William W. Johnstone "It's over, Sandy," Ray said. "Done. We had a good thing going for six months or so, now it's done."

"So now we start over, right?"

Ray smiled and again shook his head. "Maybe a few of us will, Sandy. But for most of us, it's over. We're in a box. By the time those dumbasses tracking Raines figured it out, it was too late. Raines has moved in about three of his beefed-up battalions in addition to what swung off from the column along the way. We're trapped."

"How about slippin' out a few at a time?" another gang leader suggested.

"You can try it. Fine with me. Some of you might make it. But I'm stayin' here and facin' hot-shot Raines. We're gonna settle this thing once and for all."

"OK, Ray," the gang leader said. He stood in front of Ray for a moment, shuffling his feet. "Ah ..."

"Oh, hell, Buzz!" Ray told him, no anger in his words. "You can cut out anytime you like. I'm not gonna feel hard toward you. But I will tell you that the odds of you making it clear are real poor. Look here, man."

Ray stood up and moved to a map of the state. "We're here, Buzz." He puta finger on the map. "Right here in this little town. There's a main road goin' east and west and a main road goin' north and south. Raines has all them blocked. There's all kinds of dirt and gravel roads runnin'

in all directions. Raines has them blocked, too. Raines has put an entire battalion of special operation troops all around this town.

They're layin' 'bout ten miles out in a huge circle, just waitin' for someone to try to make a break for it. He's got snipers out there with long-range .50-caliber rifles just waitin' to kill somebody. You ever seen a .50-caliber rifle, Buzz? No? You'll never hear the round that drills you, man. You're dead before the sound reaches you. You've heard the sounds of helicopters and planes for the last two, three days, haven't you, Buzz? Sure you have.

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Those are part of Raines' army. Those are helicopter gun-ships and those damn souped-up and reworked P-51Es. They're in the air during the day, weather permitting, looking for somebody to kill ... and that's us, Buzz. At night, Raines doubles up the patrols." Ray smiled. "He's a thorough bastard, give him that"

"You... knew all along that Raines was gonna do this?"

"Sure. It's Raines's style. I been studyin' the bastard for years. But,"

Ray sighed, "I was figurin' on a little more time to get clear. The son-of-bitch outfoxed me. That's life, Buzz. Take the good with the bad, man. But there just might be a way out. One way. Now listen, you people- when the artillery bombardment starts, we cut out, on foot I mean, we get clear of this town just as fast as shank's mare can carry us. We go in all directions. We take two, three days' supply of food and water, a blanket, a poncho, and a weapon. That's all. We g^>t to travel light Some of us will make it. Not many, 'cause the goin' is gonna be tough as hell. But a few of us will make it. If we can get four or five miles clear of this town, we hole up. We find us a spot to hide and we make like gophers and we don't move. The Rebels will look over what's left of the town, and then pull out. It's the way they been doing it ever since he began this push, weeks ago. We can't try to run before the artillery barrage begins. Raines is anticipating us doin' that. We got to time this just right. Now get on back and talk to your people. Get some supplies together. Keep two canteens filled up to the brim. Be ready to go. Go on, get out of here."

When the room had cleared of all but a few of Ray's most trusted people, one asked, "You really think we can make it out of here, Ray?"

"Some of us. If we don't panic. That's the trick. We've got to keep our wits about us. Once in the timber, we 262.

move very cautiously-alert all the tune. Raines won't be expecting us to be ready for him. So we've got to be ready." When Ray was finally alone, he sat very still for a time. Everybody else could run, but not him.

He'd pretend like he was running toward the timber, then double back.

This time, he silently swore, he'd kill Ben Raines. If he could think of some sort of edge, that is. If not, he'd run like a rabbit and forget all about the rest of these damn losers.Ben got the artillery in place, but it was only with a supreme effort on the part of his people, for the terrain was rugged and the county roads in very bad shape.

Ben, however, had no intention of using artillery to finish off the last of the punks. He just couldn't be sure they'd gotten all of Simon Border's infiltrators and he couldn't take a chance on divulging his real plans until the very last minute.

