Ambush in the Ashes (30 page)

Jersey made gagging sounds. “There goes my appetite.”

“You’ll get it back by the time we reach the mess tent,” Corrie said.

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“Only if Cooper doesn’t insist on sitting with us.”

“I must,” Cooper said. “The sight of your lovely face thrills me.”

“Oh, God!” Jersey moaned.

Ben smiled and walked on. It was good to have the team back.

Ben was the first one up, as he knew he would be. He also knew that at the first whisper of sound, Jersey would be up, wide awake. Ben dressed quietly in the dark, gathered up his gear, and walked outside. He smiled. Jersey was sitting on the side of her cot, pulling on her boots. The other team members would only be seconds behind her.

At the mess tent, breakfast was not quite ready, but the huge urns of coffee were ready to serve. Ben pulled a mug and sat down, his team following suit. Ben looked up. To his surprise, Dr. Chase was walking in, his security people close behind him. The doctor drew a mug of coffee and sat down at the table with Ben.

“I went to bed too damn early,” Lamar bitched.

“You just want to get on the road, you old vagabond. Admit it, you’ve got ants in your pants.”

“I’ll admit nothing of the kind. I am a home-loving man, longing to be around the hearth, with kith and kin.”

“You also tell enormous lies, you old goat.”

“There is nothing to compare with being insulted at this ungodly hour of the morning.”

“You just want to get deeper into Nigeria and see if you can find out what happened to the people.”

“I will admit there is some truth in what you say. But it was no more than a lucky guess.”

“Well, if no one slips and breaks a leg, you’ll be able

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to pack up what little is left to do and be ready to move on time.”

“I should be so lucky.”

“Yeah, you’ll probably hold us up for three or four hours.”

Lamar gave Ben a very dirty look. “I’m not going to sit here and be insulted by the likes of you, Raines. I’m going to take my coffee and return to my quarters. There, I’m going to take sandpaper to several needles, break off the points, and await the time when you need booster shots.”

“You sure are a vicious old man, Lamar,” Ben said with a smile.

“Wait until you need a shot. Then you’ll see how vicious I really am.” But Lamar couldn’t maintain a straight face and he finally walked off laughing.

“All right, guys, let’s grab something to eat,” Ben told his team. “Then we’ll load up what’s left and move to the head of the column before traffic gets so bunched up we’ll never make it.”

Already, Rebels were beginning to line up at the serving area, where mounds of scrambled eggs, bacon, pork chops, beef steaks, fried potatoes, gravy, biscuits, fresh fruit and plenty of cold milk and hot coffee were waiting to be consumed. And consumed it would be, with very little scraps left. Whenever possible, Ben insisted on hot meals and plenty of food for his troops, for there would be days, perhaps weeks ahead of them, when everyone would be subsisting on field rations. But this would be the last of the fresh milk for awhile. Powdered milk would be available from here on in, but even ice cold, it did not taste as good as whole, fresh milk.

Ben finished his breakfast and had another mug of coffee, while he was waiting until his team was through. Beth had a huge thermos filled with coffee, then it was back to the CP for a final check, load up, and pile in.

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Cooper expertly guiding the big wagon through the seemingly impossible unorganized maze of traffic to near the head of the column. There, the team unassed the wagon and squatted or sat on the ground, out of the way.

Slowly the long, long line began to take shape. One by one the generators that lit up the encampment ceased their humming and the lights began winking out, the portable generators loaded onto trucks. Miles of cable were rolled up. The mess tents were struck. The encampment went dark.

Ben stood up and brushed off his clothing. “Let’s mount up, gang. We’ve got a long way to go. Nigeria is a big country, and it just might be full of surprises.”

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The convoy passed through village after village without seeing one living soul. It was baffling to Ben and frustrating to Dr. Chase and his medical team, especially those who were assigned to the mobile research lab which had joined Ben’s 501 just before leaving Niamey.

Scouts had found a dirt/shell road that led to Argungu, Nigeria. There, the Rebels found wild animals and half-wild dogs prowling the streets, and the streets were littered with hundreds and hundreds of skeletons-men, women, and children.

“Not shot,” Chase’s doctors reported to him. “We can’t find any evidence of trauma.”

