Part 7 (2/2)
Ben was studying a map when his team joined him in the large office of the old complex. A seasoned Rebel medic, but a newcomer to Ben's personal detachment, said, ”You don't like those kinds of people very much, do you, General.”
100.Ben looked up and smiled at the Rebel. A medic that Doctor Chase had transferred to Ben's command. ”Book-burners,” he said. ”Self-appointed censors hiding behind their own narrow interpretation of the Bible. In their own way, they are no better than the worst racist group we have ever encountered. We demand a lot from our own people, but there is no one religion among our ranks. I don't care if you wors.h.i.+p a k.u.mquat.
Just don't try to force me to do it. I've disliked those kinds of people ever since I was old enough to reason. They're bullies and cowards waving a Bible. I don't give a d.a.m.n what happens to them.” He put his reading gla.s.ses back on and resumed his studying of the map. The subject was closed.
Field Marshal Jesus Hoffman sat in his quarters and looked at the wall.
The report transmitted from General Hans Brodermann and typed up by his staff lay on his desk. The most elite and combat-experienced of all histroops had been overrun and their numbers cut in half by a Rebel sneak attack during the predawn hours. Tons of equipment lost. Vehicles destroyed. Hundreds of weapons and thousands of rounds of ammunition gone, much of it taken by the marauding Rebels. His people were badly demoralized. The advance had been brought to an abrupt halt.
What manner of men and women were these Rebels?
He called out at the knock on his door, and the office filled with his most experienced commanders, from Captain to General. They sat at his gesture and waited in silence.
Hoffman stood up and looked at the group. Finally he 101.
said, ”We have marched thousands of miles. We have faced and overcome savage Indian tribes and armies whose numbers were ten times greater than those of the Rebels. Now we have scarcely advanced one hundred and fifty miles into North America and our losses number into the thousands.
And they have been inflicted upon us by a band of men and women whose numbers don't even equal one of our divisions.
”To the west of us, a mere three battalions of Rebels have effectively halted our advance into California, Arizona, and New Mexico. A very magnificent advance of ten to fifteen miles, I might add. The entire way drenched with blood. Our blood-not theirs. Disgraceful. To date, a rag tag band of North American malcontents, led by a middle-aged man, have managed to bring down the government of the United States, wipe out most of the bands of outlaws and mercenaries, kill off the world's best known and respected terrorists, defeat and destroy the armies of Khamsin, Lan Villar, and others, then sail halfway around the world and defeat Jack Hunt and his armies in Ireland, move to England and destroy the gangs there, free Hawaii, and now they have stopped us dead in our tracks. How?”
His commanders remained silent. They no more had the answer to that than did Field Marshal Hoffman.
Hoffman did not let up. ”And to further worsen the situation, Ben Raines has not defeated us with mighty salvos of artillery and huge tank battles. His people are attacking in small numbers in pickup trucks and light vehicles. And on at least two occasions my armies have been stopped and humiliated by a bunch of G.o.dd.a.m.n Texas cowboys on horseback!
We are the finest equipped army on the face of the earth”-Wrong! He just thought 102.
that. Ben's Rebels had equipment that Hoffman and his people did not even know existed-”and our people are being defeated by mounted Texas Rangers. On horseback, for G.o.d's sake! Charging us with six-shooters blazing!”
”Ah, actually, Field Marshal,” a general dared contradict, ”most of those Rangers were using 9-mm semiautomatic pistols and H&Ks or Uzis.”
”They were still riding G.o.dd.a.m.n horses, weren't they?” Hoffman flared, sitting down behind his desk.
”Ah ... yes, sir. Twice, that we know of.””What do you mean: 'that we know of?' ”
”They don't take prisoners, sir. And they seldom leave survivors.”
”Well, don't just sit there with your long faces hanging out. You are among the finest minds I have. Give me some suggestions and solutions.”
A young major stood up. ”Sir. What Ben Raines wants us to do is break up our forces and fight him guerrilla style. I feel that would be a grave mistake.”
”State your objections to that,” Hoffman ordered.
”General Raines and all his commanders know the country. They know it from coast to coast, border to border. They have supplies hidden in hundreds, perhaps thousands of secret caches. They have millions and millions of gallons of fuel hidden. Probably billions of rounds of ammunition and explosives. Several years ago our intelligence people reported that Raines' doctors and scientists have antibiotics-in powder form, sealed in air-tight containers-which will last for years. All they have to do is set up a portable lab, add water, or a few chemicals, and go from there. General Raines planned for this invasion, all the while hoping it would never come, but he was certainly going to be ready for it if it did occur. Our 103.
supplies are right now days behind us, struggling to reach us. And that's if we don't move from this location. I realize I am the youngest and least experienced man here, Field Marshal. But you asked for suggestions. I am afraid I do not have any solutions.”
”Thank you for speaking your mind, Major.” Hoffman knew the young major was brilliant, and felt that he had not spoken everything on his mind.
He smiled at the major. ”What would you do if you were sitting in this chair instead of me?”
”I honestly do not know, sir. And I admit that I have thought of what I might do. I could reach no conclusion.”
Hoffman stared at the young major for a moment, then nodded his head.
”Thank you, Major Weber. I appreciate your candor.”
Weber sat down. He knew he had not won any points with the older commanders present, but he had won some points with the Field Marshal, and that was all that mattered.
Hoffman drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. ”General Brodermann learned a hard lesson about the Rebels. But what happened was not entirely his fault. We had to learn how the enemy would fight, and now we know. With savage ruthlessness. Giving no quarter, asking none.
And that's the way we must fight them. We will hold here until our supplies reach us. A week; no more than that. Brodermann has asked that he be allowed to maintain his point position. I have said yes. General Schiller, start our terrorist groups marching at once. Spread them all over the nation. They know what they must do, and being terrorists, they do it extremely well.”
104”Yes, Field Marshal. At once.”
”General Jahn, are your fallschirmtruppen ready?”
”Ya, Field Marshal. My paratroops are ready to go at your signal.”
”Colonel Barlach, are you ready to receive prisoners for interrogation?”
”Yes, sir.”
Hoffman smiled. ”General Daimler?”
”Sir?”
”Do be so kind as to bring Colonel Barlach some prisoners. You know how testy he can be when he is not inflicting pain on someone.”
105.
Chapter Nine.”General Payon's eyes and ears in Mexico say that Hoffman's supply trucks will reach him in less than a week. Planes are already landing at the strip near his CP,” Corrie said.
”I wish I knew what he was up to,” Ben mused. ”Beth, did our people get anything of value from those prisoners we picked up and s.h.i.+pped over to Cecil?”
”Nothing, sir. They just don't know anything of value. Obviously, Hoffman and his top people play it pretty close to the vest.”
”And reports of random acts of terrorism are still coming in?”
”Yes, sir,” Corrie said. ”Savage, brutal, and totally senseless acts.”
”He's cut his radical fringe loose,” Ben said.
”All those messages we received for years were true,” Beth said. ”The hate for America never died.”
”So it seems,” Ben said softly. ”Those fruitcake groups still hate America and Americans as much, or more, as before. I didn't understand it then, and I still don't.” He smiled at his team. ”Don't look so startled, 106.
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