Ashes - Standoff In The Ashes Part 24

they're on high alert. Our fighter pilots are chafing at the bit to go.

I'm tired of s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with Claire Osterman. If she wants to get down and dirty, that's fine with me. I'll show her dirty like she's never seen before."

Cecil looked at his long-time friend. Ben's face was grim, and his eyes hard and mean. Cecil could remember only a few times in their longa.s.sociation when Ben had appeared like this. He nodded in agreement with Ben's words. "I knew that someday it might come to this," the President of die SUSA said. "But I kept hoping it wouldn't."

"Osterman and her G.o.dd.a.m.ned socialist/democrats just won't let us live in peace," Ben replied. "G.o.d knows we have tried to get along."

"I will certainly agree with that," Cecil said. "I don't know what else we could have done."

"What's die mood of the people, Cec?"

"Ready for a fight. If Osterman's mercenaries and her Federal Army invade SUSA territory, they'll meet resistance such as they have never before known."

"Has Osterman begun evasive movements?"

"Oh, yes. We don't know where she is. She has stopped all public appearances, and is in hiding somewhere. We believe she is underground-literally."

"She has got to show her ugly face sometime. We'll nail her when she does."

"Then we'll have Harlan Millard to deal with, and he's just as bad as Claire Osterman."

"Or worse," Ben added. "I know it. But the people of the USA have to realize that the SUSA is here to stay. We're not going anywhere. They have to elect leaders who will try to get along with us. If they don't, we're going to be at each other's throats forever."

Cecil slowly shook his head. "Won't happen, Ben. Not 207.

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in our lifetime. Maybe never. If we somehow manage to get Claire Osterman out of the picture, Millard will step in. Shove him out of the way, some other liberal/democrat/ socialist will step up, and here we go again. Up in the USA it's worse than it was just before the collapse and the Great War. Since you've been gone I've been reading the newspapers and monitoring the television from the USA. It's sickening. I've never read and heard such propaganda in my life. They've changed history to the point where it's unrecognizable. It bears little resemblance to the history you and I learned. I received a shipment of textbooks from the USA last week. Talk about political correctness taken to the max ..."

Cecil shook his head. "We're fighting more than guns and bombs, Ben.

We're combatting an entire generation of people who have been brainwashed into believing the government can solve all problems. Not only can, but should solve them. We're fighting a philosophy that is embedded in the brains of millions of people."

Ben listened, letting Cecil vent his spleen. Ben knew all that Cec was saying, but he also knew that being president of a large nation, just like being the commanding general of a huge army, is sometimes a lonely job.

Cecil wound down and looked at Ben for a moment, then smiled. "I'm preaching to the choir, Ben. Sorry about that, ole' buddy."Ben returned the smile and waved off Cecil's apology. "We'll talk more when Ike and the others get here. What are you and yours doing for dinner this evening?"

Cecil grimaced. "Having a formal dinner with a representative from Great Britain." His face brightened. "Say ... I didn't know, of course, that you would be here. How would you like to attend?"

Ben quickly rose from his chair. He smiled and shook 208.

his head. "Sorry, Cec. I'm, ah, meeting with my brigade people this evening. But I sure wish I could be there."

"You're a liar, Ben," Cecil said with a laugh. "And not a very good one, either. All right, all right. Get out of here. I have work to do."

Ben left before Cecil could change his mind and insist he attend that stuffy d.a.m.ned dinner. Cecil was good at those formal affairs. Ben hated them.

Ben's team was waiting in the hall, and together they walked out of the unpretentious building that served as the capitol of the Southern United States of America. Nothing was very ostentatious about the SUSA. Here, practicality took the place of pretentiousness. The philosophy of the SUSA worked for those who chose to live there, and it worked without fanfare or pomp.

The mood of the nation was much like the manner of dress-casual for the most part. Ben Raines was, unargu-ably, the most powerful man in the SUSA-Cecil Jefferys would be the first to agree that Ben's voice was heard above all others-but Ben seldom wore anything other than BDUs or jeans when he was home, sometimes khakis.

Ben paused in front of the capitol office building and studied the scenes all around him. People were going to and from work, to and from shopping. No weapons were visible, but Ben knew for a fact that plenty were close by, ready to be grabbed in case the warnings went up.

