Courage In The Ashes Read online

  He began walking toward the opening. But he was walking uphill, it seemed. It was hard going, and he was forced to stop for a rest.

  There was someone standing in the opening. Ben smiled. His old high school sweetheart. He hadn’t thought of her in years.

  “Hello, Becky,” he said.

  “Ben,” she said. “Turn around. Go back. It isn’t time.”

  “Feels like it to me, Becky. I’m dead, aren’t I?”

  “Not for long, Ben. I’ll see you when it’s your time.”

  She vanished.

  Salina took her place. A small boy stood by her side. Ben knew who that was. His son.

  “This can’t be hell, Salina. God wouldn’t put a child in hell.”

  “You’re looking good, Ben,” she said.

  “Good? I’m dead, baby!”

  “No. You’re just in limbo, Ben. It’s not your time yet. See you, Ben.”

  She faded and Rani took her place. Jordy was with her. “Hi, Ben,” Jordy called.

  “Hi, Jordy.”

  “You go on back now, Ben,” Rani said. “Goon. It’s not your time.” She vanished.

  Jerre stood near the opening.

  “Jerre,” Ben said.

  “It’s good to see you, Ben. But it won’t be for long. You haven’t been called yet. The Force is not ready for you.”

  “The Force?”

  “I can’t explain that. Only death explains life’s mysteries. And you’ve got a lot to do before that time comes. I told you years ago that you had places to go and great things to do. You haven’t done them all yet. Ben? You’ve got a good woman now. She loves you. Love her in return while you both still have each other.”

  “How do you know about her?”

  Jerre smiled.

  “What do you mean: ‘While we both still have each other?’”

  “I’ll see you, Ben.” She faded from sight.

  Ben awakened to intense pain and the murmur of voices.

  “All right,” he recognized Dr. Fieldman’s voice. “It’s beating on its own now. I think he’s clear.”

  “Damn bullet was hiding under his lower gut,” Doctor Lancaster said. “How the hell did it get down there?”

  Ben opened his eyes and looked into the eyes of Linda Parsons. “You big bastard,” she told him. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

  “Yes, dear,” Ben muttered under the mask that covered his mouth and nose.

  Cecil was wheeled into Ben’s room the next morning. The men, close friends for years, grinned at each other. Cecil patted Ben’s hand. Ben was unable to move either arm for the needles sticking into them.

  “Ol’ Hoss,” Ben said, his words softly spoken but with firmness behind them. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

  Cecil shook his head. “No, Ben. I shouldn’t have come on this campaign. Lamar tried to talk me out of it back in California. But . . . hell, you know how it is about combat and men.”

  “I know.”

  “I have good news, ol’ buddy. You’ll be back on your feet in no time. The bullet was lodged near your heart. They found the slight tear. It fell during all the doctors’ fumbling around and bounced off your heart, stopping it momentarily. You’re not that badly hurt.”

  “I was in a tunnel, Cec. While I was dead. I saw and spoke with Salina and my son. With Rani and Jordy. With Jerre. With my old high school sweetheart, Becky. I was dead, Cec. There is life after death.”

  “I’ve never doubted it, Ben.” He gripped Ben’s arm. “I’ve got to go, Ben. The force be with you,” he said with a grin.

  Ben’s eyes turned serious. “Why did you say that?”

  “It’s from that old movie, Ben. You know? What’s the matter?”

  “Jerre told me about the Force. I think she wanted to tell me more but didn’t have the time, or she wasn’t permitted to do so.”

  “Jerre?” Dr. Chase said, entering the room. “What about Jerre?”

  Ben told him what he had experienced in death.

  Lamar nodded his head. “I read a book about the Force, years ago. A horror story.” He looked at Ben. “Hell, I just remembered something: you wrote it!”

  “Yes. I remember it. Darkly, The Thunder. I recall now that I felt so strange while I was doing that manuscript. It was an . . . eerie sensation. Like I was trodding on very shaky ground . . . unexplored ground.”*

  * DARKLY THE THUNDER—ZEBRA BOOKS

  Chase looked at Ben for a moment. “A great many people who died on the operating table and had their hearts started again have spoken of being in a tunnel with a light at the end of it. I don’t know what it represents, other than a sign there is life after death. In any case, we’re all glad to have you back, Ben. You’d better get ready for your flight, Cecil.”

