Ashes - Standoff In The Ashes Part 17

"Right, and it sure as h.e.l.l has done just that with these sorry b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and b.i.t.c.hes who now wear the badges in the United States."

"What about Saranac Lake?" Dave asked.

Ben grinned. "We take control of it ... tomorrow night."

Ben had not shaved in about a week, and his beard was naturally heavy.

He was well on the way to having a full beard-a sculptured one. A few hours before the a.s.sault on the park town was to take place, he carefully trimmed and then shaved his upper cheeks and neck: the beard was coming along nicely. He didn't think it would fool anyone up close, but it might cause them to hesitate, and that would be all the time that Ben needed to get in the first punch, or shot, as the case might be.

He had asked and had been pleasantly surprised to find that Chuck's people had a comprehensive list of people with conservative leanings and those who were solid left wing. Militias and survivalist groups had begun compiling those lists several years back, and the lists were long.

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"But those with conservative leanings have been disarmed, and are watched," Ben was advised.

"Well, they're about to be rearmed," Ben replied. "And they'll be taking over the policing of the communities we free from Osterman's rule. Oncewe're successful in half a dozen of these raids, other groups around the USA will start following suit. We're going to reclaim the USA, folks.

One community at a time."

President Claire Osterman sat in the Oval Office in the new White House and silently cursed. The war with the SUSA was not going well. Not going well at all.

Her Federals had one minor victory to their credit, in Tennessee. They had captured Ben Raines. After that, Raines's Rebels had toughened up and started kicking a.s.s all along the border.

Now Ben Raines had escaped from custody and was somewhere in the huge Adirondacks Park with a bunch of ragtag, idiotic, militia types.

"s.h.i.t!" Madam President Osterman muttered.

Her intel people had informed her about the supply drop in the park the past night-a ma.s.sive drop of equipment. Her small, ill-equipped and poorly trained Air Force had scrambled a squadron of fighters to mix it up with the Rebels. Not a single Federal plane had returned. The G.o.dd.a.m.n Rebels had shot down every one of her fighters.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!" she muttered.

She had to hire more mercenaries to fight the Rebels. She had no choice in the matter. One of her advisors had proposed bringing back the draft, and Claire had been horrified at just the thought. Good G.o.d! Decent people don't grub about in the military. That was something one hired done. If they got killed, well, society hadn't lost much of anything.

Her own father had evaded the draft during 148.

that debacle in Vietnam years back, skipping off to Canada with a group of others from the university. She remembered how proud of that he had been. He had often told her that only people of very dubious intelligence served in the military; certainly not people of quality.

In order to hire more soldiers Claire would have to raise taxes. Just had to be done. Couldn't help it. People had to sacrifice in order to maintain a perfect society where everyone was equal. The citizens would understand. She was sure of that. Defeating Ben Raines and returning the SUSA to the Union would be worth it.

Of course, once all that was accomplished taxes would probably have to be raised just a teeny weeny bit more, for the reindoctrination of those misguided people who lived in the SUSA would be costly. It was certainly something that had to be done. Couldn't have a bunch of people running around believing diat the average citizens had a right to own guns.

Heavens, no!

Unthinkable.

Allowing a moment of silence in public school could certainly not be allowed, either. Absolutely not! Those foolish people who mumbled prayers to some mythical being would soon be contaminating the minds of truly intelligent people who knew the Bible was nothing but a good yarn, pure fiction.And who knew what that d.a.m.ned Ben Raines was up to in the wilderness?

For sure the G.o.dd.a.m.ned troublemaker was plotting something against the government ... that much was a given. But what? And why did he want all those supplies that were parachuted into the park? What kind of supplies were they, and what was he going to do with them?

Madam President Osterman leaned back in her ma.s.sive leather chair, a frown on her face. As much as she hated Ben Raines, she could not allow herself to underestimate 151.

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the man. She had done that several times in the past, and had soon regretted it. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was smart, she had to admit that-albeit very, very reluctantly.

The problem with that d.a.m.ned park was that it was hugel When her State Police or Federal troops did go in after those miserable militia types, they never came back out. The park was b.o.o.by-trapped, and very dangerous.

Claire pushed back her chair and stood up. She paused for a minute, looking out the window. What a lovely day. Then the face of Ben Raines entered her mind and spoiled everything. G.o.d, she hated that arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

She sure wished she knew what he was going to do next. She frowned again. Whatever it was, it would be destructive, that was for certain.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d enjoyed blowing things up.

Claire sat back down. She had developed a raging headache just thinking about him.

"Ben Raines, you rotten, right-wing son of a b.i.t.c.h!" she blurted.

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1935 will go down in history! For the first time a civilized nation has full gun registration! Our streets will be safer, our police more efficient, and the world will follow our lead in the future!

-Adolf Hitler 153.

When a majority of a nation's population elects to support a socialist/communist regime, those opposed to such a form of government (the minority) have few options left them. They can revolt against the ruling government, but if the entire civilian population has been disarmed, their weapons confiscated (taken by force under threat of death or imprisonment) by government agents, their options become rather slim. Under such a form of government, block wardens, or watchers, suddenly rise to the fore. Neighbors, men and women and young people who were once friends, become suspicious and very wary of each other, for who knows who is reporting what to the town's central committee?

Once the entire civilian population is disarmed (except for certain selected individuals fanatically loyal to the democrat/ socialist/communist regime) the normally law-abiding citizens are mucheasier to control with less manpower (excuse me, all you feminists: person power).

