Ashes - Ambush In The Ashes Part 5

"Running in fear . . . from what?"

"Don't know, General. But it seems there was a general panic. And this was after the Great War . . . several weeks after the war. We're sure of that. That's about the only thing we're sure of at this point."

"It'll probably turn out to be one of those mysteries that will never be solved," Ben said. "And we have had a few of those over the years."

Ben returned to his CP and spent the rest of the day doing paperwork.

That evening he met a few of the 48.Americans who had remained in the city and a.s.sured them they would be granted safe pa.s.sage back to America.

None of them impressed Ben very much and after they had left, he dismissed them from his mind.

Jersey and Anna strolled into his office later that evening and Anna plopped down on a battered old couch. "It's boring, General Ben," she announced.

"Typical teenager," Ben said with a laugh. "You have to be entertained all the time."

"I agree with her," Jersey said. "And I'm no teenager. So far, this has been a milk run."

"Well, it has been boring," Ben agreed. "But that can't last forever.

These gangs number in the thousands. They don't dare try to slip into Bruno Bottger's territory; he'd shoot them on sight. We've got them between a rock and a hard place. Sooner or later, they've got to turn and fight. Probably before we reach the Senegal and the Niger rivers.

And there, folks, is where I suspect we're really going to hit some hard fighting . . ."

The other members of Ben's team had wandered in and were listening.

"... Those countries have been cut up into sections-tribal hatred, warlords, dissident army factions. You name it, and we're going to run into it."

"So we had better enjoy this more or less calm while we can, huh, boss?"

Cooper asked.

"That's about the size of it, Coop." Ben cut his eyes to Corrie. "Did those additional water and fuel trucks arrive?"

"They just pulled in, boss."

"Good. We'll sure need them. Once we pull out of here, it's fifteen hundred miles to the next port. That's at Nouakchott, in Mauritania. And there is a lot of desert between here and there."49 49."And not many people?" Anna questioned.

"Not many, Anna." Again he looked at Corrie. "Any word from Nick Stafford's 18 Batt?"

"He's running into the same thing we are," Corrie replied. "Starving people and looted towns. It's the same thing all across to Ike. Somebody really did a number on North Africa."

"South of here we're going to see starving people by the thousands," Ben said, then added grimly, "Or find the bones of thousands."

"What the h.e.l.l is with this country?" Coop asked. "I mean, I can understand up here, it's desert. The land's no good. But south of here, it's fertile."

Ben stood up and walked to a window, gazing out for a moment. "You don't really want to get me started on that, Coop. So let's just call it bad land management."

The Rebels did what they could in Rabat, then moved on down the coast to Fedala, better known as Mo-hammedia. Then down to Ed Dar el Baida, better known as Casablanca. There they almost got caught up in their first food riot.

"Put warning shots over their heads!" Ben ordered, as the mobs of starving people surged toward the Rebel column. "Now!"

The mob paused, hesitated for a moment, then began moving toward the column again. Additional Rebel tanks rumbled forward; armored personnel carriers joined then. The ma.s.s of starving humanity stopped.

"Have the interpreters tell them we have food and medical care," Ben said. "But if we don't have order, we'll move on."

The local, who had joined the column at a village just north of the city, said, "They might take that the wrong way, General."

50.William W. Johnstone "If they do, and they rush us," Ben said, with menace in his voice, "I'll put a lot of them out of their misery. Be sure and tell them that, too."

"Would you really do that, General?" the interpreter asked, worry in his words.

"You want to find out?"

"Ah . . . no, sir."

"Then advise the people to settle down."

The interpreter spoke quickly and the mob began slowly backing up.Several males stepped out of the mob, rocks in their hands. One drew back his arm to hurl the stone and the muzzles of several Rebel machine guns swung in his direction. The citizen suddenly had second thoughts and the rock dropped from his fingers.

"That's better," Ben said. "I just knew we could reach some sort of peaceful resolution to this altercation."

The interpreter cut his eyes to Ben and whispered a small prayer under his breath.

"Did you say something?" Ben asked.

"I thanked Allah for sending us such a benevolent commander of the relief column," the local answered quickly.

"I just bet you did," Ben muttered. "All right, Corrie. Tell the troops to una.s.s the vehicles and throw up a defensive perimeter. Once that is done, get Chase and his wonder-workers up here and have the cooks start cooking."

"Yes, sir."

The battalion was split along two streets, one, the Blvd. Amba.s.sadeur Ben Aicha and the other along the Blvd. Moulay Ismail, both near the port.

"Quietly get the Americans gathered in one secure location," Ben said to a Scout standing nearby. "Without using bullhorns and certainly without attracting a lot of attention. I certainly would not want to be accused 51.of favoritism or discrimination. That wouldn't do at all."

The Scout hid his smile. "No, sir. Of course not. Right away, General."

"Really, now, General!" came the decidedly American woman's voice from the side of the deuce-and-a-half. "These people are desperate and starving and you threaten them with guns and brute force."

"Oh, s.h.i.t!" Ben muttered.

Her name was Paula Preston and Ben knew the instant he put eyes on her she was going to be trouble. He climbed down from the bed of the truck and faced the woman.

"You figure it's any of your business, lady?" Ben demanded.

