William Johnstone - Fire in the Ashes

Ben sent a company into the middle of Virginia to a national guard camp. They returned with sixty trucks loaded with arms, ammo, clothing, and food.

Other Rebel units had fared just as well in personnel, equipment, and supplies. All units had—at Ben’s orders—bypassed the cities, focusing their attention on the small towns and communities. The larger towns remained cordoned off and under martial law from the federal police. Ben’s Rebels ignored them.

The evening meal over, Ben and Dawn were relaxing. His command post, for that night, was the home of a man so overjoyed to see the Rebels and be free of federal police, he insisted Ben use his home for as long as the Rebels remained in the area. Ben had gladly accepted; it had been a long time since any of them had enjoyed the comforts of a lived-in home. He was enjoying the glass of brandy and reading about himself in the Richmond Post when Cecil knocked on the door.

“Hey, Cec,” Ben called, as his friend appeared in the foyer. “Don’t be so formal. Come on in and have a glass of brandy with us. I…” He cut his sentence when he noticed the young man with Cecil. “Anybody I should know?” Ben grinned.

“Ben,” Cecil said, a look of deep concern on his face. “…this is Jerry James, he’s a DJ at a radio station in Roanoke. They’re on an AP wire. He… got an urgent release in just about an hour ago. He came straight to us with it. You’d… better fix another drink and sit back down, Ben.”

Ben shifted his gaze from Cecil to Jerry to Dawn. He sat down on an ottoman. “Give it to me, Cecil.”

Cecil nodded gravely. “Some of Hartline’s men made a commando raid in northern California early this morning. They parachuted in. Others came in from the sea. An Air National Guard unit loyal to Lowry backed them up. It was swift and professional, Ben. We lost a lot of people. Crescent City and the surrounding area were destroyed—they used napalm. The report says nothing was left and the federal men took only one prisoner…”

“Jerre,” Ben finished it for him. “I know she had twins a little over two months ago. Any word on them?”

Cecil shook his head. “I’ve got people moving into that area as fast as they can get there, Ben. All we can do is hope.”

Ben sat motionless for several long heartbeats. Then he stood up quickly and faced his friend. His eyes were hard with a diamond-like quality. They glittered like a snake’s eyes. “You know, of course, why it was done?”

“Surely. To try to suck you into some kind of rash action.”

“Where is Ike?”

“He left this morning. Took a team and went up to Camp A P Hill. Said he knew where a lot of goodies were stashed up here.”

“Well, a personal vendetta won’t help Jerre; we don’t even know where the hell Hartline has her.”

“I can radio Ike. He’ll personally handpick a team and…”

“No! No good, Cec. I don’t think he’ll kill her. She would be no good to him dead. It’s going to be rough for her, but until we find out where she is, there is little we can do. Get hold of General Preston in Richmond; ask him if his people will help us on this—quietly. Once we locate her, then we’ll move.”

“Right away, Ben.”

“Thank you, Jerry,” Ben said to the young man.

“Yes, sir.” He left with Cecil.

Dawn came to his side, putting her hand on his arm. “Is there anything I can do, Ben?”

“I think the only thing that would help Jerre now is not of this earth.”

“I… don’t understand, Ben.”

“God,” he said.

“Hello, baby,” Hartline smiled at Jerre. “My, you are a fine-looking cunt.”

Jerre looked up at him. “Where am I?”

Hartline laughed. “’Bout a hundred miles from Ben Raines. You’re in Virginia, baby. Didn’t you have a nice flight out here?”

“Not particularly. Some of your men kept feeling me up. Where are my children?”

“They got away, so I’m told.”

“Matt.”

“I don’t know his name. Big blond fellow.”

“Matt,” she repeated with a smile. “I know that my children are safe.”

She seemed satisfied with that.

Hartline sat in a chair opposite her, a puzzled look on his handsome face. He didn’t understand these people, these followers of Ben Raines. Even though he had broken half a hundred of them, physically, and tortured another half a hundred, including rape and sodomy, they always seemed to look at him as if he were the loser.

Her smug expression infuriated the mercenary. He slapped her hard across the face, leaving a momentary imprint of his fingers on her flesh. She slowly brushed back her blond hair and continued staring at him.

“What’s with you people, anyway?” he demanded, his voice harsh. “You sluts and losers seem to think Raines is some sort of god. What kind of fucking special goddamned society did you people have, anyway, make you think you’re so fucking much better than the rest of us? Answer me!” he shouted at her.

Jerre realized at that moment she was dealing with a psychopath—at least that. And she had best walk softly in his presence.

“We don’t think we’re better than anyone,” Jerre told him. “But we do believe we had a good society.”

“Perfect one?”

“No. I don’t think that’s possible with humans being the carpenters of that society.”

“Ain’t that pretty?” Hartline said, his voice leaking ugly sarcasm. “Did you make that up in your pretty little head, baby?”

“No. Ben Raines did.”

“I’m tired of hearing about that motherfucker!” Hartline roared at her. “Sick of his name, you hear me? I don’t want you to say it in my presence unless I ask you to. You understand that?”

“Yes.”

He changed as quickly as the flit of a fly. He was now calm, smiling at her. “I think we’ll get along just swell, Jerre-baby.” He reached out and cupped a breast. “That’s nice, baby. I bet you could give a guy a ride, couldn’t you?”

“I… don’t know how you want me to answer that.”

“You like to fuck?”

“I enjoy making love.”

Hartline leaned back in his chair. His eyes were once more clouded. “Tell me about love, baby.”

“Are you serious?” she blurted.

She realized that was a mistake.

He slapped her.

Through her tear-blurred eyes she watched the mercenary unzip his pants and take out his penis. She felt hard hands on her shoulders and allowed herself to be forced to her knees, between his legs.

“I miss it, baby,” Hartline ordered. “Just pretend it’s a pork chop and lick on it. Unless, of course, you’re a Jew. Then you can pretend it’s a bagel.”

He thought that hysterically funny.

Jerre bent her head.

Tommy Levant wondered if he’d been found out. He thought all sorts of things as he walked to Director Cody’s office in the new Hoover Building in Richmond. He was told to go right in.

Cody pointed to a chair and Tommy sat, becoming more apprehensive with each tick of the wall clock. Al Cody turned and looked at the senior agent.

“I want you to know I had nothing to do with that raid out in northern California, Tommy.”

“I… didn’t think you did, sir.”

“Tommy, I feel dirty. I feel like I’ve… I don’t know how to describe it. You know, of course, about VP Lowry’s… ah… activities with Sabra Olivier. Tell me the truth, now, Tommy.”

“Yes, sir. The talk is out about it.”

“He’s a sick man, Tommy. He’s… something must be done. And I don’t know where to start.”

“I know how you feel about Ben Raines, sir.”

Cody shook his head. “ Did feel, Tommy. I’ve had a lot of time to think about my feelings. I still don’t like Ben Raines—but in retrospect, he perhaps had the right idea, after all. And he never harmed one innocent person; not to my knowledge.”