Tyranny in the Ashes, page 16
“ ‘Bottger probably killed them all,’ Cooper said.
“ ‘Half a million of them?’ Jersey questioned. ‘I don’t think so, Cooper.’ Then she frowned. ‘Well . . . maybe you are right, Cooper. As much as I hate to admit it.’
“ ‘He might have used the gas on them,’ Ben said. ‘Or a form of experimental gas while his scientists were working all the bugs out of it—so to speak. We’ll know when we get there, I suppose.’
“ ‘I don’t understand why he’s killing off all the people,’ Jersey said.
“ ‘Cuts down on the resistance problem, Jersey,’ Ben told her.
“ ‘And damn sure helps to keep the rest of the people in line.’
“ ‘I can see where that certainly would,’ Jersey replied.
“ ‘Says here that there are over forty ethnic groups each with their own language,’ Beth said, reading from the travel brochure. She winked at Anna and added, ‘And Cooper, here’s something for you: Watch out for the Gaboon viper.’
“ ‘The what?’ Cooper asked.
“ ‘It’s a snake, Coop. The largest and heaviest viper in all of Africa. Grows to a length of about eight feet long and can weigh up to twenty-five pounds. It’s very deadly. Likes to crawl into sleeping bags at night and snuggle up to the sleeper.’
“ ‘The son of a bitch wouldn’t snuggle up to me for very long,’ Cooper said. ‘I’d be out of that sleeping bag before it could open its mouth.’
“Cooper shuddered and made a terrible-looking face. Cooper hated snakes of all types, sizes, and descriptions. ‘Jesus, I don’t even like to think about that.’
“ ‘Relax, Cooper,’ Beth told him. ‘This snake is found in central Africa, in the tropical rain forests.’
“ ‘Of course, Coop,’ Ben said, ‘there are all types of poisonous snakes here in Africa. For instance, the one you really better look out for is the spitting cobra.’
“Cooper shook his head and cut his eyes to Ben for a second. ‘I read all about those nasty things. They spit venom that can blind you.’
“ ‘Always keep your sun shades on, Cooper,’ Jersey told him.
“ ‘Protect your eyes.’
“ ‘If I do that, how the hell am I supposed to see at night?’
“ ‘Carefully, Coop,’ Jersey told him with a straight face. ‘Very carefully.’
“After a moment, Cooper slowly held up his right hand and gave Jersey the bird.
“Beth covered her face with the travel brochure to stifle her giggling as Jersey and the others burst out laughing. The laughter lasted only a few seconds. Corrie suddenly held up a hand as her headset began crackling with transmissions.
“ ‘Scouts report the town just up ahead is populated. Lots of sick and dying. No apparent gunshot wounds. The interpreter is trying to make some sense of it all now.’
“ ‘How many people?’ Ben questioned.
“ ‘Several thousand. They’re not unruly. Just sitting and waiting to die. The scouts’ words, Boss.’
“ ‘Are the scouts in protective gear?’
“ ‘Gas masks only.’
“ ‘Halt the column, Ben,’ Doctor Chase’s voice popped over a speaker. ‘If the scouts haven’t dropped dead or started showing some signs of sickness in thirty minutes, we’ll proceed into the town . . . the advance party of medical people wearing full protective gear.’
“ ‘You’re the boss on this, Lamar,’ Ben replied. ‘It’s your call from here on in.’ Ben then gave orders to halt the column.
“ ‘Some of Bottger’s gas?’ Cooper wondered.
“ ‘Probably,’ Ben said. ‘But it might be starvation or some natural disease. It’s all up to Chase’s people now. Corrie, tell the troops to un-ass their vehicles and stretch. Double the guards.’
“ ‘Now we wait,’ Anna said.
“Ben nodded. ‘Now we wait.’
“Chase’s bio/med team entered the town and got their equipment ready. Several of them took the scouts into their mobile lab to check them out, while the others began inspecting the town and the residents, checking the air and the water and the soil.
“It did not take the bio/med team long to determine that the air was fine to breathe, but the water had more germs in it than a city garbage dump . . . but they were nature’s bugs, not man-made. The people were not contagious and posed no threat to the Rebels.
