Ashes - Fury In The Ashes Part 6

"She's got a lot to learn about punks," Jersey said, leaning up against the wagon. "But I imagine she will. If she lives long enough."

The Rebels buried the dead, and chaplain read a short non-denominational service. The wounded were loaded onto trucks for transport on down the road, where Chase would set up a MASH unit for the evening.

Linda was silent as the long convoy of trucks and tanks and self-propelled artillery and Jeeps and Hummers and APC'S and Light Armored Vehicles (Lav) named Piranhas rumbled on through the town.

Had any outlaw been so foolish as to remain behind, at the sight of all the Rebel might he probably would have curled up in a nice tight ball and wished for the safety of his mother's womb.

But the Rebels met with no resistance as they rolled through the town and out onto Highway 99.

"Horrible," Linda finally said, gazing out the window at the silent landscape that seemed utterly void of life. "What kind of degenerates are we dealing with?"

"The kind that won't be around much longer," Bena.s.sured her.

Since Thermopolis had already checked out Oroville and found it to be deserted, Ben pressed on toward Marysville and Beale AFB.

Leadfoot had established a CP for Ben on the old base, and he met the convoy b.i.t.c.hing. "If there's anything worth takin' on this base, General, I wish you'd show me where it is. This place has been picked over a thousand times."

Ben laughed and patted the biker on the shoulder.

"Come on." He walked over to a concrete building about fifty feet long and thirty feet wide.

"There ain't nothin' in that place, General,"

Leadfoot said. "Me and the boys done checked it out."

"And the girls," Wanda reminded him.

"Right."

"Follow me," Ben said, and the others trooped after him. At the smashed door, he said, "See anything unusual about what is left of this door?"

"It's a sure enough big-a.s.s door," Wanda said. "Big enough for a truck."

"That's right, Wanda. Exactly."

Inside the building, Ben pointed to the roof. "See anything unusual about that roof?"

His personal team, with the exception of Linda, had seen it all before. They knew what he was pointing out and remained silent.

Linda looked up. "Why would anybody build a roof like that? Look at those heavy steel beams."

"See those huge eyebolts?" Ben asked, pointing.

"Cooper, bring a deuce-and-a-half up here and run me some chains, please."

The others stood in silence and watched as Ben, on a ladder, threaded the ends of the heavy chain through the eyebolts, then hooked the chains into two holes in the floor.

Leadfoot got down on his hands and knees and looked. "Well, h.e.l.l! There's heavy steel rods embedded in the concrete. I'll be d.a.m.ned."

"Everybody outside!" Ben yelled. "As soon as that slab is lifted, since we're going to violate SOP in opening it, knockout gas will be released.

It won't kill you, but it will drop you to the ground for about an hour. We have to use generators to pump out the tunnels before we enter. Back the truck up, Coop. Let's open it up."

Everyone backed outside and, at Ben's orders, slipped into gas masks. Cooper put the big deuce-and-a-half in grandma and backed up, the chains tightening, and the concrete slab howled in protest at being opened after all these years.

Generators were brought up and the tunnel was pumped out.

Ben, flashlight in hand, led the way down the steps into a cornucopia of supplies. Hundreds of crates, sealed tightly and dated, lined both sides of the wide corridor, floor to ceiling, further than Ben's flashlight beam could reach.

"Take what we need for this run," Ben ordered."Then we'll reseal the opening and cover it, and pick up the rest on our way back."

"How many more of these caches are there?" Linda asked, after having found a long floor-to-ceiling row of medical supplies.

"Several hundred that I know of," Ben said.

"I've only found the need to open a few of them."

"How many rounds of ammo you reckon is in here, General?" Wanda asked.

"Several million, I would imagine."

"Jesus!" Beerbelly, one of Leadfoot's men yelled, from a dark end of the corridor. "We got Jeeps and trucks and all sorts of vehicles down here." He walked back to the group. "The big door you pointed out."

"Right. Of course, there are fifty buildings just like this one on the base. Deliberately so."

"How did you know which building to come to?" Wanda asked.

Ben grinned. "I didn't. I guessed!"

Up long before dawn the next morning, Ben, coffee mug in hand and Jersey with him, as usual, went down to the highway to look over the newest addition to the Rebel army. The Piranha LAV, one nasty fighting machine. The Marines had had them in use for a few years prior to the Great War, and scrounging Rebel patrols had found where they had been warehoused. Hundreds of them.

