Hatred in the Ashes, page 18
Restrained by one of the brave government agents, Mrs. McComb suffered a heart attack and died in her living room. Mr. McComb, attempting to get to his wife, tried to push his way through the crowd of heavily armed agents and was struck on the head by an agent wielding a collapsible steel baton. Mr. McComb died two days later in a local hospital. The agents continued their ransacking of the house. Another FPPS agent, tired of hearing the injured dog whimper in pain, silenced the little creature by clubbing it to death. The midnight entry and the ensuing events had taken about five minutes.
Harry McComb, Jr. was on a fishing trip with several of his friends and did not learn of his parents' deaths for several days. Immediately after his parents' burial Harry dug up his .308, cleaned and oiled the weapon, and with two of his friends drove into New Dayton and attacked the local FPPS office, killing three agents and a secretary and wounding three other agents before being killed by other agents.
Madame President Claire Osterman and Attorney General Wilhelmina Morrow both called the attack on the New Dayton FPPS office the work of anti-government terrorists, probably the work of members of some militia group by banned government. It was a dreadful, horrible, cowardly thing.
Yes indeedy, it sure was. Tsk, tsk.
No mention was made of the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. McComb, or Chester.
Upon hearing of the attack on the FPPS office, another long-banned, anti-government group in Michigan launched an attack on the FPPS office in New Detroit, killing two agents and wounding three more before being killed by local police.
The USA national press promptly reported that the 207
attacks were, in all probability, ordered by the SUSA. That rumor, of course, came from 'usually highly reliable sources.' In reality, they came straight out of the New White House in Indianapolis. The war was on.
Ben knew nothing of the events occurring hundreds of miles south of him as he waited, pressed up against the wall beside Frank on the porch of the FPPS safe house.
"Who is it?"
"State Police. It's Frank."
"He's OK," another voice said. "I know him. Let him in."
The door opened just a crack, wide enough for the man to see it was a man in a state police uniform. "What do you-"
The man's words were jammed in his throat as Frank put a shoulder into the door just as hard as he could. The FPPS agent was knocked off his feet and to the floor. Frank lunged through the now wide open door, jumped to his left, and hit the floor.
Ben came in right behind Frank, his spitter leveled.
The surprise attack was totally unexpected. One agent grabbed for a shotgun and Ben stitched him across the belly and chest, the line of bloody bullet holes moving up and right with the climb of the machine pistol.
Another FPPS agent lifted an auto-loader, and Ben punched holes in him, knocking him backward against a wall. A third agent, a woman, fumbled at a pistol laying on an end table, and Ben said, "Don't do it, lady. Don't do it."
"Screw you!" the woman said, standing up as her hand closed around the butt of the pistol.
Ben finished the magazine, stitching the woman across the chest. She sat back down on the couch, a very startled expression on her face. Then she died, her eyes wide open and staring directly at Ben, accusingly.
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"Jesus," Frank whispered, getting to his feet. "You don't mess around, do you, General?"
"No," Ben answered shortly as he ejected the empty mag and slipped a full one in place. "Anna!" he called. "Where are you, Baby?"
A thumping sound came from behind a closed door. Ben kicked open the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Anna was on the bed, gagged, her hands tied to the headboard. She was alive.
Federal troops tried a frontal assault against Rebel positions, attempting to cross the West Virginia line over into Virginia. They didn't make it, and it turned into a slaughter for the Federals. The Virginians hammered them with intensive long range artillery and drove them back. It was very nearly a rout.
The Federals tried the same tactic along the Southern Missouri/Northern Arkansas border. The Arkansas Home Guard, backed up by several battalions of regular Rebel troops and attack helicopters, put the Federals into a full retreat.
The Federals tried another attack across the Oklahoma line into Texas.
It was a bloody failure as the Texas Home Guard, highly outnumbered, held rock-solid firm and beat the Federals back.
The commanding general of the Federals ordered a pullback of all troops.
He realized only then that the SUSA was going to be a very tough nut to crack ... if they could crack it at all. Madame President Osterman had been very wrong when she proclaimed that her troops would be victorious over the SUSA in only a few days.
"This war is going to be a bloody son of a bitch," General Duran told several of his ranking officers. "If we contain the Rebels inside their own territory and keep them out of the USA, it will be nothing short of a miracle."
"We've lost a lot of people, General," General Vandermeer said. "And didn't gain an inch of ground."
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Studying maps on the table in front of him, Duran nodded his reply. He finally thumped the map and straightened up, facing his senior officers.
"Problem is, the Rebels don't have a weak point. We're facing twenty-five or thirty million people, all heavily armed and well trained. The Rebels have stockpiles of supplies all over the damn place.
Our intel says they have supplies enough to last for years. And intel says they will fight right down to the last person. Surrender is not a word in their vocabulary ... unless it's applied to the opposing force."
"This fight will not be limited to the SUSA, gentlemen," a man dressed in civilian clothes said.
General Duran slowly nodded his head in agreement. "I know, James. But have you been successful in convincing Madame President of that?"