“The bio/med team gave the column the okay to enter the town.
“ ‘Bottger’s gas cause this?’ Ben asked, stepping out of his vehicle and looking around.
“ ‘We’re running analyses now, General. But if I had to make a guess, I’d say yes.’
“ ‘What has the interpreter been able to find out?’
“ ‘Just that one day everybody felt fine, the next day people were getting sick and dying all around them. Whatever it was, it touched everyone with violent nausea, uncontrollable diarrhea, and high fever . . . Breathing became very difficult, and then death to most. Those who survived are very weak, but we think they’re going to make it.’
“ ‘Bottger’s crap,’ Ben said.
“ ‘Probably.’
“ ‘What can you do for the people?’
“ ‘Well, actually, very little, sir. Give those who are dying a shot to ease them on their way out. That’s about it.’
“ ‘Do it,’ Doctor Chase said, walking up and catching the last part of the report.
“ ‘Yes, sir.’
“Chase turned to face Ben, then grimaced and said, ‘Why should I tell you, Raines; you’d just turn around and tell Corrie. I might as well start giving all orders to her from the outset. Besides, she’s a lot easier on the eyes than you are.’ He turned to face Corrie. ‘You know the drill, dear: no drinking of the water, no petting of animals, no fraternization with the locals. See that those orders are passed up and down the line promptly, please.’
“ ‘Certainly, sir.’
“Chase smiled. ‘It’s so nice to see that someone in this team knows something about military courtesy.’ He turned and strolled off before Ben could retort, chuckling as he walked.
“ ‘Somebody must have put thumbtacks in the old goat’s oatmeal this morning,’ Ben said. ‘Feisty old bastard.’
“Lamar Chase was definitely too old for the field . . . Ben knew it and Lamar knew it. But he was in excellent health and showed no signs of slowing down. As long as he could keep up, he would stay in the field. Like Ben, when it came time for him to leave the grinding world of combat campaigns, he would know and would do so voluntarily . . . He would not have to be told. Both Ben and Chase knew that day was coming for them, but neither of them liked to dwell much on it.
“ ‘Let’s see what we’ve got in this town,’ Ben said. ‘As if we didn’t know,” he added.
“Death, suffering and hopelessness, Beth wrote in her journal as the team walked along. And: Nearly all of Africa is the same. No matter where we go we see the same thing. Bruno Bottger is not responsible for everything that has happened to these poor people, but he is certainly to blame for most of it. He is an evil, immoral man, probably insane, who must be destroyed . . . no matter the cost.
“She carefully noted the name of the town, dated the page, then closed the journal and tucked it away in her rucksack and buckled the flap.
“Ben was also keeping a journal, and in content, it was surprisingly very similar to the one Beth was keeping.
“The other members of the team felt the same way as Beth and Ben about Bottger . . . as did the entire Rebel Army. They had all been pursuing the rotten bastard for too long . . . over thousands of miles and two continents.
“It was time to bring it to an end.
“ ‘Gas masks on,’ Ben ordered. ‘The smell is going to be tough.’
“That order did not have to be repeated, for the odor was very foul.
“ ‘Corrie,’ Ben said, after only a few minutes of walking through the human suffering. ‘Get the engineers up here with their equipment. We’ve got to get these bodies in the ground. Many of the dead are rotting. We’ve got to get these dead buried . . . and do it damn quick.’
“No matter where the Rebels looked, there were rotting, maggot-covered bodies. It wasn’t a matter of the living not caring: The survivors were just too weak to bury their dead. They just did not have the strength.
“Wild dogs and hyenas had made their way into the town to join the birds of prey in dining on what appeared to be hundreds of bodies . . . and there was plenty of dead and rotting flesh to satisfy even the most indiscriminate of appetites, and hyenas and vultures were neither picky nor dainty eaters.
“The birds of prey did not seem to mind the Rebels walking among them as they ripped and tore off strips and hunks of flesh. The hyenas were another story: The savage animals with their bone-crunching jaws presented a clear menace to the Rebels.
