Trapped in the Ashes Page 4

  But maybe if the woman could be taken . . . ?

  Maybe.

  FIVE

  Ben sat behind his desk, his boots propped up, deep in thought. If he were in the Libyan’s shoes, what would he do?

  Find a weak spot and strike, of course.

  And what was Ben’s weak spot? He couldn’t think of any.

  Then he thought of one.

  He yelled for Beth. She stuck her head in the doorway. “Sir?”

  “Get Jerre in here right now, Beth.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You want me to do what?” Jerre asked, her eyes cold.

  “From now on, you’re my personal aide. You do not leave my side for any reason. Is that clear?”

  “I don’t want to be your personal aide, and I am not going to be your personal aide!” she fired back at him.

  “Miss Hunter,” Ben said, leaning back in his chair, “I have reached the point in my life where I don’t give a good goddamn what you want.” That was a lie, but Ben hoped he could pull it off and convince her it was truth. He watched her eyes turn even more icy. “I am giving you a direct order and you will, by God, obey it. Is that understood, Miss Hunter?”

  She straightened up and glared at him. “Yes, sir, General Raines!”

  “Thank you. That will be all. Have someone go to your quarters and bring your gear over here. You . . .”

  “I am perfectly capable of packing my own gear, General.”

  “Do not interrupt me when I am speaking, Miss Hunter!” Ben yelled at her. “I said: Have someone pack your gear and bring it over here. You will sleep in that room!” He pointed to the anteroom. “Dismissed!”

  She whirled around and marched from the office, pausing at the door. “Does the general wish the office door closed?”

  “No, the general does not.”

  “I’ll get your gear,” Jersey told her. “Cooper will get you a cot. Welcome aboard—again.”

  “Thanks.” Jerre watched Jersey and Cooper leave the room, calmed down a bit and looked at Beth. “Question is: Why is he doing it?”

  Beth shrugged. “I don’t question the general. He’s got his reasons.”

  Ben rose from his desk and closed the door to his office. Jerre glared at the door and mouthed a very ugly word.

  “He was a strange and mysterious man when I first met him,” Jerre said. “Now he’s changed to just plain damn weird!”

  “Don’t bet on that,” Beth told her. “There’s a reason for everything he does. Whether or not you’ll ever know the reason is up for grabs.”

  Jerre sat down in a chair, close to Beth. “When this is over, Beth, what do you intend to do?”

  The question surprised her. She was thoughtful for a moment. “Probably go back to Illinois, to Lev. I’ve spoken with the general about it.” She rose, poured them coffee, and returned to her chair.

  “Do you love him?”

  “I’m comfortable with him. I like him, and he loves me.”

  “Is that enough?”

  “It is for me. There is an old proverb that reads: A man should always marry a woman he loves, and a woman should always marry a man she likes. If you think about it, it makes a lot of sense.”

  “Is that a Jewish proverb?”

  The dark-haired beauty laughed. “No, I think it’s Arabic!”

  The Night People did not launched a full-scale attack that night. They chose instead to limit themselves to a hit-and-run operation, citywide, and that tied up the Rebels and kept them to high alert until dawn, with neither side taking many casualties.

  At dawn, the creepies withdrew and the Rebels rested. Ben and the others began their search for treasure.

  And that was not as easy as it sounded, for none knew what awaited them inside the buildings of the city, or what might be booby-trapped. It was slow going.

  Jerre accompanied Ben, but neither of them spoke unless it was absolutely necessary, and that did not make for a very pleasant atmosphere for the other Rebels.

  It soon became apparent that the Rebels had exacted a much heavier toll on the Night People than any of them imagined. And it also brought to bear just how desperate the Night People had become: for they had turned to eating their own.

  By midmorning, very few of the Rebels had encountered any creepies, and the germ of worry in Ben’s mind had changed into a full-grown blister. He radioed his commanders.

  “What’s up, people? I’m open for suggestions.”

