.

133 "Scouts report nothing," Corrie called to Ben, after receiving thelast of field reports from recon.

Ben wasn't surprised at the news. But Rene Seaux was. "What are those worthless b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and b.i.t.c.hes up to?" the leader of the FRF asked.

"They got smart," Ben said, swiveling in his chair to look at the wall map of France. "They elected themselves a leader and banded together.

How far out did our people go, Corrie?"

"From Avranches over to Dreux, and from Rouen over to Beauvais then down to the outskirts of Paris. They hit no resistance at all. Nothing."

Ben looked at the map for several moments. "Have our pilots start fly-bys over this line." He took a grease pencil and drew a line from Chateaulin over to Rennes, then from Rennes to Le Mans. He added another line from Le Mans up to Chartres and then to the outskirts of Paris. "If I'm right, whoever is now commanding the punk army is not stupid. But he's still 134.

William W. Johnstone a punk. Divide and conquer. He's going to split us up and take us that way." Ben smiled. "He thinks."

Ben started battalion numbering the map, starting with Rebet at the coastline above Brest, and ending with Pat O'Shea at Dunkerque. "When we get these battalions s.h.i.+fted around, have Pat and Tina start a push down to Highway 29 and stop. Danjou and Georgi have already secured their sectors. When that's done, Ike's 2 Batt and my 1 Batt will move down to this point, Caen and Saint Lo. Dan, West, and Rebet will hold what they have. When everything is clear behind us, we'll start our major push inland. When Rebet reaches Quimper and West reaches Rostrenen, they'll cut east and eventually link up with Dan's 3 Batt, which will be holding, hopefully, at Montauban. By that time, Ike will have advanced down to Avranches. The opposition will either have been destroyed or backed up to Rennes. Then we'll start squeezing them as we move toward Paris."

"But Paris is under the control of the cannibals," Rene said.

"That's right. The punks won't dare enter the city. They'll be forced to cut south or retreat eastward. If they head south, they'll be stopped by the Spanish army at the border. I'm betting they'll opt to back up toward the east. That's where our other battalions will be. Waiting for them."

Rene looked at Ben in amazement. "How long did it take you to devise this plan, General?"

"About a minute and a half," Ben said. "Count on punks to always do one of three things: the obvious, the illogical, or the totally absurd. It comes down to a game 135.

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of point/counterpoint." Ben grinned. "Besides, our people are fullyprepared to fight in winter's cold. I'm betting the punks are not. Let's see how they do in the snow and ice and below-freezing temperatures trying to fight with frozen feet and hands."

Rene grunted. "I have to say that you are not a very nice man, General." : "You'd be right. Let's start s.h.i.+fting those battalions around, Corrie."

"What is that son of a b.i.t.c.h doing?" Duffy muttered, standing in front of a huge wall map. "I can't figure out what the h.e.l.l is going on. He's not attacking."

"Our spies say the Rebels are liberating all these towns and villages north of us," Guy Caston said. "They appear to be in no hurry. They are providing food and medical aid to the people."

"G.o.dd.a.m.nit! It's going to be dead-a.s.s winter in another six weeks. We're not equipped to fight in snow and ice."

"But the Rebels are," Marie Vidalier said. "That's Ben Raines's plan.

That rotten b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

"I have an idea," one of Duffy's henchmen said. "Let's kiU Ben Raines."

"Jimmy," Duffy said, "people have been trying to do that for years. No one has even come close." Duffy did not tell any of those present that many believed Ben Raines was a G.o.d. That he possessed supernatural powers. Many of Duffy's followers were jumpy enough without adding that.

136.

"Maybe they didn't have the right plan," Jimmy said.

"And you do?" Marie challenged him.

"I don't know," Jimmy admitted. "But it might be worth a try."

"I'll listen," Duffy said. But he suspected that nothing would come of it, and as it turned out, nothing did.

Back stateside, Emil Hite, the little con artist who had turned Rebel, was still miffed at being left behind. He was sure it had not been done on purpose. Purely an oversight on the part of somebody. Emil had been a part of the Rebels for years, ever since Ben Raines had found him and his followers along the bayou banks of Louisiana (where Emil had convinced a large number of people that he was the earthbound representative of the great G.o.d Blomm).*

Emil had gradually slipped out of his role as part-time snake oil salesman and con artist and had become a pretty good Rebel. But he was still full of s.h.i.+t.

Emil knew one thing for a fact: He was not going to sit around on his a.s.s here in Arkansas with Thermopo-lis and his hippies listening to that G.o.dawful music. He had to get to France and join up with Ben and his people.

Thermopolis and his bunch ran the northernmost listening post for Cecil, the listening post located high up in the mountains of Arkansas. It was a very impor-*VALOR IN THE ASHES-Zebra Books.

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tant job, but not for Emil. He wanted back in the action.

Somehow he had to get to France. He'd find a way. He always did.

"About ten of those punks from Toronto escaped from the holding facility," Corrie informed Ben. "Half of them are on their way over here to join up with the French warlords."

"Wonderful," Ben said. "That's all we need. How are they getting over here?"

"s.h.i.+p," Mike Richards, head of Rebel intelligence, said, walking in.

"And it's not 'getting over here.' They're here." He consulted a clipboard. "Barney Holland, Tony Green, a.k.a. Big Stamper, Mahmud the Terrible, some punk with Jiim called Abdul, and Ahmed Popov, and another called Tuba Salami."

