The secretary said, "It is not for us to criticize the general's activities."
"No one did."
"The look in your eyes did."
"I'll remember to be more careful."
The girl screamed and the secretary's hand shook as she lifted her teacup to her lips.
The radio operator smiled and put the needle to her friend. "You must remember to be more careful, Val. Your emotions gave you away."
"Watch your mouth, Hedda. I outrank you, remember."
Hedda laughed. "He'll be calling for the medics now. He probably split her."
The secretary's intercom buzzed. "Yes, sir."
"Call the medics to come get this stupid bitch,"
Striganov said. "Yes, General."
"And where is that damned Hedda?" "Standing right here, sir," she said with a wink at Hedda.
"Give me a few minutes, then send her in."
"Yes, sir." She looked up at Hedda.
"Take a seat.
He'll shower before he buzzes me again. He'll want to wash the blood away," she added bitterly.
"The radio room first," Ben told his people.
"We've got to take those people out but leave the equipment intact. The longer we can keep up this farce, the better off we'll all be."
"About fifty IPF men there, sir," Ben was informed.
"All right." Ben spread a map of the airport-compliments of the IPF back in Red Bluff-on the hood of his Jeep. "This is how we'll go in."
"Have you made contact with the Big Lake outpost?"
Sam Hartline asked the man in the radio room.
"Yes, sir. But it's very poor; breaking up badly. I can just make him out."
"Contact the Mount Shasta outpost."
"Yes, sir."
Mount Shasta was contacted, the signal clear and loud. Everything was five by five. Okay.
Boring.
Hartline's cold green eyes held a thoughtful light for a few seconds. "Get me General Striganov's CP."
The general came on the horn.
"Georgi? Is everything all right down your way?"
"So far as I can tell, yes. We've had some difficulty reaching some stations. But you're coming in very clear. It's baffling."
Hartline agreed. Baffling. But ... maybe not.
He said as much to the Russian. "Explain, please?" Striganov radioed back.
"We know Ben Raines is on the move, right?"
"Yes. But there has been no sign of any Rebels in our sector. And our network of outposts would have picked up any unusual movements. No, it's too soon for Ben Raines."
"Don't be too sure, Georgi. I'm going on full alert; sending out recon."
"Very well. I'll do the same. Keep in touch."
Hartline turned to his radiomen. "Contact our people on the border. Tell them we're going to full alert. Tell them to be very careful. Ben Raines is on the prowl."
"In our territory?" the radioman was startled.
Hartline nodded his handsome head. "I think so.
My guts tell me it's coming down to the wire."
Late afternoon began settling softly into dusk as Ben's Rebels, one by one, attracting no attention from the woebegone-looking people scattered about Redding, moved into position around the airport.
"Folks around here look like all the fight's been kicked out of them," Rebel observed.
"Sure looks that way," his partner agreed. "I haven't seen anyone so far I'd trust."
"I think what we're seein' is the losers; they'd be losers war or no war."
"Then where are the others?"
"Watchin' and waitin', I'd bet."
The Rebel's walkie-talkie, clipped onto his web belt, crackled softly.
"Go ahead," the Rebel spoke.
"This is Raines. I've just been informed there is a very active resistance force of Americans working out of Redding. They know we're here and will be linking up with you point people very soon. Leader's name is Harris."
"Ten-four, General."
"Over to your right, Mac."
Mac looked. A man was standing in the doorway of what had once been a drugstore. He waved the Rebels across the street.
They approached him cautiously.
"I'm Harris," the man announced. "Man, are we glad to see you people."
"Is that right?" Mac asked. "You look like you're big enough to kick ass and take names. Why didn't you?"
Harris smiled bitterly. "I've got about seventy-five people in my group. Seventy-five out of three thousand. That tell the story?"
Mac was sorry he had spoken so sharply. But while he knew what the Rebels were doing was necessary, he, like so many Rebels, including Ben Raines, was getting damn tired of fighting other peoples' wars for them.
"Yeah, Harris. It does. Sorry Ipopped off at you."
"I understand. Believe me, I do. Many times I've had to just grit my teeth and walk off before I shot some of the roll-over crybabies around here."
"Many sympathizers around?"
Harris spat on the littered, dirty sidewalk.
Mac and his partner got the message.
"What do you want me and my people to do?" Harris asked.
"Lay back and stay out of it. When we're finished, I imagine General Raines will put you in charge. Then you can deal with matters the way you see fit."
"With pleasure."
Mac and his partner waited on the outskirts of Redding, waited with Harris in the looted shell of the drugstore in the small shopping center ... or what had once been one. Mac and his partner were just one of many two-person teams scattered in a loose circle around the airport. If any IPF people managed to escape the initial attack on the airport, they would be cut down by the Rebels encircling the area.
"You speak any Russian?" Mac asked Harris.
"Some. I'm no expert. But I picked up some while a prisoner of the IPF."
"How'd you get away from them?"
"Broke and ran one night. They shot me."
He lifted his shirt; his stomach was pocked with bullet scars. "They thought they'd killed me.
Left me and took off chasing the other guy who broke out with me. I managed to crawl into a ditch before I passed out. My people found me before morning. I just made it. Charlie didn't. He died pretty damned hard, so I was later told. Never again will I allow my freedom to be taken from me. Never!"
the word was spoken hard.
"And I'll kill any person who tries."
Mac smiled through the gathering gloom at his partner.
Harris would do to ride the river with.
"Any weak links in your group?"
"None. But there was ... for a long time. I kept wonderin' why the IPF knew every move we were gonna make. We'd change hideouts; they'd be right there. Lost a lot of people durin' that time. Better than twenty-five percent of my group bought it.
That's how I got captured. After I got on my feet, I started some hard checkin'. I found out who it was and killed him. We've had no more leaks. But it was a damned hard thing for me to do."
It was a story the Rebels were accustomed to hearing.
"Friend of yours, huh?"
Harris looked at him. "Yeah. He was my brother."
Chapter.
Ten.
Like silent ghosts in tiger-stripe and lizard camo, the Rebels moved along the buildings of theRedding airport. Those IPF personnel who happened to be on foot patrol, or just unfortunate enough to be outside while the Rebels were moving into position, met silent, abrupt death with black wire or darkened blades. Their bodies were dragged out of sight and dumped.
Swiftly and softly, the Rebels took their positions, all of them just a bit nervous about this raid. For the general was personally leading this attack.
"Damned fool!" Sylvia whispered to him, as they crouched inside the tower, on the tarmac. "You've got men and women thirty years younger that you and Ike personally trained to do this sort of work. What are you trying to prove?"
Ben's smile flashed in the night. He leaned close and whispered, "Are you trying to tell me I'm over the hill, kid?"
Sylvia flushed and blushed. She knew damn well Ben was far from being over the hill. In more ways than one. Then her eyes widened in shock as Ben leaned closer still and blew softly in her ear.
"Ben! Quit! Shit!" she whispered. "You're insane!"
Ben kissed her cheek and chuckled softly. "Are you trying to tell me this is not the place for romance, kid?"
Sylvia could but shake her head and sigh. All her life she had heard stories about how totally unpredictable General Ben Raines was.
She could damn well believe it now.