“Get what samples of flesh still remain on die fresher bodies,” Chase ordered. “And run every kind of test you know how to run on them.”

“Scouts reporting that Sokoto suffered the same fate,” Corrie said. “Skeletal remains everywhere. But we’re getting radio transmissions out of Jega. Desperate calls from Paula Preston.”

“From w/io?”Ben blurted. “Paula? I thought she was dead.”

“So did everybody else. Seems she’s got a bunch of press types with her.”

“How the hell did they get to Jega?”

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“Don’t know, boss. I can’t make much sense out of anything she says.”

“Well hell, that’s normal, Corrie. Liberals never did make any sense … even before the Great War.”

Corrie ducked her head to hide her quick smile. “What do you want me to tell her?”

“I know what I’d like to tell her. Oh, hell! Tell them we’ll send rescue choppers down to get them ASAP. Get out to the airstrip and stay put.”

Ben stood for a few moments, leaning up against the big wagon. Sudden and very dark suspicions began clouding his mind. He turned to Corrie, but not before he noticed Dr. Chase looking at him very strangely.

“Corrie, where was Paula just before the assault?”

“Well …” Corrie hesitated. “Let’s see. She and the rest of the press had left us some time before and were traveling with another battalion. I’m not sure which one it was now.”

“Find out if you can, please.”

“Will do.”

“And find out just how the press managed to escape being slaughtered … although I have a pretty good idea.” He turned to Lamar. “It was a plague that struck this land, Lamar. I’m sure of that. A man-made plague, sent by Bruno Bottger.”

That remark shook the doctor. “Germ warfare, Ben?”

“You bet. Bruno had to test the killing bugs somewhere. And he wanted to get rid of all who opposed him. The bugs worked and he got rid of the people.”

“Monstrous!” Lamar stared at Ben for a few heartbeats. “But what has all this got to do with Paula Preston?”

“She’s tied in with it somehow.”

“But she’s a screaming left-winger, Ben. Our intel verified that.”

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“I know. But don’t forget she’s still tied in tight with Bruno. Our intel verified that, too.”

“Where the hell is Mike Richards when we need him?”

Ben smiled. “He’s over in Addis Ababa making goo-goo eyes at dancing girls or something like that. Is this place safe to bivouac near, Lamar?”

“Oh, yes. If it was a man-made germ that killed these people, and I’m not convinced of that, it was short-lived. My people checked the safety of the area first thing.” The doctor hesitated for a heartbeat. “Just don’t drink the water until we’ve done a few more tests. I’ve passed that word through the ranks.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Ben said drily.

“Oh, it wouldn’t kill you,” Lamar said brightly. “But it might give you the shits.” The doctor walked off toward the mobile research trucks, chuckling.

Ben sat down on the fender of a deuce-and-a-half and rolled a cigarette. It had been puzzling him for weeks why no trace of any member of the press had been found … except those from the SUSA, they had all been killed. That had been confirmed. But no sign whatsoever of the press who lived and worked and were a part of the political movement outside the SUSA.

Now he thought he knew why that was.

And it was a terrible thought.

But one that really did not surprise him.

Ben shook his head and sighed. But no, he thought, not all of them were guilty of collaborating with Bruno Bottger. He couldn’t believe that. But Paula Preston and Alex Marsh and Marilyn Dickson, yes, he was now 99 percent certain they were in some sort of cahoots with the man.

And the thought of it made him slightly ill.

Ben had known for years that he was probably the most hated man-in some circles-in America. He

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could live with that. So far he hadn’t lost any sleep over it. But for those left-wingers to hate him so much that they would get in bed with a monster such as Bruno Bottger was beneath contempt.

But it looked as though they’d done it.

“Jesus Christ!” Ben muttered under his breath, the words too low for his team to hear. “How far down can people sink?”

Pretty damn low, was his conclusion.

Ben’s mouth was suddenly very dry from disgust and rage. He unscrewed the cap from one of his canteens and took a sip of water. It helped, but not much. He unwrapped a stick of gum and chewed it. His mouth lost its bad taste.

“… Used to be a fishing festival held here,” Corrie was saying. “A big event. Fishing around this part of the river was banned for the rest of the year.”

