Fire in the Ashes

There had been hard resistance from federal agents and federal police and a few guard and reserve units. The Rebels had crushed it, brutally. They had taken casualties: twenty-nine dead, seventy wounded. But the toll on the federal people, including Hartline's men, was staggering by comparison. Fresh graves marked the battle sites all along the Rebel route.

Now, the Rebels were adamant in their refusal to take prisoners; they had no place to keep them, did not have the time for political indoctrination. If you fought the Rebels, you were dead. The enemy knew better than to attempt any surrender.

Recruits were joining the Rebels at the rate of more than twenty per day, usually men and women between the ages of eighteen and thirty. Ben incorporated the best of them into his regular ranks, using the rest as drivers, cook's helpers, runners, and any small jobs that would free his experienced men and women for combat.

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.