Part 37 (1/2)

Ben laughed at the man.

Dimly Ben could hear James Riverson's voice. ”Let them alone,” the sergeant major ordered. ”The general's gotta do it his way.”

”Why?” a Rebel questioned.

”Because he's Ben Raines, that's why,”

was James's reply.

Ben hammered at the man's stomach with hard fists, punis.h.i.+ng the man. Blood from the outlaw's mouth sprayed Ben.

”Gimme a break,” the thug panted.

”All right,” Ben said, then broke the outlaw's neck with a hard karate chop.

The outlaw fell to the ground, dying. He looked up at Ben through confused eyes. He seemed to want to say something. But before he could, death took him. And that surprised Ben, for he had seen lots of people live a long time with a broken neck. Then he saw the pink froth leak from the outlaw's mouth. Either he had ruptured the man's stomach-which wasn't unlikely-or he had shattered a rib and the rib had punctured a lung. Or nicked the heart.

Ben took several deep breaths. ”Report,”

he said.

”The outlaw camp is wiped out. We suffered two wounded. No dead,” James reported. ”How do you feel, General?”

Somewhere down the line, Ben had lost his black beret. He took out a cammie bandana and wiped the sweat from his face, then tied the bandana around his head, leaving the ends dangling. ”Good,” Ben said.

James smiled. ”Now you look like Rambo, Ben.”

”Who the h.e.l.l is Rambo?” a Rebel asked.

Ben and his Rebels made a wide circle, at one point moving deep into Wyoming after the outlaws.

The Rebels found a half-dozen outlaw camps, destroying them, killing perhaps, in their two-week pursuit, an additional three hundred outlaws, not counting the several hundred killed in the botched ambush on the interstate.

They hammered straight across the center of what had once been known as Nevada. When they reached the base camp in Redding, Ben was met by a grim-faced Ike.

Ike brought Ben up to date. Quickly. ”This G.o.dd.a.m.ned Khamsin's grabbed Nina. Sent me a message, through Hartline. Hartline found it amusing.”

”I just bet he did,” Ben said. ”Ike, can you push aside your emotions as the highly trained SEAL you are?”

Ike stiffened. ”You know d.a.m.n well I can, Ben.” ”You'll be doing what you were trained to do, years ago, Ike. Fighting a dirty little guerrilla war with the only supplies that you can carry with you.”

”I know, Ben.”

”And you know that Nina may be long dead?”

”I know.”

”How many personnel you want?”

”Two platoons,” Ike said quickly.

”You've thought this out carefully?”

”Many, many hours.”

”All right, Ike. Call Base Camp One and get as many planes out here as you think you'll need to transport your people east. They'll leave immediately.

Either way it goes, Ike, stay out there. Start helping train resistance fighters and put the needle into Khamsin. We'll never be strong enough to take him head to head, so we're going to have to hit and run.

Might as well get used to it.”

”Sam Hartline?”

”I'll take care of Sam Hartline. And I know just how I'll do it. I've given it much thought.

I know how to pull the arrogant son of a b.i.t.c.h out of his fortress.”

Ike c.o.c.ked his head to one side. ”How, Ben?”

”We're going to have a funeral, ol'

buddy. With lots of weeping and wailing and moaning and slow walking and sad singing.”

”A.

funeral!

Whose?”

Ben smiled. ”Mine.”

Chapter.

Thirty-three.

The transport planes roared in and settled down on the runways late the next day. The pilots slept for a few hours, then took off again in the dead of night, carrying Ike and his hand-picked teams.

Ben made himself comfortable inside his command post and stayed put. He ordered Dr. Chase and his people to start scurrying back and forth between the hospital and Ben's command post.