  The men said their goodbyes and Cecil was wheeled out of Ben’s room. “I’m going to give you a few minutes with Ike, Ben. And I mean a few minutes.”

  “All right, Lamar. You’re the boss.”

  Ike walked in, all smiles.

  “Sit down, Ike, We haven’t got much time. I’m pretty tired. Bring me up to date.”

  “I’ve taken over your battalion, Ben. I’ve put Buddy in charge of Second Battalion. Dan has taken command of Third Battalion. Four and Nine Battalions will remain here at Tok. The rest of us will push off and continue the Northstar campaign.”

  “That sounds good to me, Ike. Tell me how you plan the assault.”

  “Second, Third, and Fifth Battalions, under the command of Georgi Striganov, will take Fairbanks. I’ll take One, Six, Seven, and Eight Battalions into Anchorage.”

  “Fine. As soon as Fairbanks and Anchorage are taken, wait for Dan before you start the assault against the Kenai Peninsula. I promised Dan first crack at Lan Villar.”

  “Good enough. When does Chase say you’ll be back on top?”

  “He won’t say. Weeks, I’m sure. Did you find out how those outlaws got past our security?”

  “Yes. They were hiding under the floor of a building. They were a suicide team.”

  “They damn near accomplished their mission. Tell the people back at Base Camp One to start work on body armor that gives more protection at the armpits. That’s a very uncomfortable place to get shot,” Ben said with a smile.

  Chase entered the room. “That’s it, Ike,” the chief of medicine said. “Out.”

  Ike did not argue. He stood up, patted Ben on the arm, and left the room.

  Chase waited while a nurse took temperature, BP, and so forth, marked his chart, and left the room. “You’re out of this fight, Ben. Resign yourself to that fact. For now, get some rest. You won’t have any more visitors this day. I’ve posted guards outside this room to insure that. Night, night, General.”

  The men and women of Second Battalion looked at Buddy from formation. They had fought under Ike’s command since inception, and a new CO, while not unsettling to any of them, was at least a very strange feeling. They had no doubts about Buddy’s ability to lead. He’d proven that he was a very capable leader. If there had been any doubts about that, Ike would not have chosen him.

  But the older Rebels all knew that the shifting around of Sergeant-Major Adamson to the Second Battalion was intended as a stabilizing force for the young Buddy, someone to lean on if questions arose. Nobody argued with a Command Sergeant-Major. Not even Ben Raines.

  Third Battalion stared at Colonel Dan Gray as he faced them a day before jump-off time. Dan Gray was almost as much of a living legend as Ben Raines, Cecil Jefferys, and Ike McGowan.

  “There will be very few changes made,” Dan assured them. “I do not intend to take General Jefferys’s place. That would be impossible. No one could do that. We’ll just continue doing our jobs and get this Northstar affair wrapped up neatly. Stand down until 0500 tomorrow morning.”

  Ben looked at his son. “If Ike didn’t think you could do the job, boy, he wouldn’t have put you in command. So relax.”

  “It’s a strange feeling commanding s
o many people, Father. I don’t know whether I like the feeling of having so many lives riding on my words.”

  “Which is why Striganov is overall commander of the three battalions for this assault. Get used to command, son. I won’t be around forever. This incident shows how vulnerable I am—we all are. It’s all going to fall on your shoulders someday.”

  “Mine and Tina’s,” the young man corrected.

  “That’s true. But Tina and West will be married someday. When they do, I expect them to drop out of combat and settle down. Both of them want a family. They both have said as much. Ask questions, son. If you’re in doubt, ask questions. Don’t be afraid to do so. The Rebels won’t lose any respect for you if you do. They’ll lose respect for you if you don’t.”

  “I’ll do my best, Father.”

  “I know you will. Now get out of here and get back to your command. Good luck, son.”