  “The only thing I can figure out, Ben,” Ike said, “is that they’re trying to bug out. If they can get clear of Manhattan, Khamsin will pound us to pieces with his artillery.”

  “They can’t get out,” Ben said flatly. “We’ve got all avenues of escape blocked. So to my mind, that means they’ve shifted locations, en masse, and Khamsin will start hammering us one location at a time. If that’s the case, it will have to be done on a systematic basis. Either south to north or north to south; it wouldn’t work any other way. He can’t work from the middle to split us up; we’re already split up and he knows it.”

  Ben studied a map of Manhattan. “Have all personnel in the south end of the island move up half a dozen blocks. All troops in the north move down a half dozen blocks. Move it, right now!”

  Khamsin started his barrage at noon, throwing everything he had at the island. And Ben had pegged it right on the money.

  The north and south ends of the island began to resemble Berlin at the close of the Second World War as heavy artillery knocked huge holes into buildings and started dozens of small fires.

  But the Rebels sustained no serious injuries from the shelling. It’s extremely difficult to hit something that isn’t there.

  “Message from the Night People, sir,” an aide spoke to Khamsin. “They said Raines shifted his troops around. Our shelling is destroying the city but killing no Rebels.”

  Khamsin lost his temper and began pounding his fists on a table, screaming and cursing Ben Raines. “The man is a devil!” he raged. “What manner of beast is this person? How can he read my mind?”

  “Sir,” a field commander said. “If I may be permitted to speak my mind?”

  “Speak!”

  “Would it not be in our best interest to unite with General Raines against the common enemy?”

  “Never!” Khamsin screamed. He ordered the field commander shot, then as he calmed, rescinded the death sentence. He ordered the shelling stopped and gave the suggestion some thought. “Perhaps,” he mused aloud, “that would be in our best interest. The Night People are surely a scourge upon the earth.”

  “And,” it was offered, “it would be a much easier way to get on the island. Once there, we could easily crush the Flesh-Eaters and then kill Ben Raines. Without Ben Raines, his army would fall apart.”

  “Has Monte left yet?”

  “Of course not. He says he is going this night.”

  “Cowardly fool! Tell him to stand down until I compose a message to Ben Raines and it is delivered. Now leave me alone. I want this message to be perfectly correct.”

  “Send teams in to assess the damage,” Ben ordered. “And continue the searching for art and literature and music.”

  West had driven up to Ben’s temporary position during the shelling. “Brilliant move, General. You have my compliments and my respect.”

  “Thank you, West. But it was just a guess on my part, that’s all.”

  “Accurate guessing has won more battles than brilliant mental maneuvering.” He smiled. “But I think you are more than aware of that.”

  “How’d the treasure-hunting go this morning?”

  “Very well, I would say. I found a trove of priceless art. Renoir, Monet, Pissarro, Kiprensky, a few by Bower. I found a great deal of sculpture, most of them small bronzes from the Italian Renaissance period. Quite lovely.” He glanced at Ben. “Did you get a chance to visit your old publishing house?”

  “How did you know I was going to do that?”

  “Just a guess. I would, i
f I had been a popular writer.” Dan walked up.

  “Dan, while you and the rest of the people are out and about gathering up this and that, I would like for you to gather up something else, as well.”

  “Certainly, General. And what would that be?”

  Ben smiled. “Blow the bank vaults and gather up all the gold in this city.”

  Jerre sat back in Ben’s temporary CP, just off Mitchell Square, and looked at the man. She still could not figure out why he had been so adamant about her becoming his personal aide. Surely he knew by now that she did not love him.

  Or did she?

  That was a question she had asked herself many times over the years. And she always came up with the same answer: Yes, she did. Sort of. In a way. But she respected him more than loved him. She guessed she did, anyway. Sometimes she was sure that she hated him. But those feelings had always passed as quickly as they’d come.

  Was Ben trying to work his way into her heart?

