Terror in the Ashes Read online

  “All personnel stay at their posts,” Ben ordered. “But I think it’s over in this city We’ll mop up commencing in the morning.”

  The sight was macabre and the odor was disgusting. Hundreds and hundreds of stiffening bodies sprawled in the streets.

  “Dr. Chase is hollering about a health hazard,” Corrie said to Ben.

  “Tell that old fart we’re moving as fast as we can,” Ben replied. “We’ve only got so much equipment. God damn it, I can’t work miracles.”

  Corrie’s reply to Dr. Chase was put much more diplomatically.

  The bodies of the dead creepies were being scooped up, loaded into the beds of trucks, and hauled off to be buried in a mass grave outside the city. The weapons of the dead were being collected, taken down, cleaned, and then given to the Free Irish.

  The morning had turned very warm and Ben had ordered everybody working with the bodies to get into gas masks; the stench of the dead was very nearly overpowering. He stood on the sidewalk outside his CP. Reluctantly, for he hated the damn things, Ben slipped on his gas mask and told Corrie to issue the orders that everyone do the same.

  “Corrie, order water trucks and generators up and start hosing down the streets. We’ve got to wash this slop off. When that’s done, we’ll hook up hoses to the exhaust systems of our vehicles and start pumping carbon monoxide into the tunnels to drive out the remaining creepies.”

  Over the long years of fighting the creepies, the Rebels had learned that was the easiest way to force the Believers out of their holes.

  “I want all battalions of the Free Irish to start house-to-house, building-to-building searches,” Ben said. “Pat and Bobby have stated that it’s their country, they should bear the brunt of finishing the fight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get me a damage report on all landmarks and historical sites, too.”

  “I got it just a few minutes ago from Communications,” Beth said. She lifted a clipboard. “It’s pretty bad. Of the six-thousand-plus paintings in the National Gallery of Ireland, less than half can be restored, so the experts say. Dublin Castle was trashed. Marsh’s Library was vandalized and some of it burned. It’s going to take a lot of work to restore St. Pat’s Cathedral. None of the landmarks and historical sites went untouched.”

  “It could have been worse, I suppose,” Ben said.

  “Thermopolis reports finding a band of war protesters.”

  “He would,” Ben muttered.

  “He’s doing his best to keep them away from you.”

  “He’d better.”

  “They’re demanding a meeting with you, and they’re demanding that you take your army and leave Ireland immediately.”

  “Make a note of that, Beth. We’ll get to it in about a month and a half.”

  “They’re going to have a concert tomorrow night. They’ll circulate a petition declaring that war is unhealthy.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  “They’re going to go among the troops to ask that as many as possible desert.”

  Ben smiled.

  “You find that funny, Ben?” Linda asked.

  “It’ll give Dr. Chase’s people something to do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Stitching up busted heads and repairing the broken teeth that will surely happen when Rebel gun butts impact with heads and mouths.”

  “And you’ll let that happen?”

  “I surely will.”

  “You won’t stop it?”

  “I surely will not.”

  “It’s their country, Ben.”

  “Then they can fight for it as the Free Irish have done and will continue to do.”

  “You are stifling legal dissent, Ben.”

  “No, I’m not. If they want to stand in the street and wave placards and sing songs and make speeches, that’s fine with me. But the first time they get up in a Rebel’s face and call them a baby-killer or some such shit as that, they’re going to get hurt.”

  She stared at him for a moment. “I’ll never understand or like this side of you, Ben.”

  “You want to stay here, don’t you, Linda?”

  The question rocked her back for a moment. “Why... I don’t know, Ben. I have thought about it.”

  “Come on,” he said, taking her arm. “Let’s get to a car, roll up the windows, and turn on the air conditioning. We can get out of these damn masks and talk.”

  “Sure, Ben,” she said with a smile. “I know you pretty well. You’re going to try to slip away from your bodyguards. It’ll never work.”

  “I bet I give it the old college try.”