"No. Unfortunately she has always considered Ben Raines a lightweight."
"Bad mistake," General Vandermeer said.
"A tragic mistake," James said. "But until or unless she sees the error in her thinking, we're looking at one hell of a very large problem. The president wants results, and she wants them quickly."
"Well, she's not going to get them," General Duran said. "And you'd better convince her that we're all in this thing for the long haul. I'm talking about years."
"Our economy won't hold up for such a long struggle."
"The Rebels' will," General Masters pointed out. All eyes turned to him.
"Look, gentlemen, let's face some hard facts. We've all read the stats, but we all seem to have ignored or disallowed them. President Osterman certainly has. One-the SUSA has the largest navy in the world, as far as we know. Two-they have the best-equipped army in the world. That's a fact. They have the best-equipped air force in the world, and that is a fact. Their home guard alone is made up of several million men and women, all highly trained and well-equipped and motivated. They have the supplies to fight a protracted war, and they have supply lines and the means to almost instantly resupply
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their people in the field. Their economy is the best, their currency the strongest in the world. I'm only hitting the high points here, gentlemen. Now here is the highest point-the Rebels have nuclear and germ capability, and General Raines has warned us that he will use them.
And I believe him. Now, as military commanders we had damn well better face these facts and come up with an alternate plan to fight the Rebels.
Because facing them head-to-head is going to accomplish only one thing we are going to get our asses kicked all over the goddamn place. And that, gentlemen, is a fact."
"Madame President had better not ever hear you say those words, General Masters," Jerry said.
"Madame President doesn't know jack-shit about warfare," Masters replied. "She's a goddamn politician and always has been, when she wasn't fucking her way to where she is."
"That's enough, General!" Jerry commanded. "You're stepping over the line."
Masters fixed the White House liaison man with a cold stare. "I don't take orders from you, Jerry. I'm in this fight because I don't believe in a divided nation, not because I'm a socialist. Claire Osterman has sucked dicks from here to California to help her get where she is. And you can take those words back to Sugar Babe if you like ... and you probably will."
Jerry did. One hour after Madame President was told of General Masters'
comments, Masters was relieved of command and placed under arrest.
Ben cut the ropes that bound Anna's wrists to the bedpost, and she sat up and jerked the tape from her mouth, then threw her arms around Ben's neck.
"Are you all right, Baby?" Ben asked.
"I am now."
"Did they hurt you? Abuse you in any way?"
She pulled back and refused to meet his eyes. That told 211
him all he needed to know. Ben silently cursed. Rape of a female prisoner by a Rebel could mean long prison terms and on occasion, a firing squad.
"Guess what, General?" Frank said from the doorway. "I had a change of heart. Don't move."
Ben sighed and cut his eyes. Frank was holding a shotgun, the muzzle pointed at him. "That million bucks got to you, huh, Frank?"
"Something like that, General. The boys here all took turns humping your kid, hey? Well, I could have told you they would. She looks like she'd be a prime piece."
Anna was slowly lifting Frank's 9mm from behind Ben's waistband. When it was free, she jacked the hammer back with her thumb.
"Too bad you'll never get any of it, you socialistic son of a bitch,"
Anna told Frank.
Frank flushed and took a couple of steps into the room, which was exactly what Anna wanted him to do. The small bedroom would help muffle a gunshot.
"Don't be too sure of that, Blondie," Frank said, taking a couple more steps closer to the bed. "I bet it's pretty good stuff. So, after I take care of the general here, I just might take me a taste."
"When pigs fly, you creep! I'll die first, goddamn you!" Anna then proceeded to cuss Frank. She did a good job of tracing his ancestry back through the centuries, Ben thought.
Frank frowned for a moment, then grinned. ?Hey, Baby, did Margie do her thing with you too?" he said with a laugh. "I hear she likes young blondes."
"She didn't like this one worth a damn," Anna said, then shot him twice.
Once in the belly, once in the chest. Frank stumbled back and tried to raise the shotgun, but could not. He fell back against the wall and cursed, his voice weak. Blood began leaking out of his mouth. "You bitch!" he managed to say before he began coughing, blood spraying out of his mouth. "You miserable little Rebel bitch!"
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"Rebel all the way and forever, you son of a bitch!" Anna told him.
Frank closed his eyes and died.
"Let's get the hell going, Anna," Ben told her.
"Let me get my shoes on, Daddy. Take half a minute. As soon as I can find the damn things."
"I'll be gathering up the weapons. And ..." An idea hit him. Maybe it would work. What the hell did they have to lose? He'd give it a try.
"What?" Anna asked, looking up from her searching under the bed.
"Get your shoes on, Kid. Move it"
Ben gathered up the weapons and took the ID from the dead woman and from the men. He flipped open the leather holder. No picture on any of the ID's Might work. It was sure worth a try.
Ben looked out the front door. There were few houses occupied in the long block on the edge of town, and Ben guessed the two shots Anna had pumped out had not been heard.