  No. She knew him better than that. Even over the long years, he had never once told her that he loved her. But she knew he did. He’d never even told her that he liked her.

  And maybe he didn’t. It was certainly possible to love someone and not like them.

  Ben turned and looked at her, just as quickly averting his eyes.

  She shook her head. Strange man, Ben Raines.

  Ben walked out into Mitchell Square just as a runner approached him. “We’re picking up signal flashers from New Jersey, General. General Ike read them. Khamsin wants to meet with you.”

  Ben did not change expression. “Does he now? That’s interesting. I wonder why he didn’t radio. It would have been much easier.” He smiled at the runner. “Unless, of course, he’s got a double-cross planned against the creepies.”

  “You trust him, General?”

  “Hell, no!”

  After the runner had left, Ben bumped Ike on scramble. “What do you make of it, Ike?”

  “No good, that’s for sure.”

  “You got your man standing by on ship?”

  “Ten-four.”

  “Tell him I’ll meet with him. But he’s got to come to me.”

  “I will relay the message.”

  In less than five minutes, Ike was back on the horn. “Khamsin says you’ll have to come to him, Ben.”

  “Tell him to shove it up his ass.”

  Ike laughed. “With pleasure!”

  Ike was back with the message in less time than before. “He says that’s all right with him. Where do you want to meet?”

  “Tell him I’ll get back with him at dawn tomorrow. Then you get up here. Let’s meet.”

  “He’s too eager, people,” Ben told the gathering. “I got a hunch he wants to talk peace while his army moves all over us. Or, perhaps he realizes that the Night People have to be destroyed before they can gain a firmer hold. Then when that’s done he’ll turn on us.”

  “I’d opt for the latter,” Cecil said.

  The others agreed.

  “So,” Ben said with a smile, “I think I’ll just tell the Hot Wind to come on over. We can sure use his help in this war.”

  Nearly all of them were looking at Ben as if they were sure he had lost his mind. All except General Striganov. He was sitting with a faint smile on his face.

  “Are you serious, Dad?” Tina asked.

  “Why, of course. War, like politics, makes for strange bedfellows.”

  Then he started laughing while the rest of his people looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  SIX

  “I want Doctor Nate Lindgren and his PSE machine set up very close to us,” Ben instructed. “Have the microphone well-concealed and have him draw up a list of questions he wants me to ask Khamsin. Of course, Khamsin will be lying when he says he wants to be our ally—that goes without saying—but I want to be as close to one hundred percent certain as I can get.”

  Ben had still not explained his plan to any of his commanders, and they were all, with the exception of General Striganov, more than a bit irritated over Ben’s sudden trust of the Libyan.

  Pulling Ben off to one side, Ike said, “What the hell is going on, Ben? You know as well as me that damned terrorist is about as trustworthy as a cottonmouth.”

  “Relax, Ike,” Ben assured him. “Just take it easy. I know what I’m doing.”

  But Ike didn’t relax, and wasn’t all that convinced that Ben hadn’t gone round the bend. He walked away, shaking his head and muttering.

  Ben’s daughter came to him. “Dad. You can’t make any deals with Khamsin. That man and his people have raped and tortured and murdered halfway around the world. He’s pure filth.”

  “All that is true,” Ben conceded.

  “And you’re still going to meet with him and talk about joining forces?”

  “I am.”

  Tina whirled around and stalked away, her back stiff with anger.

  “Ben,” Cecil said, “if you let that Libyan get his army on this island, we’re finished. This isn’t like you at all.”

  But Ben would only pat his friend on the shoulder and smile. “Trust me, Cec. I know what I’m doing.”

  The commanders, with the exception of General Striganov, went to see Doctor Chase.

  “He’s suffering from strain,” Ike told the doctor. “That’s got to be the reason for all this. The way he laughed back yonder chilled me.”

  “Take two aspirin, have some chicken soup and call me in the morning,” the crusty old doctor told Ike. “Ben knows what he’s doing, people.”

