Ashes - Standoff In The Ashes Part 18

"What do you want us to do while the police and the other town officials are in jail, General?"

"Nothing, until others can join us in this minor rebellion," Ben explained.

"That's already happening in towns in and around the park," Chuck said.

He lifted a small walkie-talkie and smiled. "I just heard from several people. The other groups didn't want to wait. The revolt is on!"

Everyone present smiled. Ben said nothing for a moment. He looked ateach of the men and women for several seconds, wondering if many of them really knew 158.

what they were getting into. Well, he thought, they 're d.a.m.n sure about to find out.

"I guess it's fish or cut bait time, ladies and gentlemen," Ben said.

"If you're in now, there's no turning back."

"Point of no return, General?" an older man said with a smile.

"That's it."

"Suits me," a woman said. "I'd rather die than go on living under a socialist regime. This isn't just our country, we all live and work here. We're not trying to run the lives of those who politically disagree with us, but we don't want them to run our lives, either." She shook her head. "I'm not saying this right. But everyone here knows what I mean."

Lara touched the woman's hand. "Yes, we do, Pattie. All of us do."

"Get the weapons we just cached," Ben said. "And be ready to use them .

. . and I mean use them to kill without hesitation. And bear this in mind-there will be no turning back for any of you who take part in this revolt. Once you're committed, it's going to be all the way. Think about that. Give that a lot of thought. Take a few minutes to talk it over among yourselves. I'm going to walk over there by myself and smoke a cigarette while you talk. You're putting your lives and the future of your families' lives on the line."

"We know that, General," a man said. "We've talked it all out at dozens of quiet little meetings over the past couple of years. What you see here is the, well, hard-core, if you will. And this is not all of our little resistance group. There will be about fifty or so more people joining us as the night wears on-from eighteen years of age to men and women in their seventies. There will be about a hundred of us to begin with. Others will, of course, join in if they see we're going to win.

You know those types."

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"Oh, yes," Ben said. "I know the type very well."

Those types who complain about this, that, or the other thing, but refuse to do anything positive about it, Ben thought. They would never join any organization or group who would actually consider taking up arms against the government. . . as a final act, after all else has failed. Oh no! Why . . . that would be unthinkable. Oh, no, is their thinking. Better to live under a near dictatorship than to actually fight and run the risk of getting wounded or killed.

However, if a group of people were to actually fight the government and it appeared that group was going to win, well, now, that's different.

Those constantly complaining, do-little-or-nothing types would be only too happy to join in the final stages of any campaign. After theshooting and all the personal risk-taking is over, of course.

Oh, yes, Ben knew those types quite well.

"It's going to be a sleepless night, folks," Ben said. "And it could very well turn out to be a b.l.o.o.d.y one. So give that latter note some thought for a couple of minutes while I walk over there and grab a smoke."

Ben walked over to a parked car, leaned against it, and had a cigarette while the group of men and women on the corner talked in low tones.

He wanted them to talk it all out-get it settled- because when all the resistance people were gathered Ben had final words to drop on them, and that was going to separate the sheep from the goats.

An hour later, Ben looked over the group, now numbering just under one hundred men and women. They had gathered in a local church. Those guarding the jail and manning the checkpoints on the roads leading into town were from Chuck's group, all of them wanted men and 160.

William W. Johnstone women with rewards on their heads. Ben didn't have to talk to them. They would stand.

Ben stood up in front of the group, but not behind the pulpit. Talking about killing from the pulpit seemed a bit hypocritical to Ben. "In about an hour, folks, we're going to start rounding up hard-line socialists. We're probably going to have to kick some a.s.s while doing it. That means shooting. And when there is shooting, someone is going to get killed. People you know. People you have perhaps known all your life. A person who was once-before politics got in the way-your best friend. They might be your brother or sister, mother or father, son or daughter, aunt or uncle, niece or nephew, cousin. But when they point a gun at you, or come at you with a club or a knife ..." Ben shrugged.

"What happens next is up to you. But I warn you of this, and it is a warning, if you cause the death of a fellow Rebel-and from this moment on that's what you are, Rebels-because of your hesitation or outright refusal to act in a swift and decisive manner ... I'll personally see that you are put in front of a firing squad and executed."

No one in the audience so much as blinked. Ben knew then he was dealing with men and women who were ready to lay down their lives for a cause, a belief.

"I've just received word that many of the towns within the boundaries of the park are now under Rebel control... at least for the moment. As soon as the park is firmly secure, we'll start moving out and keep moving until the entire upper section of New York State is free of this d.a.m.n socialistic rule. The next step is to seize an airport, so we can be resupplied when the time comes. I've got a site in mind. That'll be my job. Your job is to wrest control from the current powers-that-be and bring at least this part of the nation back under Const.i.tutional rule.

We can do it. I know we can. I've done it. It's a h.e.l.l of a lot easier than it sounds."

Ben paused for a moment, looking over the men and161 161.

women gathered in the church. "Any questions before we start kicking a.s.s and taking names?"

One woman stood up. "General?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Let's cut the talk about it and do it!"

Ben laughed. "All right, ma'am. Let's do it!"

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The resistance fighters began moving in all directions inside the park.

"We've got to move fast tonight," Ben had told the men and women just before they moved out. "We've got to hit hard and seize control of as many towns as possible before the state or federal government can react and send in help."

"And we won't be able to hold all the towns we take, will we, General?"

Ben was asked.

' 'Probably not. We'll lose a few. But other groups around the nation have already begun to form up and strike. More will follow with each success we have."

"And if they don't?" a man asked Ben.

"We'll be in trouble and we'll have to pull back, regroup, and make new plans."

"Federal police!" a sentry outside the church yelled. "Coming in by helicopters. A lot of them."