He pulled the car up closer to the house and stowed the weapons in the backseat just as Anna came walking out, wiping a bloody knife on a piece of cloth. Her knife, Ben realized.
"You have trouble in there, Baby?"
"One of the men was still alive," she said. "He had my knife. He is no longer alive. He was going to do some awfully disgusting things to me.
The woman wanted to watch."
Ben opened his mouth and Anna waved him silent. "There's nothing to say.
It's over. Let's go."
Ben headed west out of town. He felt that south would be crawling with police and FPPS agents. He would cut south when he got into middle Missouri ... if they made it that far. Missouri was split, just as it had been during the first civil war. Those in Southern Missouri sympathized with the SUSA, and they would give Federal troops about as much help as they would a rattlesnake.
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Anna would tell him more about what happened with the FPPS agents when she was ready to speak of it... or she might never tell him. Probably the latter.
As they traveled through the night, Ben told Anna all that had happened with him since he'd left the SUSA. Then she began to talk about her capture, and a bit about the questions the federal agents had asked her.
"They want you bad, Daddy Ben. They believe that with you dead the SUSA will collapse."
?They're fools. The Tri-States philosophy will live as long as there is one person who believes in it."
"That's what I tried to tell them. They laughed at me. Among other things," she added. She turned her head and looked out the window for a moment.
'' Did they talk at all about what type of security Osterman and Millard have around them?"
"No. Not a word. But all the agents who were guarding me are-were-dedicated believers in this New Democracy thing. Whatever the hell that is."
"It's what the United States fought against worldwide for years, baby.
From about nineteen forty-five until the collapse of communism about forty years later. Then, while nearly every country in the world that had fully embraced or at least flirted with some form of that type of government was running away from it, the liberals in this country were rushing to embrace it."
"That doesn't make any sense, Daddy."
"Most of us who believe in the Tri-States form of government don't think that liberals make any sense. Or very little. That's why I've believed for years that the best thing for America was the splitting up of the country into four or five smaller nations within a nation, all answerable to some small degree to the larger nation, all using the same currency, but with guaranteed states' rights that the others couldn't challenge."
"We tried to do that, didn't we?"
"Yes. We did. And under President Altman it was working. But the left wing is never satisfied. They've got to have
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it all their way, or no way. Now we're in a war that will probably tear this nation apart."
"Irreparable?"
"It might be that bad. But the Tri-States people, those who are left, will rebuild ... again, and again, until we're finally left alone."
"That will be accomplished in our lifetime?"
"Maybe in your lifetime, Baby. Not in mine."
"But it was your dream."
"Yes," Ben said softly. "It was mine."
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Chapter Twenty
Ben drove through the night and managed to cover all of two hundred miles. But at least it got him out of Indiana and into Illinois. He turned the wheel over to Anna and caught a few hours sleep. He awakened with a stiff neck.
"Where the hell are we, Kid?"
"I cut south a few miles back. Where you told me to. We should be able to find some SUSA people in about an hour. Maybe get something to eat and some sleep."
"We're not stopping. Any known SUSA sympathizers will be under hard surveillance. Our stopping would be dangerous all the way around. How's the gas situation?"
"We're going to need some before long."
"Pull in the next station. We'll fill up and get a cold drink and a sandwich ... if they have them."
"I could eat almost anything."
"I have some emergency rations in the trunk," Ben said with a smile.
"I said almost anything."
"These are the very latest creation from our lab boys and girls. I packed them before I came to find you."
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"Then they can eat them. We'll save them for emergencies. Like when we're about to die."
Anna's sense of humor was rapidly returning, and Ben was glad to hear it. He smiled at her and she cut her eyes and winked at him.
"There's a service station just up ahead," Anna said. "Looks as if it's open. You want to check it out first?"
"No. Let's get some gas and food and keep on going. We're only a couple of hours from the border. That's when it's going to get really interesting."
"How are we going to get across into SUSA territory?"
"I don't have the foggiest idea."
Anna pulled off the highway into the service station and up to the pumps. Ben began filling the tank while Anna went to the ladies room. He noticed a car pull in from the north and park off to one side of the main building. A few seconds later another car rolled in from the south and parked on the opposite side of the building. Ben noted there were four or five in each car. He was just topping off the tank when Anna strolled out, carrying a paper bag filled with food and soft drinks. She walked up to him.
"What's the matter, Daddy Ben? You've got a funny expression on your face."
"I think we've been made. Don't look around. Two cars. One at each end of the building. Four or five people in each car. Get ready to hand me my spitter from the front seat."
Anna stowed the groceries and stood with both passenger side doors open.
All the weapons in the backseat had been carefully checked and loaded.
Ben had two pistols tucked behind his waistband, his jacket covering them. Anna had a 9mm in her waistband.
"Two of the men walking this way," Anna whispered. "They're wearing suits."
"FPPS people. Get ready."
"Oh, I'm ready for some payback. You can bet on that."
"You there!" one of the men called, in a tone of voice 217
that irritated Ben. "Get up against the car and keep your hands in sight. You're under arrest."
"Screw you!" Ben told him.