"They're ready, Boss," Jersey said, watching Ben's eyes. "And they'll fight to the last man or woman for the SUSA."

"It might come to that," Ben told her. "For when we punch a hole up through the midwest, Osterman's people, some of them at least, will come pouring into the SUSA."

"If they do, they'll d.a.m.n sure wish they had stayed home," Corrie said.

"And kept their noses out of another country's business," Cooper added.

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"Occasionally, you do make some sense, Coop," Jersey said. "Usually when you agree with one of us."

Ben smiled as they walked along the wide sidewalk. That was somethingthat was required for any new street or development anywhere in the SUSA: sidewalks. (For those not familiar with the term, a sidewalk is a strip of concrete that runs along both sides of a street. It's for people to walk on, and kids to ride bikes on, even occasionally knock adults down-accidentally. During the latter part of the last century, for whatever reason, many developers seemed to forget all about sidewalks. Ben was determined that was not going to happen in the SUSA.) Ben and team came to a small park not far from the capitol building. Ben paused and then walked into the park and sat down on a bench. A woman was sitting on the bench across the rock walkway between the benches, watching her young son at play. She looked up at Ben, then quickly took another longer look. She paled as she recognized the founder of the SUSA and the commanding general of its army. She quickly rose as if to leave, motioning for her son to come to her.

"I don't bite, ma'am," Ben said with a smile.

She cut her eyes at Ben, flushed, then smiled. Then she laughed and sat back down on the bench. "It's not often we see the father of our country in the flesh, General Raines."

"Father of our country?" Ben said. "Well, that's a very interesting t.i.tle to hang on me." Ben knew that was how many referred to him. He didn't like it, but there was really nothing he could do about it.

"What happens next with this Osterman woman, General Raines? If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind at all. I said to my commanders that the next move was up to her. She's made it. I haven't made 210.

up my mind yet how to respond." Not quite the truth, but Ben wasn't about to show his hand to anyone just yet.

"Kill her," the young mother said bluntly. "Kill her and all her top people."

Ben stared at the young woman for a moment. "Just like that, ma'am?" he asked softly. Others in the park, recognizing Ben, began to gather around, under the cold and very watchful eyes of Ben's team. Ben's ever-present security detail was scattered throughout the small park.

"Just like that, General. She and her socialist/democrats started this c.r.a.p, not us. We never interfered in the way they ran their government.

n.o.body in the SUSA gives a d.a.m.n what the USA does ... as long as they keep their noses out of our business."

"It isn't time for a.s.sa.s.sinations," a man spoke up. ' 'There may come a time for them, but that time has not yet arrived."

"Oh, the h.e.l.l it isn't!" another man countered. "It's past time. Those are our sons and daughters and brothers and sisters on the line fighting. If killing Osterman and her supporters will end this war and let us get back to some sort of a normal life, I say do it."

Ben sat on the park bench and listened. In this small crowd, it was running about 99% in favor of killing Osterman.It didn't surprise Ben at all.

The crowd began to pick up in number, in opinions, and in volume. Ben's security detail got a little nervous, and about half of them moved closer and worked their way into the crowd, surrounding Ben and his personal team.

"General," a man said, "if that Osterman b.i.t.c.h sends troops to cross over our border in force ... I say you use everything that's in our a.r.s.enal."

"Wipe 'em out!" a woman shouted. "We all know we 211.

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have nuclear and germ and chemical weapons. By G.o.d, use them."

"Not nuclear weapons, Denise," a man said.

"I agree," a woman spoke. "No nukes. Even with our so-called clean nuclear weapons the results are just too terrible."

The SUSA had the highly advanced neutron bombs that would kill humans but not destroy buildings. Many of the same scientists who worked on the project in the USA before the collapse and the Great War were now working for Ben's SUSA.

"I'm not really sure why the USA hates us so," a young man remarked.

"Because we have a very small but highly efficient form of government,"

an older man answered, "while the USA went right back to a huge, complex form of government We have a few hundred laws that we enforce to the letter, while the USA has thousands of laws that are constantly being bent and twisted and reshaped and redefined. In other words, young man, the Tri-States philosophy of government works smoothly while Osterman's socialist/democrats have screwed their government up something awful."