"I certainly do, General." Paula stuck out her chin. "I am the only remaining official from the United States Consulate office left in this city. So that makes it my business."

"We're not from the United States of America," Ben informed her.

Paula blinked-stared at him for a moment. "Of course you are!"

"Sorry, Miss Preston, but we're . . ."

"That's Ms. Preston, General.""Of course. How silly of me. Ms. Preston, naturally. And if you ever marry, there will be a hyphen somewhere in there, right?"

"What do you mean you are not from the United States? Where is the American flag? Why aren't you flying it?"

"I am Ben Raines, Ms. Preston. Commanding General of the Armed Forces of the Southern United States of America. The SUSA."

52.Paula blinked about half a dozen times, opened her mouth, closed it, finally managed to ask, "You're what?"

Ben sighed. "You really don't know what has happened in America, do you?"

"We've had bits and pieces of information, General. But for the past several years, we've been virtually cut off here. There isn't a piece of electronic equipment to be found anywhere in the city. All that was looted years ago. All the portable generators were taken. We have am/fm radios, of course, but no electricity and no batteries. We knew, of course, there was some sort of civil war in America. You mean? ..." She tailed that off.

"Yes. The SUSA won."

"Well . . ." Her tone was much more subdued. "I mean, where is the United States Military?"

"Rebuilding. Slowly. The United States is broken up into four sections now, Ms. Preston. The Western United States of America, the Eastern United States of America, the Northern United States of America, and the Southern United States of America."

"That ... is difficult for me to comprehend, General."

"I suspect that in a few years, perhaps as soon as a few months, Eastern and Northern will become as one. There is talk of that now."

Paula looked around her at the Rebels. "This is ... well, a rather small force, General."

Ben smiled. "What you are seeing now is just a small part of one battalion, Ms. Preston. I have nineteen battalions over here. We're stretched out the entire top of Northern Africa, west to east. Working our way south."

"Toward a fight with Bruno Bottger, General?"

"Yes. How do you know about him?"

"Refugees, General. I fear that Field Marshal General 53.53.Bottger has you outnumbered, sir. Even with your nineteen battalions."

"The Rebels are always outnumbered, Ms. Preston. We're used to that.""The . . . Rebels." She nodded her head. "The Southern United States of America and the Rebel army. Then you fly the stars and bars of the Confederacy?"

"No. We do not. We fly the stars and stripes, Ms. Preston. We just don't have as many stars as before." Ben motioned to a Rebel. "Get Mis.

Preston and the rest of her group to a secure area, please. Corrie, inform Dr. Chase of their presence."

"You have women in combat roles, General," Paula remarked, after looking for a moment at the Rebels.

"Yes. The SUSA is virtually discrimination-free."

"You have African-Americans in positions of high authority?"

"The President of the SUSA is a black man, Ms. Preston. Cecil Jefferys.

The vote was overwhelmingly in his favor."

"I am very confused, General. I thought ..."

"I know what you thought, Ms. Preston. A lot of people jump to conclusions and make that mistake. Look, go with the sergeant here, and get cleaned up, some hot food in you, and then checked out by our doctors. We'll talk more later, all right?"

"Certainly, General. I look forward to news from home."

"Outside of the SUSA, Ms. Preston, I'm afraid it's pretty grim."

"Why am I not surprised at that news, General?" For the first time since their introduction, the woman smiled . . . sort of. "We'll talk at length later, sir."

"Certainly."

Ben watched Paula lead the small group of Americans away, following the Rebel.

54."Boy, is she in for a shock," Jersey said.

"Yes," Ben replied. "She sure is, Little Bit. A very drastic shock."

"She'd be very attractive if she was cleaned up and did something with that mop of hair," Beth remarked.

"I hadn't noticed," Ben replied, then looked at his team in mock surprise when they all burst out laughing at that statement.

55 Seven Beth had been correct: Paula was a very nice-looking woman. Ben guessed her to be in her late forties. She was dressed in clean army camo BDUs (which were too big for her), and she had cut her hair (or somebody had done it for her). She seemed somewhat subdued as she sat down in the chair Ben offered her in his hurriedly cleaned out and very temporary HQ."You feel all right?" Ben asked.

"What? Oh. Yes, thank you. It's just that I'm not used to being clean and well-fed, that's all. I have an appointment with the doctors in an hour. They've set up one MASH unit for the Americans alone."

"We're Americans, Ms. Preston," Ben reminded her gently. "And I am a firm believer in looking out for our own. Anyway, I am told that a great many more Americans than antic.i.p.ated are coming out of the woodwork, so to speak."

"Yes. There are a great many among the newly arrived refugees. And some of them are mercenaries."

"Oh? That is interesting. American mercenaries?"

"A few. I would say, from the reports I just got no more than an hour ago from locals, there are perhaps a dozen or so. The rest are Europeans."

"Armed?"

"Well . . . yes."

56."Uh-huh," Ben said with a smile. "All of them white?"

"Why . . . yes, as a matter of fact, they are. Is that something of importance?"

"Oh, it might be, Ms. Preston. It just might be."

"I'm ahead of you," Jersey said, standing up. "I'll alert Coop and the others." She walked swiftly from the room.

"That is a, well, very attractive young lady," Paula remarked. "In a ...