"Go, people!" Ben said. "Get out of here. You know 163.

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what to do. Drive without lights until you're clear. Don't get taken alive. Shoot your way in and out of blockades. Do it, folks. Go, go."

"Here they come, Ben!" Lara yelled from a side door. "It's the FPPS."

"Those G.o.dd.a.m.n Black Shirts!" Belle said. "Don't let those Federal b.a.s.t.a.r.ds take you alive."

The Federal Secret Police, who usually came in by black helicopter and wore black jumpsuits when staging a raid, had become known as the Black Shirts.

The sounds of at least a dozen or more helicopters roaring in and over the town became louder."Attack!" Ben yelled, grabbing his CAR and heading for the door. "Take the offensive, people. Open fire now, d.a.m.nit! Open fire on the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!"

Gunfire split the night, the sounds of the gunfire m.u.f.fled down to nearly inaudible by the roaring of the helicopters.

The door gunners in the choppers opened fire with what sounded like M-60 machine guns, and one long burst tore into the side windows of the church and splintered the floor where Ben had been standing just seconds before.

"Shoot out diose f.u.c.king searchlights on the choppers!'' Ben yelled.

He lifted his CAR and gave the nearest chopper half a mag, the 5.56 rounds blowing out the high beam searchlight on the front of the helicopter.

"Shoot for the open side doors," Ben yelled to Lara. "Pa.s.s that word.

Kill tfiose gunners first. The c.o.c.kpit on diese new jobs is heavily armored."

Dozens of CARs-the chopped down version of the M-16-in the hands of resistance fighters on the ground opened up and began yammering. Several M-60 side guns on the choppers abruptly fell silent and one gunner toppled half in, half out of the door, held there by his harness.

Chuck ran to Ben's side. "h.e.l.l of a good move outfitting 164.

everybody from the supply drop, General. I think we can more than hold our hold now."

"We'd d.a.m.n well better do more than that," Ben yelled over the noise of battle.

"I hear you," Chuck said.

Then there was no more time for conversation as a dozen of the choppers landed and began spilling out Black Shirts. Ben jerked a grenade from his battle harness and held it up so those around him could see. They nodded and grabbed grenades.

Ben pulled the pin and held the spoon down until those around him had time to do the same. "Now!" he yelled, and chucked the grenade.

One of the grenades-no one would ever be sure who threw it-landed inside a helicopter door just as the chopper was settling down in an empty lot alongside the church. It blew, and so did the chopper. The chopper must have been carrying a lot of explosives, or its fuel tanks had just been topped off. When it blew, it colored the evening skies, shattered nearby windows, and dotted the landscape with hot metal and various body parts.

The concussion caught a second chopper and flipped it, landing the chopper upside down. The second chopper didn't explode, but it sure ruined the evening of those Black Shirts who were inside-the resistance fighters on the ground further complicated their evening by opening fire on those who tried to escape the wrecked chopper.

The Black Shirts had not antic.i.p.ated so great a number of resistance fighters, nor had they suspected the men and women would be so well-armed. They had landed smack in the middle of a firestorm.And the firestorm was gathering strength as the fires of hate were fanned-the hatred of those opposed to living under any type of socialistic government had been intense, 165.

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and had grown hotter as time pa.s.sed and more and more personal liberties were taken away from citizens.

The resistance fighters were taking out their discontent on the Black Shirts.

Half a dozen of the pilots wisely aborted attempts to land in the middle of the maelstrom and roared off into the night skies. Those Black Shirts who were just una.s.sing the choppers and had not found cover were cut to pieces by the resistance fighters.

One more chopper was damaged by several grenades and was forced to set down hard. Ben and those grouped with him opened fire on the chopper with everything they had. Several rounds finally punched-or somehow made their way-through the impact-loosened windshield and hit the pilot. In his panic, or final death throes, the pilot managed to really screw up matters for those on board. The chopper surged upward violently for fifty or so yards, slowly turned onto its side, and came crashing down to the ground.

Scratch one chopper and all the Black Shirts on board.

"Let's get out of here, Ben!" Lara urged.

"No!" Ben's reply was sharp. "We finish it. We don't leave until it's over. Pa.s.s the word."

"OK, Ben. You're the boss."

The town's residents wisely stayed inside while the shooting was going on. They knew the area's resistance groups had gathered, and were aware that the town's police were locked in their own jail, but there was very little that any of them could do about the situation. Most of the residents were members of the socialist/democrat party, and didn't believe in any private ownership of firearms.

They were, one might conclude, victims of, and prisoners in, a situation of their own doing.

Those residents of the town who were moderately conservative in their thinking but for whatever reason did not 166.

wish to take part in the revolt sat in their homes and wondered what this night would bring.

It was bringing death to any Black Shirt who refused to lay down his weapons and pack it in.

"Got some here who want to surrender, General!" a member of Chuck'sgroup called as the gunfire was winding down.

"All right," Ben returned. "Stick them in the jail and get someone to see to any wounded.

"Ben Raines!" The shout came from behind a small building a few seconds later. "We know that's you out there. Listen, we've had it. We give up!"

' 'Suits me," Ben shouted.' 'Come on out with your hands in the air.

Don't do anything stupid."

"We won't. I promise. Don't shoot."

The fight was over. The Black Shirts were confined to a two block area of the town in the park and they began wisely giving up, calling out to the resistance fighters.

"Get the town's doctors and nurses out here," Ben told Chuck. "Let's see to the wounded."

"That's a h.e.l.l of a lot more than they would do for us," Chuck told him.

"You serious?"

"You bet I am. I've seen it."

"So let's show them we're better people."

"If you say so, General."

"I say so. Lara? While we're doing that, you find out how the other groups are doing, how many towns have been taken by our people."

"Will do."