"But that isn't all of it, is it?" the young man questioned.

"No, you're very correct, that isn't all of it. The Tri-States philosophy of government won't work for everybody. We never maintained that it would. But it works for those of us who have at least a modic.u.m of common sense and respect for the rights of others. It works for those of us who realize that as individuals we alone must take responsibility for our own actions and deeds. We don't blame society for our successes or failures."

Ben smiled. He recognized the speaker now-a professor at a local university. Ben had met him several times when forced into attending some function. There were 212.

no liberals in the SUSA's university system . . . d.a.m.n few anywhere in the SUSA.

The professor summed it up. "Our system works, young man, and thoseliving outside our borders just can't handle that."

"And we'll fight to keep our way of life," said a man who looked to be in his seventies, considerable emotion in his voice. Then he smiled proudly. "I was with the first bunch out in the northwest. One of the last of the original Tri-Staters." He tapped his leg with his cane.

"Lost my left leg during the a.s.sault by Federals." His smile faded. "And lost my wife during the last fight here, when we were overrun with punks. But I d.a.m.n sure killed my share of those rotten b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, and I'll do it again if the Feds get this far in. Bet on it."

The crowd broke up shortly after that until it was just Ben and the college professor left sitting on benches. Ben smiled at the man.

"Afternoon, professor."

The professor returned the smile. "General Raines. Good to see you again. How goes the war?"

"So far, so good. I suppose you've heard about Madam President Osterman's hiring of mercenaries ... it seems to have spread like wildfire."

"I heard. It sickened me, but didn't surprise me. And I doubt it surprised you."

"No. Not at all."

"We will win this conflict, won't we?"

"Oh, yes, we'll win. I don't know how much of the USA will be left intact, but we'll win. Have no illusions about that."

"Do you think the SUSA will ever be allowed to exist in peace?"

"Someday, yes. But not in our lifetime." Ben rose from the bench and held out his hand. The professor took it.

"Good luck to you, General Raines."

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"Same to you."

Ben and his team walked on. The professor sat alone on the park bench and watched him walk away. "Someday," he whispered. "Someday."

214.

The final opinion among the brigade commanders was in, and their answers came as no surprise to Ben: Invade the USA. Hit the USA hard and fast, and take the war to their doorstep. Let them have a taste of it.

Mike Richards had just sent a terse message from Europe: Mercenaries on their way. ETA, ten days.

"We can't get enough people up north in time to prevent their landing,"

Ben said. "The Feds have begun shifting some troops around in antic.i.p.ation of our trying that. So we won't even attempt it. Besides, I'm not at all certain the meres are coming in by ship, or if they are,if that's where they're docking. That information was just too easy to come by. It's my opinion they'll be landing at various ports on both coasts, as well as coming in by plane. I've delayed air strikes until we learn for sure where the staging area will be."

Ben smiled with a savage curving of his lips and took a sip of water.

"When they do land, they're going to find 215.

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their host country cut up into several pieces." Ben eye-balled each brigade commander for a few seconds. "We go on the attack, people. Day after tomorrow at 0600 hours. Move hard and fast. If it's in the way, knock it down or burn it. 501st, 503rd, 505th, 507nd, and 509th brigades will advance into USA territory. The others will spread out and hold.

You all know the drill. No point in wasting time going over covered ground. Get back to your units. Good luck, people."

Ben shook hands and chatted briefly with each commander, a few moments longer with his kids-Tina, commander of 509 Brigade, and Buddy, commander of 508 Brigade.

"Get your bottom lip stuck back in, boy," Ben told his son with a smile.

"Stop pouting about not going in with us. Your people are going to be busy holding what you've got."

"I am not pouting, Father!"

"Sure looks like it to me," Tina said, giving her brother a rude elbow in the ribs.

Buddy sighed with great patience.

"I just got this, Boss," Corrie said, walking up holding a message pad.

"General Walter Berman has just been named commanding general of all troops east of the Mississippi River. No word on who is commanding west of the river."

"Berman is a mercenary," Ben mused. "That's a slap in the face to the USA forces."