  Ben watched his son exit the room. Time to start turning part of it over to younger hands and hearts, he thought. Buddy’s got to learn command. He cut his eyes as Chase walked in and looked at his chart.

  “Your recuperative powers never cease to amaze me, Raines,” the old doctor said. “BP has stabilized, temp is fine. You refuse pain medication. But if you think you’re going to be back on your combat boots in a few weeks, you’re wrong. We cut you wide open and spread your ribs and moved your innards around, Ben.”

  “I don’t think that at all, Lamar. I won’t be leading this campaign and I know it.”

  Chase took a chair by the side of the bed. “Don’t push Buddy too hard, Ben. Let him have a taste of high command and see if it’s to his liking. And it might not be.”

  “Yes. I know that. Whatever the outcome, I’m going to leave Dan at battalion level. I may shift Buddy to CO of the Scouts if he’s too uncomfortable in battalion command. We’ll see. Is there any chance I can be wheeled out in the morning to see the troops leave?”

  “No.”

  Ben smiled. “You’re a cranky old fart, you know that?”

  Chase grinned. “Maybe. But as long as you’re in that bed, in this hospital, you take orders from me. Now get some rest.”

  “If you’d take these needles out of my arms, I’d salute you.”

  “Not a chance. That’s supper you’re having right now. Pretend it’s roast beef and gravy. Enjoy.”

  TWELVE

  With a little help from Dr. Chase and a tiny pill, Ben slept right through the departure of the Rebels.

  Far to the south and west, Lan Villar was mapping out plans.

  “We know from radio interceptions that Raines was hurt bad enough to lay him out for this campaign,” Lan told his commanders. “That’s the hardest bastard to kill I ever saw in my life. We know he put his punk kid in charge of one battalion and shifted around some of his commanders. They left this morning to fight two fronts. One in Fairbanks, the other in Anchorage. That means they’re saving us for last.” He shook his head. “I never thought the son of a bitch would come up here. I thought we’d be safe this far north.”

  “We’re never gonna be safe again,” Parr said. The young man was not the same one who had come out of Florida with a large force of men to fight Ben Raines. He had learned the bitter hard truth about Ben Raines and his Rebels and it had torn his confidence to shreds.

  Khamsin, the so-called Hot Wind from Libya, looked at the young man. Like Parr, Khamsin had been humiliated by the Rebels. He had watched his once-mighty army reduced to rabble. He had prayed to Allah for help in fighting Raines. Raines had kicked Allah out of the way and reduced the Hot Wind to a mild breeze.

  Ashley smiled at Parr’s words. It had been a long run for Ashley and his men. Now they were digging in for their final fight against the Rebels. And Ashley had no doubts as to what the outcome would be. He hated Ben Raines, but he was also envious of the man. Ben Raines was like that old-time Texas Ranger who said that you can’t stop a man who knows he’s right and just keeps on coming.

  “Might as well stick a goddamn gun in our mouths and pull the trigger,” Parr said.

  Lan Villar didn’t have anything to say about that. But in his mind he knew the truth in the young man’s words. His only wish was that Dan Gray would not get his hands on him. He knew he would die awfully hard if the Englishman ever took him alive. And if there was a way, Dan Gray would do just that.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Lan,” Ashley said.

  Lan cut his eyes to stare at the man for a moment before replying. “You believe in life after death, Ashley?”

  “Why . . . certainly.”

  “And you think you’ll reside for eternity . . . where? Heaven or hell?”

  Ashley smiled. “I don’t believe in those places, Lan. Do you?”

  The terrorist shook his head. “I don’t know.” He sat down on the corner of an old desk. “Tell me this; if offered to you, would any of you surrender to Ben Raines?”

  None of them raised a hand.

  “Now this is interesting,” Lan said. “You, Parr, you’ve been pissing and moaning about dying ever since Raines tore our butts up down in the States. Why wouldn’t you take surrender terms?”

  The young man looked at the older man. “I ain’t kowtowin’ to Ben Raines and his damn Rebels. You think I’m gonna put my ass on a truck patch and grow vegetables and the like just because Ben Raines says I got to? I don’t like rules and all that crap. I’ll go out fightin’.”