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Those types who choose to wear or carry badges under such a restrictive and oppressive form of government also tend to get a bit c.o.c.ky-very much impressed with their own self-importance.

Ben Raines and his new northeast command of militia and survivalists took all the steam out of the local federal police force just after sundown.

The dispatcher and the one person working the desk looked up and found themselves staring at a dozen heavily armed men and women, all wearing camo BDUs.

"Don't do anything stupid," Ben warned the pair. "And you'll live. Screw up and you're going to get seriously dead in a hurry. Understand?"

They both nodded their complete understanding of the situation and the ramifications involved. They were only too happy to comply.

Several of Chuck's people quickly disarmed the pair of Federal police and then emptied the gun racks and the small a.r.s.enal of the police station.

"Call your patrols back here," Ben ordered the dispatcher. "If I sense a code word being used to warn them, I'll kill you where you sit, understand?"

"Yes, sir," the dispatcher said. "I sure do."

"Do it."

Ten minutes later, the night shift of the town's police force were locked in their own jail. Twenty minutes after that, the other members of the town's federal police force had been rousted out of bed and were locked down.

"By G.o.d, I'll see you all hang for this!" the police chief bl.u.s.tered.

It was an empty threat coming from a man standing in his drawers.

"My, my, he sure has skinny legs and k.n.o.bby knees, doesn't he?" Belle said.

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"You dirty, rotten, filthy militia wh.o.r.e!" the police chief yelled.

"Got a mouth on him, too," Val observed.

"To h.e.l.l with you, b.i.t.c.h!" the chief hollered. "I'll see all of you hang, you . . . you . . . traitors!"

Ben stepped closer to the barred door of die cell and the chief squinted and paled. "Ben Raines," he whispered. "You d.a.m.ned fascist!"

' 'You certainly are in a mood for name calling this evening, aren't you, Chief?" Ben questioned. Ben lifted the muzzle of his CAR and poked the chief in the belly with it. "Not too smart for a man in yourpredicament, I would say."

"I'm not afraid to die!" die chief yelled.

"You're a d.a.m.n liar," Ben told him. "Everyone is afraid to die, whether they'll admit it or not."

"I'm not!" the chief hollered.

"OK," Ben said. He turned to Belle and Val. "You two take this b.a.s.t.a.r.d out back of die jail and shoot him."

"What?" the chief said. He began backing up in the cell. "Now you just wait just a d.a.m.n minute here!"

Ben stuck the big key in the lock.

"Whoa!" the chief said. "I don't want to die. I changed my mind. What the h.e.l.l do you people want here in my town?"

"Your town," Ben told him. "That's all we want."

The chief blinked a couple of times. "My town? Well ... you can't have it! That's absurd!"

Ben turned as other members of his group herded in the mayor and half a dozen others of the town's leading citizens . .. including several females. None of those being prodded along by gun barrels looked very happy about the situation.

"The gang's all here," Dave announced cheerfully. "The town's leading socialists."

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Ben pointed to a row of cells and smiled. "Take your choice of rooms."

"Now see here!" the mayor protested. "What's going on here? Who are you people?"

"Ben Raines," the police chief said. He pointed a finger at Ben. "Him."

"Oh, my G.o.d!" the mayor breathed as he and the others were being herded into two of the jails' four-bunk cells. "The Rebels have invaded us."

"Bread and water for thirty days," Lara said. "For all of them."

"Bread and water!" one of the female council members screamed. "n.o.body can live on that. That's inhuman."

"Ah, h.e.l.l, lady," Belle said, taking in the lady's rather rounded shape.

"You can stand to lose a few pounds. It'll be good for you."

' 'How dare you!'' the woman squalled.' 'Just who do you think you are?"

"Well ... I suppose freedom fighters is a good way to describe us,"

Belle said.

"Freedom!" the council member hollered. "A bunch of d.a.m.ned terrorists is what you are."Ben laughed. "One man's terrorist is another's freedom fighter, lady."

"You're nothing but a d.a.m.ned, right-wing, fascist Republican!" she hissed at Ben.

"That's not quite true," Ben replied. "Actually, I was an independent for years before the Great War, lady. h.e.l.l, I actually voted for several Democrats."

The woman sneered at him and said nothing.

Ben motioned his people out of the cell block area and closed the door.

He turned to Chuck. "You've gathered together some people who support our movement?"

"We've got a dozen or so at a lodge on the outskirts of town. No one else in town knows what's going on. Everyone 157.

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else is home watching TV or reading or getting ready for bed."

"Good deal. All right. Let's go see these people."

The meeting was short, with Ben telling those present to wait for his signal before arming themselves with the weapons taken from the police and other 'selected citizens' who were supporters of the Osterman regime.

The weapons had been hidden outside of town; well hidden, but easily accessible.

"How long do we wait, and what are the odds of us failing?" Ben was asked.

"The wait won't be long. The odds of failing are high. If we do fail, and there is a good chance we will, you'll probably all be killed during the attempt, or tried and convicted as terrorists and shot or hanged."

"Under this liberal regime that doesn't believe in the death penalty?" a woman asked, a slight but very sarcastic smile on her lips .

"Don't ask me to explain Osterman's philosophy," Ben replied, shaking his head. "The best I can come up with is it's a ma.s.sive f.u.c.k-up with one hand not having the vaguest idea what the other is doing.''

"That's not a bad explanation," a man said. "It's as good as any I've heard."