“ ‘Try to chase them off,’ Ben ordered. ‘They’re only doing what they were put on earth to do ... as disgusting as it is. If they won’t back off, shoot them.’
“After a dozen of the hyenas were shot, the rest began backing away, reluctantly, from the dead, long enough for the Rebels to toss the bodies into the beds of trucks . . . if the bodies didn’t fall apart when they were picked up; then it got really interesting for the Rebels, interesting being a totally inadequate word in describing the procedure.
“ ‘Jesus Christ, Ben,’ the XO, John Michaels, said after a few moments. ‘We came over here to fight, not to be subjected to this.’
“ ‘I know, John. I know. I’m not real thrilled about it either, I assure you.’
“ ‘Then why are we doing it, Ben? We sure as hell don’t have to.’
“ ‘Because there is no one else to do it, John. If there were no living watching us—many of them relatives of the dead, I’m sure—I’d have the bodies scraped up into a pile and use the town for a funeral pyre.’
“The XO shook his mask-covered head. ‘Sorry, Ben. I’m just blowing off steam.’
“ ‘I know you are, John. And I understand your frustration. I feel the same way. Believe me, I do.’
“ ‘What a fucking thankless miserable job for these young men and women,” John replied, his eyes on the Rebels struggling with the rotting bodies.
“ ‘It wasn’t all that thrilling an experience for the dead either, John. Especially when you take into account they didn’t know why it was happening to them . . . or even what was happening to them. But as long as my Rebels are handling the dead, their officers are going to stay with them and witness all the horror of it. I want us all to understand what manner of men we’re fighting.’
“ ‘I believe they will all know that, Ben, to the fullest extent.’
“ ‘So they shall, John. I want them to know the stink and the rot and the total evil of Bottger and his dream, so when they move against that son of a bitch and his men, there will be damn little pity or compassion shown.’
“ ‘I think we can both be sure of that, Ben.’ John looked into Ben’s eyes and inwardly shuddered. He felt as though he were gazing through the fiery, smoky gates into Hell itself.
“ ‘This last leg of the campaign is going to be a brutal, bloody bastard,’ the XO said. ‘There won’t be a survivor left from the other side . . . not unless they give it up right now and beg for mercy.’ John had been with Ben for a long time, and he had witnessed firsthand how low-down and mean Ben could be when he got pissed . . . and right now he was plenty pissed.”
Perro Loco put down the transcript of the expedition written by Robert Barnes, war correspondent for the United Press, and the journals written by Raines and the female member of his team. Ben Raines was part madman, he concluded, making him a far more formidable adversary.
Ben Raines and his men were tough, apparently unafraid of a madman like Bruno Bottger or any of his Nazi weapons, even chemical and germ warfare. It would be a test of Loco’s fighting men to face a general like Ben Raines. Loco could only hope that Raines’s battles with the forces of the USA had weakened him.
It was a gamble worth taking, a chance to control all of the American continent. What difference would it make if he lost a few thousand men? Fighting men were expendable. Central and South America were full of men who were willing to risk their lives for the promise of money.
Twenty-two
Harley Reno and Hammer Hammerick were riding in the lead jeep with a couple of Gato’s men as they headed deeper into the jungle. The second jeep contained Corrie and Beth, and the third held Gato, Ben, and Anna, who refused to leave Ben’s side when Jersey wasn’t around to guard him.
Ben was talking to Gato about what he thought Perro Loco’s plans were when he saw Reno suddenly reach over the driver of his jeep, grab the wheel, and steer the vehicle off the trail into the brush.
Ben grabbed his driver’s shoulder and yelled, “Stop!”
As the others jeeps slid to a stop, Reno and Hammer vaulted out of the lead one and jogged back to meet them.
“What’s going on, Harley?” Ben asked.
“I saw light reflecting off a glass up ahead,” Reno said as he checked the loads in his SPAS shotgun. “It was either binocs or a telescopic sight.”
Gato started to speak, “But, Senor Reno, there is no—”
Ben interrupted, “Believe him, Gato. If Harley thinks there’s an ambush ahead, there is. He and Hammer are the best in the world at what they do.”