  But before he had even left the campus, two Dusters were blocking his way. He looked behind him. Cooper was there with his team, and his platoon was behind the wagon, and behind the wagon were two MBTs.

  “You just tell us where you want to go, Eagle,” the Duster commander said, “and we’ll damn sure get you there and back.”

  “Away from this smell.”

  “That’s easy. Follow us, Eagle.”

  The Dusters led them back through the Liberties and to the edge of the city where supplies were being stored. This was a very secure area, and Ben drove until he found a good spot to park. He and Linda got out. The smell was there, but tolerable without the masks.

  “Linda,” Ben said. “We’ve had some good times together. I don’t love you and you don’t love me. But we do like each other. And that’s probably more important in a relationship. You came along just in time for me. You got me over some very bad spots. And maybe I was just as good for you. I like to think so. You’ve turned into a good soldier, and I was proud to have you as part of my team. But this outfit is not for you, Linda. You’ve been kidding yourself for some months now. I’ve seen it, and so have the others. Chase and I have spoken of it.”

  “No hard feelings, Ben?”

  “Oh, no, Linda. None. My God, I’ve got wars to fight and battles to win. You’ve got to set out to save the world from itself.”

  “Now you’re being sarcastic.”

  “Just a little bit. We’re opposites, Linda. We attract, but it’s a dangerous attraction. And I think, if you want to stay here in Ireland, the people would love to have you. They are in desperate need of qualified medical personnel. And Dublin is going to be a long time rebuilding.”

  “Will you ever settle down, Ben?”

  “When I’m too old for the field.”

  “Ben, that’ll be years!”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ll miss you, Ben.”

  “And I shall miss you. But at least we’re parting friends. If this had gone on for months more, we would have been at each other’s throats and it would have been a bad ending to a good relationship.”

  “How, ah, do we end it?”

  “You gather up your gear and report to Dr. Chase. He’s swamped with work and will welcome you. I’ll make myself scarce until about noon so there won’t be any bumping into each other, creating awkward moments.”

  She touched his arm. “Ben . . . take care of yourself.”

  “You, too, Linda.” He waved at a Rebel. “Drive the lady back to my CP, please.”

  Ben walked back to his wagon and got in the front seat. “Corrie, tell those nursemaid tanks we are going to inspect the city. Drive, Coop.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “I guess I’m a lousy matchmaker, Raines,” Chase said, sitting in Ben’s office, his feet up on the desk. Both of them were having a taste of Irish whiskey. “Tell you the truth, though, you do look relieved.”

  “I am. It was going sour.”

  “Was it Jerre?” Chase asked softly.

  “Oh, no, Lamar. Jerre is dead. She will always be a part of me, but I’ve buried her. No ... it just wasn’t working. Linda is a fine lady, and somewhere out there,” he waved his hand, “is a fine man waiting for her. It just isn’t me.”

  Chase drained his glass and stood up. “Well, back to work for me, Ben. See you.” He stalk
ed out of the office, looking for some young Rebel to frighten half out of his wits by roaring at him, and then walk away, chuckling.

  Ben looked out the window. The creepie bodies were gone, the streets hosed down. Ben had elected not to fill the tunnels with exhaust fumes. Sensors had shown there were so few Believers left they weren’t worth fooling with. O’Shea had told Ben the Free Irish would take care of any left. The scent of death was still in the air, but it was fading. A good rain would clear it away forever, and that was what the meteorological people were predicting for the next couple of days.

  Smoot came to him and rubbed against his leg. Ben played with the Husky for a few minutes until Ike came in and Smoot was then all over Ike.

  “What’s up, Ike?”

  “The invasion of England.”

  “I certainly hope you have a plan, ’cause I damn sure haven’t got one.”

  Ike looked at him and grinned. “One that you’re happy with, you mean.”

  “Yeah. Where’s the rest of the crew?”

