Part 4 (1/2)
The Russian turned away from the maps andreturned to his desk, picking up the latest photos of the babies born to human mothers, mutant fathers.
”Ugly b.a.s.t.a.r.ds,” Striganov muttered, gazing at the enlarged photos. It would be at least a year, probably longer, before their intelligence could be truly tested and the Russian could know for sure if he had succeeded in producing a worker race; a select breed to serve as servants and houseboys and field hands.
But his scientists were sure they had done it.
”We'll see,” Striganov said. He pressed a b.u.t.ton on a panel on his desk. An aide stuck her head inside.
”Sir?”
”I need a bath. Send a girl in to a.s.sist me.”
”Yes, sir.”
Striganov waited patiently until there came a timid knock on his office door. ”Come!” he called.
A girl, no more than fourteen, at the most, entered the lushly appointed office of the supreme commander of the International Peace Force.
”Sir?” she said, keeping her eyes downcast.
”You're new,” Striganov said. ”When did you arrive in camp?”
”About two weeks ago, sir. I have been tested by the doctors.”
Which meant the young girl was free of any disease and ready, if not willing, to be on call to General Striganov. The general had developed some rather curious s.e.xual habits over the past few months.
He attributed that to his a.s.sociation with Sam Hartline.
”What is your name, girl?”
”Jane.”
”Jane, sir.”
”Yes, sir. I won't forget again.”
”Fine. Remove your robe.”
Jane unbelted her robe and let it fall to the thick carpet. Striganov licked suddenly dry lips at the sight of her nakedness. The girl was a rare blooming flower, he thought. No doubt about it.
Her pubic hair was thick and lush. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s forming up nicely, centered with brown-cherry circles. Her little nipples looked delicious.
Striganov had long ago given up on finding a virgin. Any girl over six who still had her virginity would be a rare find, indeed.
But his men were still looking.
”Come to me,” he said, his voice thick with growing pa.s.sion. His trousers bulged with his erection.
He pulled her onto his lap and began stroking her flesh. Georgi Striganov felt this was going to be a good year. He had a full complement of willing young girls to satisfy his s.e.xual needs, and very soon he would see Ben Raines die. Yes, a good year indeed.
Chapter Five.
The morning broke to a gray sky and a hard-falling rain. It was just as well. For Ben had made up his mind to cancel the jump anyway. By doing that, he would give his first battalion more time to get in position, and the Rebels coming from the east more time to arrive.
Leaving Sylvia to sleep amid the warmth of their blankets, Ben dressed and pulled a poncho on and stepped from his command post. He walked over to Ike's quarters and knocked on the door.
”Come on in, Ben.”
Ben shucked his poncho and hung it up. He moved to the coffeepot at Ike's wave of his hand and poured a cup.
It really wasn't coffee, but a mixture of coffee and chicory and other things that Ben would just as soon not know.
”You and Sylvia decided to just shack up and to h.e.l.l with what the others think?” Ike asked, a grin on his face.
”Might as well. Her idea. But fine with me.
Ike, we both can't buy it on this run.
Have you given that any thought?”
”Sure have. And I think you ought to stay back here and-was Ben waved him silent. ”You can take that thought and shove it, pal. Ike, after Sylvia went to sleep last night, I couldn't sleep ...”
Ike paid him back for cutting him off. ”I'm sure you couldn't. Probably laid there and wondered if you was goin' to have a heart attack.”
Then the ex-Seal roared with laughter at the expression on Ben's face.
Ben unsuccessfully fought to hide his grin and took a sip of the awful-tasting brew. At least it was hot. ”I've got to be thinking of a successor, Ike.”
”When you finally buy it, Ben,” Ike said, ”the movement goes with you.” There was a flatness, a finality, in his voice that Ben did not like.
”Ben, I'm an ol' curly wolf; not an administrator. Cecil is one of the finest men I have ever known in my life, but he'll be first to tell you: he won't be able to hold it together. No, Ben, it's your show all the way. h.e.l.l, partner, it always has been. I knew that when you showed up down in Florida ... Christ, how many years ago was that?”
”More than I care to recall,” Ben said with a sigh. ”Okay. We'll talk about that later.
Let's get down to business. You're sure you want to take your people in from the south?”
”You bet.”
”You're going to have some hot area behind you, buddy. No backing up for your bunch.”
Radioactive areas. ”I don't intend to back up, Ben. Just go forward and sideways and every other which way.”
It was to be the type of war that Ben and Gray and Ike were trained to fight: a cut-and-slash, hit-and-run, guerrilla-type action.
Ben nodded. What deep recon intel they had been able to receive showed that Hartline had few planes.
He could not escape by air. And since the nuclear blasts, the tides had been affected; the oceans that hammered the coasts on both ends of the United States had become a raging torrent of fury.