  “Ashley?” Lan asked.

  “I will go to my grave with words of astonishment on my tongue, knowing that Ben Raines has achieved the impossible: a nation, for all intents and purposes, free of crime. For when his Rebels finally storm and breach our last rampart and we die under the sword, he will have achieved that goal.”

  “You should have been a goddamn preacher,” Parr muttered. “Storm the ramparts!”

  “Cretin,” Ashley said.

  Khamsin shook his head and Lan laughed out loud.

  Buddy, Georgi, and Dan hit no resistance until they reached the small town of Dot Lake, about fifty miles from Tok. The firefight lasted less than fifteen minutes before the outlaws were crushed, some of them quite literally so under the treads of main battle tanks. The Rebels surged forward toward Fairbanks. They took no prisoners.

  The leader of the outlaw gang in the small town manged to get off one frantic message before a tank drove right through the wood-frame building and crushed him. The message chilled to the bone those outlaws listening all over Alaska.

  “They’s hundreds and hundreds of ’em!” he screamed into the microphone. “Fuckin’ helicopters in the sky and Rebels ever’ damn where and . . .”

  He died under the treads of a battle tank.

  The tank poked its lethal snout out the other side of the house and kept on clanking, its treads leaving a bloody trail behind it.

  “Take your battalion and spearhead, Buddy,” Striganov told the young man. “We can expect trouble at Delta Junction.”

  When Buddy came to the outskirts of the town, he pulled up short and stared at the grisly scene before him. A human chain had been stretched across the highway. The men and women and kids had been shot and then tied to wires stretched across the highway. The road was slick with their blood.

  A crudely printed sign was hanging from the neck of one child:

  REBELS, ADVANCE ANY FURTHER AND THIS IS WHAT WE’LL DO WITH THE OTHER PRISONERS WE HOLD.

  Buddy knew then that Scouts had seen this and reported back to General Striganov. The Russian was putting him to the test. Buddy met the eyes of his XO.

  “The other prisoners are already dead,” Buddy said. “That is their plan and it’s been confirmed in a lot of towns. Have those bodies checked for booby traps and cut them down. We’ll take the town and then bury those poor people.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “They ain’t buyin’ it,” an outlaw said from the edge of town, watching the action through long lenses and reporting back by radio.

  A gang member dropped to hi
s knees in the filthy house and began praying. “Why didn’t I surrender when I had the chance?” he moaned. “I don’t want them Rebels to put me up agin a wall and shoot me. I’m gonna surrender now. I’m gonna be good from now on. To hell with you people, I’m gonna . . .”

  Die. The leader of this cell of crud and crap shot the man in the back of the head with a .45, splattering his brains all over the floor.

  The slaves of the outlaws lay on the floor of another building, all dead. The outlaw leader heard the still-faint sounds of advancing tanks and a trickle of fear-sweat slid down his back. He clenched his fists in rage and fright. “Goddamn you, Ben Raines!” he screamed, just as the building he was standing in exploded in fire and chunks of concrete blocks and splintered wood. The outlaw was torn apart by the incoming 105mm M456 high-explosive rounds from an M60A3 main battle tank.

  “Oh, God, help me!” A man who had spent the past decade and a half robbing and raping and murdering screamed in agony as tank treads smashed his legs into the roadbed. He tried to crawl away. A Rebel ended his yowling with an M-16 round to his head.

  Half a hundred outlaws began running for their lives, some of them jumping into cars and four-wheel drive trucks and racing out of town. Fear-balls stuck in their throats as they tore up a slight grade, and from the crest they watched as two M24-Hinds rose into the air and unleashed their awesome firepower.

  The two lead vehicles were lifted off their tires and exploded into a thousand pieces of white-hot metal as rockets incinerated those inside.

  Twenty-three millimeter cannon, fired from twin barrels, began hammering the roadway, their rockets exploding fuel tanks and frying those inside the vehicles.

  The Hinds circled and strafed the remaining vehicles until nothing was left but death, fire and ashes. The huge Hinds rose further into the air and hammered back to their refueling depots, their jobs done for this afternoon.