The country was totally unsuitable for tanks, and they would be confined to the four main roads, when Ben decided to call them up.

He had briefed his batt corns on his plans, and what Ben had in mind came as no surprise to any of them. They knew how much Ben hated Ray Brown.

Ben pulled in another battalion and added them to those ringing the town and patrolling the mountains and forests. Ben was determined to put an end to the punks, once and for all.

Mike Richards showed up with his band of guerrillas and they looked much better than the last time Ben had seen his intelligence chief.

"You eating regular now, Mike?" Ben asked with a smile.

"You bet. Ben, I wanted to come back to see you close the book on the punks."

"Oh, they'll always be punks, Mike. But probably never 263.

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in as large a concentration as those we've been hammering for the past months. Now tell me the real reason you returned so quickly."

Mike chuckled. He rose and refilled his coffee mug, then turned and faced Ben, a serious expression on his face. "Simon is preaching a holy war, Ben. He's telling his faithful that this war will be the war to bring God back to the nation. I remind you again, the man has millions of followers, and not just confined to his territory."

Ben spread his hands. "I know, Mike. I know only too well. I've told the man repeatedly that once we deal with the punks, we're out of his territory. But if he wants a war, there is not a damn thing I can do to prevent that from happening. I spoke with the fool not an hour ago. Told him that I'd forget all about his Guards of God attacking us back up the road. Told him again that once Ray Brown is dealt with, if he'll let us, we're out of his territory. He said he would bury us all here and then broke the transmission. I've back-pedaled all I'm going to. I just can't do anymore."

"What's happening back home to meet this challenge, Ben?"

"Factories working around the clock. All planes and helicopters and tanks ready to roll. All battalions on the move toward the eastern edge of Simon's territory."

"Nineteen battalions against twenty million of the faithful, all of them religious fanatics, ready to die for God and Simon Border?""I don't see that I have any choice, Mike."

"Oh, I understand that, Ben. I wasn't criticizing you. Just, well, appalled at the odds, that's all."

"Join the club."

"Well, when you decide to move, I've got teams of people scattered all over Border's little kingdom, sitting on ready to launch a guerrilla action. We'll be able to help some."

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"We?"

"Oh, I'm going back into Border's territory. I, ah, well, I feel I can be more use in there, that's all."

"Found you a woman, huh, Mike?"

The chief of intelligence at first looked disgusted, then the man actually blushed. "Damn, Ben. How do you do that? I'm going to have to put some credence in the longstanding rumor that you possess a third eye."

Ben laughed at the man. "I'm just a good guesser, Mike. That's all."

"Well, yeah, I did sort of take up with a lady. And she is a real lady, Ben. She got taken in by Simon's line years ago and moved west with a group of people. Didn't take her long to see through the bastard, though. She's been part of a guerrilla unit for several years."

"You want to pull her out and move her to Base Camp One?"

Mike shook his head. "I've already suggested that. She won't hear of it"

"Then I'll tell you what to do, Mike-you head on back and stay with her.

Give us a good fix on your location, and I'll arrange to have to you resupplied by airdrop. Hell, there is nothing for you to do here. Go on back up north and get set up for the push."

"That's firm then, Ben? We're really looking at a religious war?"

"I don't see any way out of it." Ben didn't say anything about the request that when the Rebels finished in North America, they make plans to head for Africa. Ben knew how opposed Mike was to that.

Mike was of the opinion that if the Rebels went to Africa, they could be bogged down there forever.

And Ben wasn't too sure the man was that for off base in his thinking.

After Mike had left, Ben sat for a time alone in his motor 265.

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home. His people were almost ready to strike at, as Mike put it, "the last bastion of punks."And then ... the fight that Ben knew would possibly, no, probably tear the country apart. But he didn't see any way out of a fight with Simon Border. Border was the type of so-called Christian that drove Ben away from organized religion when he was just out of his teens, and Ben had never gone back.