  “They’re on the way.” The news of Ben and Linda splitting the sheets had spread throughout the Rebel contingent like an unchecked brushfire. But Ike knew if Ben wanted to talk about it, he would bring it up.

  “Any large-scale invasion is out,” Ben said, toying with a pencil. “Small teams are going to have to cross, and that’s going to have to be coordinated with airdrops. We have to assume that the punks and creeps in England have eyes and ears over here. So just as soon as we start refresher jumping, that news will be radioed to England. Not much is going to come as a surprise to the crap over there.”

  The rest of Ben’s battalion commanders walked in and poured coffee and took chairs. Tina gave her father a strange look but said nothing about the split-up . . . for now.

  Ben stood up and moved to a large map of England thumbtacked to the wall . . . compliments of the National Geographic Society. “The way I see it is like this: we’ve got to go in where they least expect us. Trying to put myself inside the enemy’s heads, I’d think of attacking the larger ports and seizing them so we can off-load equipment from transport ships. So that’s exactly what we’re not going to do.” He turned to face the group.

  “We’re going ashore in small groups. We take the countryside first, saving the larger towns and cities for last. Our first order of business is to secure a port. If we fail to do that, we’re dead. But it’s got to be a port that those defending the island feel would be too small or unimportant for us to take right off the bat. Or,” Ben said with a smile, “one that is so large they would never dream we’d attempt to take first. We’ll talk about that.

  “Once the teams are in place, we’ll start checking out drop zones for the jumpers. We’re going to have to work closely with British Resistance Fighters on this. And we’re also going to have to assume that many of their units have been compromised. Dan is taking a team and going in early to work with the BRF, ferreting out any who are suspect.

  “When we decide on a port, the operation has to be timed letter perfect. We’ve got to have teams striking from inside the town and paratroopers coming in fast to beef them up. Ships are going to have to be standing by, but well off the coast, so as not to give away our landing site. Engineers are going to have to be ready to go in and repair the equipment on the docks that we need to off-load. All in all, it’s either going to be a great success or a massive fuck-up that’s going to get a lot of people killed for nothing. And it looks like it’s going to be early fall before we can jump off.”

  “Don’t forget securing a place for my medical teams, Ben,” Chase spoke up.

  “You wouldn’t let me forget that, Lamar,” Ben told him. “All right, people, loosen your battle harnesses and freshen your coffee. Tablets and pencils are on the conference table in the next room, and every map we could come up with is available. So come on, we’ve got a long skull session ahead of us.”

  Seventeen

  The session wore on into evening, with dozens of plans tossed out and rejected. The air became thick with cigarette and pipe smoke. Chase finally gave all the smokers a good cussing and left the room, saying he’d be goddamned if he was going to die from secondhand smoke.

  “There was a naval base at Plymouth,” Ike said, his voice a little hoarse from all the talking and sometimes shouting. “Let’s look at that a little closer. What do we have on it?”

  “BRF says it’s still in good shape, although much of the equipment hasn’t been used in a long time,” Beth said. “It had a population of about 225,000 before the Great War. The airport is still in good shape, although inhabited by creepies.”

  “Well, the other sites we’ve talked about are just too damn small,” Ben said. “We’re going to have to land a lot of equipment and do it fast.” Ben stood up and looked at the large wall map for a moment. “What’s this country north of the city like, Dan? It doesn’t appear to be heavily populated.”

  “It isn’t. That’s the Dartmoor. A lot of good DZs there, General. And some good country to hide in.”

  “Splendid.”

  Dan rose and walked to the map. “Right here,” he pointed a blunt finger, “is, or was, a national park. There is also one here, and here. Here is Savernake Forest, about two thousand acres or so of trees, huge oaks and beeches. There is quite a contingent of BRF operating not just out of these forests, but in timbered areas all over the country. And there are more forests in England than Yanks have been led to believe,” he added with a smile.

  “Good, Dan. Good.” He looked at Pat O’Shea and Bobby Flynn. “Plymouth all right with you gentlemen?”