Gato shrugged, but he clearly still did not believe there was any danger.
“Give us ten minutes, Chief,” Reno said. “Then you can come up the trail.”
Ben nodded and Reno and Hammer split up, each disappearing into the jungle on opposite sides of the road.
“Gato,” Ben said, “have one of your men open the hood of that jeep and act like he’s having trouble with the engine so if anyone is watching, they’ll know why we stopped.”
Gato shook his head as if all this was unnecessary, but he gave the order.
Harley Reno, in spite of his size, moved through the jungle like a big jungle cat, making no sound whatever as he slipped through the dense undergrowth.
Within minutes he could smell the acrid scent of cheap tobacco ahead. He shook his head in disgust. If men under his command dared to smoke while on patrol, they’d have their heads handed to them on a platter.
He silently pushed the leaves of a banana tree aside and saw the trap. There were four men waiting just off the road, hidden in the bushes. Three were armed with AK-47’s, while the fourth manned an old Browning Automatic Rifle on a tripod. Even though the weapon dated from World War II, it would have made short work of the jeeps had they continued down the trail.
Reno glanced at his watch. Five minutes. Hammer should be ready on the other side, he thought as he laid his SPAS on the ground. He pulled his K-Bar assault knife from its scabbard and eased forward.
He grabbed the man in the rear, placing his left hand over his mouth as he pulled his chin up and back, exposing his throat. There was no sound as the razor-sharp blade of the knife sliced through his carotid arteries and trachea. The soldier died without ever knowing what hit him.
Reno slowly laid his body to the ground, his eyes on the other three in front of him. As he moved toward them, one must have sensed something for he turned and looked back over his shoulder. Reno moved quickly, swinging his left fist and crashing it into the soldier’s face, smashing his nose flat and sending teeth and blood spraying into the air as his head snapped back and he fell to the ground.
The other two whirled around, the barrel of the AK-47 swinging toward Reno. He blocked it with his left arm and slashed backhanded with the K-Bar while simultaneously lashing out his right leg in a swinging side-kick. As the K-Bar severed one man’s neck, almost decapitating him, Reno’s size-twelve combat boot took the other soldier in the chin, fracturing and dislocating his jaw. In one continuous motion, Reno whirled and slipped the K-Bar under his ribcage at a forty-five-degree angle upward. The soldier grunted once as the knife point penetrated his heart, stopping it in midbeat. He hung there a moment, impaled on Reno’s fist, his eyes wide and surprised, until Reno jerked the knife out and let him collapse to the ground.
Reno crouched, letting the adrenaline wash out of his system for a few minutes, watching to see if there were any more men hiding in the jungle. When he found none, he leaned his head back and whistled, the sound of a sparrow hawk coming from his lips. It was the signal the scouts of the SUSA used to signify a successful attack.
Moments later, the sound was repeated from across the road, and Reno and Hammer stepped out of the jungle to greet each other.
Hammer glanced at the blood splatters on the front of Reno’s shirt and pants, shaking his head. “Sloppy, podna, awful sloppy,” he growled, a grin on his lips.
Reno shook his head. “I know. I must be gettin’ slow in my old age,” he answered as they walked back up the trail toward Ben and the others.
Gato’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open when he saw the two men walking up the trail, Reno’s clothes covered with fresh blood.
“Dios ...” he muttered.
Ben smiled. “How many were there?”
Reno held up four fingers, Hammer three.
“Weapons?”
“Three AK’s and a BAR,” Reno said.
“Two AK’s and an M-16,” Hammer added.
“Any survivors?”
Hammer shook his head. Reno said, “I left one alive. I figured Gato might want to ask him a few questions.”
Gato looked puzzled. “Questions?”
Reno shrugged. “Sure. Like how they knew where we were gonna be. It might just be you got a mole in your outfit, Gato.”
“A mole?”
Ben explained. “A spy, Gato. Someone who’s reporting your plans to Perro Loco.”
Gato’s face turned dark. “Pedro, Jose,” he said to two soldiers standing nearby. “Go and find out what the bastardo knows.”