"Oh, no," Ben said, struggling to maintain a straight face. "Not him!"

" 'Fraid so," Mike said. "They commandeered a freighter and forced the captain to bring them to France. Then they shot the captain and all the crew. Dutch resistance fighters found the s.h.i.+p yesterday smashed up on the coast. Two of the crew members were still alive."

"Were?"

"They died."

"How many of their bunch did they bring with them?"

"From what our people could gather from the 138.

William W. Joknstone Dutch, about five hundred. Real bad ones. It was a large freighter,"

Mike added.

"Too bad it didn't sink," Jersey said.

"I thought that Barney Holland hated blacks and Mahmud hated whites,"

Ben said.

"They kissed and made up. A dubious marriage of convenience, you might say."

"Who kissed and made up?" Julie Petti asked, entering the room. She and the other Red Cross reps had been out and about for several days, doing their Red Cross business.

"A bunch of d.a.m.n punks," Ben told her. Julie looked very tired. Julie, as both a registered and surgical nurse, had been working closely with Lamar Chase, and the strain of seeing the terrible results of years of medical neglect on the French people was telling on her.

"What about the Dutch Resistance?" Ben said, turning his attentions to Mike."They're small in number but good fighters. But like all the countries in Europe, Holland is being run by the gangsters and creepies. They desperately need our help."

"Name a country that doesn't," Ben replied, sitting back down behind his desk. "Mike, our agreement with the United Nations wasn't all take on our part-we had to give some, too. We're under mandate; a fixed schedule. I have some leeway as to what countries to a.s.sist in what order, but not much." Ben was conscious of all ears and eyes in the room on him, "We've got to establish a firm and solid hold in Europe. We've got to penetrate deep enough so that we can't be pushed back 139.

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to the sea." Ben thanked Jersey for the mug of coffee she placed on his desk and took a swig. He carefully set the mug down on some paperwork he'd been putting off. He rubbed his temples, sighed, and said, "Ask for volunteers, Mike. Up to twenty-five people from each battalion. We'll send them into Holland by boat. Their orders will be to link up with the Dutch Resistance fighters and start working inland. That's the best I can do, Mike. Now get out of here."

Smiling, Mike Richards left the room.

Ben looked at a small map of Europe on his desk. "It's not a bad idea, really," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. "We've got contingents of the Spanish army guarding the pa.s.ses down along the border, but up north is vulnerable. We're going to be fighting on enough fronts without having to worry about hostiles coming out of Holland."

Ben took another swig of coffee and asked, "Where in the h.e.l.l are those companies of troops from Ireland and England? Can somebody tell me what the d.a.m.n holdup is?"

"Food riots, Ben,"Julie said. "That's what I came in to tell you."

Ben looked at her. "Food riots? But they have ample food. President Blanton and I met and personally saw to that. We sent them hundreds of tons of surplus food we had in storage."

Julie shook her head. "Saboteurs, Ben. Black market. Greed. Desperation.

The food is not getting to many of the people. And-"Julie bit back the rest of it.

"And . . . what, Julie?" Ben pressed. "Come on."

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William W. Johnstom Julie took a deep breath and said, "Many people are complaining the food is not ethically and religiously prepared."

Ben held his temper in check . . . barely. When he felt he could speak without blowing his top, he carefully said, "Ethically and religiously prepared?"

Cooper quietly exited the room, as did several other Rebels. Corrieclamped her headphones tighter and began studying the various dials and VU meters on her set, and Beth busied herself with her journal. Jersey braced herself for the blow.

"That is correct, General Raines," one of the human rights representatives who was tagging along said. "Many of these people are of religious persuasions that specifically forbid them from consuming certain foods. They-"

"Shut up!" Ben roared. "I don't give a flying f.u.c.k for their so-called religious persuasions. Starving people should be grateful if they get a can of dog food. And it's not that bad. I've eaten it before and was d.a.m.n glad to get it. Now I don't blame a starving person for fighting to get food. But I have no patience for anyone who rejects food when it's offered to them." Ben pointed a finger at the human rights spokesperson, who was decidedly ill at ease standing in front of the man who many said was a cross between the devil and a saint. "You pa.s.s the word, mister.

And here it is: I will personally shoot the first son of a b.i.t.c.h in this country who starts a riot over the quality of food that we are pa.s.sing out-free with no strings attached. We're over here busting our a.s.ses to help these people. And we will do everything that is humanly possible for them. But my threshold of 141.

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patience for certain types is very low. Now close your mouth and take your bleeding heart and get the h.e.l.l out of this office before I really lose my temper."

Julie had taken a seat and was studying her fingernails while Ben blew his top. When the office had cleared, she looked up and said, "Some people take their religion very seriously, Ben."

"Yeah, right," Ben said sarcastically. "You bet they do. You tell me this, Julie: What were they eating during the long years before we got here with hundreds of tons of freebies? I'll tell you. Anything they could get their hands on, that's what. No one in their right mind is going to starve to death over words that may or may not have been handed down from a higher deity. Oh, but now that Uncle Sam and Uncle Ben are here, with s.h.i.+ps filled with food, oh, now they can fall back on their religious beliefs and get all righteous about it. Screw 'em! And that's my last word on the subject."

Julie rose from her chair and left the room in a huff.