  “Suits me, General,” Bobby said with a smile. “Just as long as I don’t have to do no jumpin’ outta no damn airplane. I’ll swim across if I have to, but I’ll not fling my body outta no plane — unless it’s parked on the runway. Patty, here, he was in the paratroopers. 1 always said he didn’t have the sense God give a goose.”

  “You want to jump in, Pat?” Ben asked.

  “Sure! But I’ll have to brush up some. It’s been many a year since I swung under the silk.”

  “The man is a fool just as sure as I’m a-sittin’ here,” Bobby said. “Absolutely daft, he is.”

  Rebels began prowling the now slowly being restored libraries in the city, looking for any book that could tell them something about England. Ben issued orders that any maps found be brought to his CP, inspected, and then copied many times. Every commander, from batt coms on down to squad leaders, had to have maps of every area of England, Scotland, and Wales.

  Those who were jumping in began refresher courses, including Pat and about a hundred of his Free Irish fighters. Ben was not jumping in, much to the relief of all concerned — which was everybody.

  He had not seen Linda but heard that she was very happy with her work — helping tend to the needs of the hundreds of malnourished and abused Irish children at a clinic. Ben silently wished her well and tucked her away in the gallery of beautiful women he had known down through the years.

  Then he settled down to pore over a mountain of work on his desk. And Ben despised paperwork nearly as much as he despised anything in the world.

  Ben began working out the logistics of this operation. And its success hinged on establishing a solid hold in Plymouth. Ben felt he could not land paratroopers too many hours before the invasion. Even if the enemy did not see the jumpers, they would certainly hear the planes, and that would be a giveaway.

  He issued orders to search Ireland and find any plane that would fly. Just before the invasion, he would send planes all over England, from north to south, to confuse the enemy as to the Rebels’ real objective.

  The ships carrying the Rebels in would leave many days before the invasion. They would sail out of Galway, then turn south and, once clear of the southernmost tip of the island, cut east through the Atlantic; then, once past the Isles of Scilly, turn toward Plymouth. While that was taking place, dozens of smaller boats would be crossing the Irish Sea and discharging teams of R
ebels all up and down the west side of the English coast.

  When the plans were as nearly perfect as Ben could make them, he dropped the news on his team. “We’re going in first wave with the smaller craft,” he told them matter-of-factly. “I’ll be coordinating the invasion from the shore.”

  About sixty seconds later, his field phone started ringing. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Ike yelled in his ear. “We’ll secure the port and then you can go in.”

  “Nope,” Ben told him. “I go in first. And that’s that.”

  “I forbid it!” the Russian, Striganov, growled. “I absolutely forbid it.”

  “Don’t be a fool, General!” Dan told him.

  “No!” Rebet said.

  “Unthinkable!” Danjou snapped.

  “Irresponsible!” the mercenary, West, said.

  Thermopolis and Tina said nothing. Thermopolis had long given up trying to tell Ben anything, and Tina knew better than to argue with her father. Buddy just put a finer edge on his already razor-sharp knife and kept his mouth closed.

  “Kick-ass time!” Jersey said.

  The XO of Dan’s Three Battalion, who would be leading the Third, since Dan would already be in England commanding the Special Ops teams, said nothing.

  “That’s the way it’s going to be, people,” Ben put an end to the arguments. “So just settle down and get your people ready to go.”

  Since Thermopolis would be in command of the ships, and Dan’s XO would be in charge of the Third, they would be the last battalions into England.

  “God damn it, Raines!” Dr. Chase roared at him. “Who the hell do you think you are, John Wayne?”

  “Be quiet,” Ben told him. “I can’t think with all your bellering and snorting.”

  “Who’s John Wayne?” a young Rebel asked.

  The jump training was over, the supplies had been brought in and shifted from ship to ship, everyone had their orders and knew what to do. Dan and his special ops teams had left for England. Jumpoff time for the invasion was only a few days away.