This campaign would be the first Rebel combat test of the LAV'S.

The main reason the Rebels had not fielded the Piranhas prior to this was that the crews had to be trained from scratch on the machine. Not only were the Piranhas deadly instruments of war, they were also sophisticated machines, and could carry six infantry personnel into battle in addition to their crew of three.

Some Piranha mounted a 25mm automatic cannon, others were equipped with a 90mm cannon, and still others were refitted with 30mm Gatling guns, The Piranha had eight wheels and four axles, and that made it an 8x8. It could travel on hard surfaces at speeds up to sixty-five miles an hour, hit rivers at speeds up to thirty miles an hour, and swim along at nearly seven miles an hour.

Ben grinned in the predawn darkness. He patted the armor-plated side of the Piranha. "Slick, huh, Jersey?"

Jersey reserved comment; she had something else on her mind. "Since I know d.a.m.n well you're going to get right in the thick of any battle, General, how many of these things are you a.s.signing to us?"

Ben laughed softly. "Three of them, Jersey. So rest your mind. 25mm, 90mm, and one with 30mm Gatling gun."

Jersey, using a penlight, jotted that down.

"I'll hold you to that, General."Ben chuckled at her antics. She was looking after his safety and he knew it and appreciated it.

"Let me get this straight," Jersey said, flipping a page in her notepad. "This thing we're standing next to has the 25mm Bushmaster cannon, right?"

"That's right."

"It can be fired single shot, or full auto, up to two hundred rounds per minute."

"That's it. Impressive, huh, Jersey."

"We'll see. And I imagine we'll see up close. In addition it has one 7.62 machine gun, one .50-caliber machine gun, and two M257 smoke grenade launchers."

"You got it."

"That's a lot of firepower, General."

"I had the personal safety of my team in mind when I ordered them up, Jersey."

Jersey closed her notepad, looked at Ben, and burst out laughing. She walked away, still laughing.

Smiling, Ben called, "See, this is what I get for being such a nice guy!"

That brought on another round of laughter from Jersey.

She waved a hand and kept on walking, heading for the coffeepot in Ben's CP.

The commander of the LAV walked up, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"How do you like the Piranha?" Ben asked him.

"Love it. We put them through their paces on the way out here, General. It's a fine machine and they'll do everything they're built to do."

"Did you have a firefight?"

"Several of them. Bunch of punks. .h.i.t us in Kansas. We blew them clean off the highway.

That 30mm Gatling gun is one mean son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"What was your best fuel-conserving hard-surface speed?"

"About forty five miles an hour. At that speed, we can range about four hundred miles a tank.

But we're limited in their use because of the lack of crews for them."

"I understand. We're training as fast as we can."

Ben thumped the side of the LAV. "Did our engineers beef up this armor?"

"They sure did. We caught a 14.5 rocket and it didn't even leave a dent. Just rocked us some inside."

Ben nodded his approval. "Get the others ready to go. We're pulling out at 0500."

The LAV commander was anxious to show his stuff. "Are we spearheading, General?"

"Some Piranhas are. But don't worry, you'll get to see plenty of action."

"How's that, sir?"

"You're with me."

"All right!" the LAV crew chief said. "All right!"

Chapter Five"Where are the eastern units?" Ben asked.

Corrie.

"Set to go. Colonel West has swung around and is in place just south of the city. General Striganov is holding at Placerville, waiting for orders."

"Ike and Cecil?"

"General Ike is just north of Santa Rosa and General Jefferys is waiting just north of Napa.

All units are ready."

"Get everyone in the wagon."

"They're ready, sir."

"All right, let's do it."

The long column was stretched out on Highway 70.

Scouts and other forward recon units were already in place just north of the city, with West's people in place just south of Sacramento.

Ben got in the wagon and shut the door. He looked behind him. Smoot was curled up on the center seat, between Beth and Jersey.

"Give the orders to move out, Corrie. Let's go, Coop."

"What's our position this time, General?"

"Right behind the spearheaders. Get around all these others."

"And here we go," Beth muttered.

Breaking dawn found all Rebel units outside their objectives and ready for the attack. Ben got out of the wagon to stand for a moment in the cool, early morning air. The start of the most ambitious campaign ever undertaken by the Rebels was only seconds away from kicking off.

"Corrie, what does Leadfoot and his bunch report about the airport?"