“I sure would like to see some lions and tigers,” Cooper said.

“No tigers here, Cooper,” Beth told him, for about the umpteenth time. “Lions yes, tigers no.”

“They were in all the Tarzan movies,” Cooper insisted.

“Oh, shit, give up, Beth,” Jersey urged. “Cooper has a mind like a steel trap-one that is rusted shut.”

“That locks in all my knowledge, my beautiful little sun-baked flower,” Cooper responded.

“Stick it up your kazoo, Coop,” Jersey told him.

Corrie walked up to Ben. “No survivors anywhere in the town, boss,” she reported. “Or for several miles around in any direction.”

Ben nodded his understanding and stood up. “We’ll have to wait for the official report from the mobile research team, but I’m pretty sure it was a man-made bug that killed these people.”

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“Then he could use it on us just as easily,” Corrie stated softly.

“He won’t do that,” Ben told her. “He knows we’ve got nuclear capability as well as massive stockpiles of nerve agents, and he knows we have the delivery systems to annihilate him,” Ben’s smile was not pleasant. “And he knows I’ll do it. Corrie, tell security to bring Paula Preston, Marilyn Dickson, and Alex Marsh to my CP immediately upon landing.”

“Right, boss.”

The two reporters and whatever the hell Paula Preston was were scared and could not hide it. Alex Marsh was sweating and trembling, Marilyn Dickson was bug-eyed with fear, and Paula kept blinking her eyes and wiping the palms of her hands on a moist handkerchief.

“Interesting game you three were playing,” Ben opened the dance. “Fortunately for me, very unfortunate for you it didn’t work out as planned.”

“Whatever in the world do you mean, General?” Marilyn managed to squeak.

“Yes. What are you accusing of us?” Alex asked, his voice breaking.

“Oh … consorting with the enemy and espionage will do for starters, don’t you think?”

“You can’t prove any of those charges!” Marilyn blurted.

Ben smiled. “Not, ‘what are you talking about?’ Not, ‘I didn’t do anything.’ Just, ‘you can’t prove it.’ That just about says it all, doesn’t it?”

“The Union must be restored!” Alex finally found his balls and shouted the words.

“Even to the point of getting in bed with some low-life scum such as Bruno Bottger?”

“You talk about someone being low-life scum?” Mar-

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ilyn said. “You are one of the vilest men to walk the face of the earth. You … you … filthy beast!”

Ben chuckled. That phrase reminded him of one of his favorite Cary Grant movies, but he couldn’t recall the name of it. “Very convenient of all you press types to get away just before the assault. How’d you manage that?”

The three of them stood silent before him. They said nothing.

“Let me guess,” Ben said. “Paula here had a radio. Set on a scrambled dark frequency straight to Bruno. It’s possible it’s just a receiver. He alerted you when the attack was to take place and you simply walked out of camp and got clear. Maybe he even had vehicles waiting for you. I don’t know. But you sure as hell didn’t hoof it from the attack site to Jega.”

The three said nothing.

“I don’t know how many others are in on this with you, maybe none of them. Maybe all of them. But nevertheless, they’re all homeward bound as I can arrange it. I can’t risk spies wandering around our camps.”

“You have no proof to back up any of these accusations,” Marilyn said, her words dripping with hatred.

“Oh, but I do,” Ben corrected. “My intel people back home have now directly linked you and Marsh here to the takeovers outside the SUSA and the recent overthrow of the government. Paula here works for the intelligence section of the state department. Always has. She’s the only real pro in the bunch. The rest of you are just whiny left-wing liberals-of the worst type: the pukey kind.”

“May we sit down, General Raines?” Paula asked.

“Certainly. I’ll even have coffee or water brought in for you, if you like.”

“That would be very nice. Thank you. Coffee for me.”

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“And for me,” Marilyn said.

“Give me liberty or give me death!” Alex suddenly shouted.

“Oh, sit down and be quiet, you silly twit,” Ben told him. “If you were interested in true liberty you wouldn’t be a fucking liberal looking for big government to solve all your problems. At least know something about history and politics before you start flapping that foolish mouth.”

“Bring him a glass of water,” Paula said. “Coffee makes him very nervous.”

“Goodness, we certainly can’t have that,” Ben muttered.