  “Well, maybe you’d care to tell us exactly what he is doing?” Dan asked.

  “I don’t know,” the doctor admitted. “I don’t concern myself with matters outside this hospital. Relax, people. You know how secretive Ben can be. Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

  They got, but they were not happy. All they could do now was wait, with all of them wondering if General Ben Raines had slipped an oar.

  “The meeting is set for just after dark tonight,” the signalman told Ben. “Khamsin will cross over by boat and meet you in Lafayette Plaza.”

  Ben thanked him and turned to Georgi Striganov. “Have your people secure some rooms there, Georgi. You know the drill.”

  “Consider it done,” the Russian told him. He didn’t know exactly what Ben had in mind, only that he trusted the general to do something completely off the wall and totally unexpected. Georgi knew that first-hand. During the years they had battled each other, Ben Raines had boxed him around every time they’d met on the field of battle.

  The Russian knew that whatever the Libyan terrorist was desirous of from Ben Raines, it would not be what he was expecting.

  Tina and Buddy stayed close to their father, in the hopes he would reveal his plan to them. But he did not.

  The Night People launched attacks during the night. But the Rebels were dug in so deeply, their positions so well-fortified, all the creepies managed to accomplish was the death of more of their people. Even though the Night People still outnumbered the Rebels, they could not put them to rout.

  With low curses, the night crawlers melted away with a few bloody attacks.

  “Coming across,” a Rebel with night glasses informed Ben. “They’ll be ashore in a couple of minutes.”

  “I’ll be in the building,” Ben told him. “Please escort the Hot Wind to me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ben checked the mike. “Can you hear me, Nate?”

  “Loud and clear, General,” the doctor manning the PSE equipment called from the room above them.

  Ben sat down at the table and waited. The Libyan terrorist came into the room all smiles and good cheer. He held out his hand as Ben stood up.

  “My dear General Raines! At last we meet. I am honored, sir.”

  Ben forced a smile on his face and shook the man’s hand, sizing him up. He was stocky and powerful, and Ben guessed his age in the mid-forty range. Twenty years back, Ben recalled, this man had been one of th
e most feared terrorists in all the world. Hundreds of men, women, and children had died because of the bombs he had masterminded and planted around the world. Marines had been brutally massacred in Lebanon because of this man. American hostages had been tortured and starved and killed at this man’s orders.

  Ben resisted an impulse to tear the bastard’s arm out of the socket and beat him to death with it.

  “How good to see you, General Khamsin. Please, sit down. I have tea.”

  “Good, good!” The Libyan smiled, but the humor did not reach his dark eyes.

  The tea poured and sugared, the men stared at each other across the table. Ben’s personal bodyguards stood behind him, facing the Hot Wind’s bodyguards. There was no love lost in the exchange of glances between the two heavily armed groups.

  Ben watched as the Libyan’s eyes flicked toward Jerre. Ben had guessed accurately: Jerre was to have been a target. Probably still was. Thanks, probably, to Ashley. That turncoat son of a bitch was becoming as hard to kill as Sam Hartline had been.

  Khamsin opened the dance. “I made a regrettable decision in agreeing to align my forces with the Night People, General Raines. I did not realize how dangerous they were.”

  That lie probably sent the graph out of control on Nate’s PSE equipment.

  “They must be stopped,” Ben said.

  “Yes. For the good of the entire world.”

  “And once that is done, we can make peace with each other and coexist?”

  “But of course, General Raines! I am so weary of fighting. I am, after all, nothing more than a farmer. It is my desire to till the rich soil of South Carolina and live in peace.”

  “I can certainly relate to that,” Ben said, trying hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “I, too, want nothing more than a section of land to farm.”

  Tina almost choked on that.

  Ben Raines wanted to farm about as much as a raccoon could fly a 747.

  She didn’t know what her dad was up to, but she certainly knew both men were lying through their teeth.

  “It is agreed then, that we must join forces to defeat the Night People?” Khamsin said.