Ben had been baptized as a youth, had read the Bible all his life for inspiration and comfort, and still did, often, believing strongly in God and in some type of life after death. But he worshipped God in his own way and was a strong Old Testament man. Ben was a strong law and order man, but one's personal life was their own business. Ben believed in maximum freedom with a minimum of laws, and no interference in one's personal life as long as that person obeyed the laws of the SUSA. Ben didn't give a damn if a person sat nude in their bathtub worshipping a bucket filled with kumquats ... just as long as that person did not try to convince a person under the age of consent that their way was the best way and the only way.

That's where Ben drew the line.

Ben walked outside to stand for a moment, breathing deeply of the cold late fall air. He looked around him. Beautiful country. He cut his eyes as Corrie walked up to stand beside him.

"Those goofy reporters are in the rear with Emil," she said.

"Good. Everything set?"

"Sitting on ready."

"No unusual activity in the town?"

"No, sir."

"Ray's got something up his sleeve, because he sure knows we're here."

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"No way he could have found out what we have planned."

Ben nodded his agreement with that. "Well, we'll see in the morning. We hit him at first light."

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The Rebels, Ben and his team with them, had moved into position during the early morning hours. This was their type of assault and to a person they excelled at it. The first assault team had moved to within a few yards of the old town limits and waited for Ben's signal. Not one of the first to go in had made a sound during their advance. They waited like silent death for the first gray shards of lights to lighten the eastern skies.

"Now!" Ben whispered to Corrie; she radioed the command, and the Rebels surged forward.

All around the town's outer limits, the Rebels started chucking grenades into buildings, giving those inside a very rude, if brief, awakening.Ray Brown had been awake for several hours, tension making him unable to sleep. When the first muffled explosion reached him, the gang leader knew Ben Raines had outfoxed him-again. He grabbed his rucksack and rifle and headed for the back door.

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"That miserable bastard!" Ray muttered, running for the timber. There were screams of fright and shock and pain ripping the cold air, drifting to him.

Suddenly, all the air whooshed out of him and he went to the ground hard, losing his rifle as he hit the earth. He looked up and cussed as he fought for breath.

Ben was standing over him, smiling.

"You asshole!" Ray gasped, holding his stomach where Ben had popped him with the butt of his CAR.

"My scouts pinpointed your location days ago, punk," Ben said. "I've been waiting for you to make a run for it."

"Then go ahead and shoot me, you bastard!"

Ben shook his head. "Oh, no, punk. That would be too easy. Get up."

Ray had caught his breath, now breathing easier. He laughed at Ben. "Are you nuts, old man? You really want to tangle with me, one-on-one?"

"That's right, Brown. Mano-a-mano. Are you intelligent enough to know what that means?"

Ray crawled to his knees. "I know what it means, Raines.''

"Unbuckle that pistol belt," Ben ordered. "And do it very carefully."

"With pleasure, Raines." Ray tossed the belt, with its holstered pistol and knife, to one side. "Do I get up now?"

"By all means, punk." Ben had laid his CAR aside and removed his battle harness, tossing it on the ground.

Ray looked around as he rose to his feet. Ben's team was standing off to one side. A dozen other Rebels were standing silently, watching. "What happens when I win, Raines?"

"No chance of that happening, punk."

"This is no-holds-barred, Raines? Anything goes?"

"Just the way I like it, shithead."

Ray cursed and charged Ben. Ben sidestepped and 269.

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tripped the gang leader, sending him sprawling on the ground. Nothinghurt except his pride.

"Get up, hot-shot," Ben taunted the gang leader. "Damn, there isn't much to you."

Ray jumped to his boots, cussing Ben. He swung at Ben, missed, then connected widi a glancing left to the face.

Ben stepped back, shook his head, and popped Ray twice, a left and right combination, belly and jaw.

The twin blows drove die younger man back. Raines might be middle-aged, die diought jumped into Ray's brain, but die bastard could still punch.

Ray stepped back and spat out blood, then stepped in close and bodi men stood toe-to-toe for half a minute, exchanging blows, most of the blows falling on arms and shoulders, doing litde damage to either combatant.

Ray was 20 years younger, but he was badly out of shape. Ben, on the odier hand, had been living in die field for years, and maintained a daily schedule of calisthenics, which he followed religiously.