William W Johnstone - Ashes 20 - D Day in the Ashes (txt)

BEN RAINES HATES PUNKS . . .

The secretary-general of the United Nations, Son Moon, said, "I believe

you will find that everything is in order, General Raines. Once you have

signed that document, the SUSA will be officially recognized as a

sovereign nation, with all the guarantees and rights accorded such by

the United Nations. In return, you will help us restore order in every

country you're needed in."

"My people aren't peacekeepers, Mr. Secretary," Ben said.

NORTH AMERICA KNOWS IT ...

The secretary-general smiled. "We don't expect you to be peacekeepers,

General. Just restore some semblance of order around the world."

Ben nodded. "I want it known, up front-no matter what country my people

go into, we aren't going to screw around with two-bit warlords and punks

and thugs. If they oppose us, they're dead."

"You are in full command of the entire operations. All concerned

understand that," the secretary-general said. "Where do you plan on

making your initial landing in Europe?"

"France." Ben smiled. "Normandy."

NOW THE WORLD WILL FIND OUT!

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William W. Johnstone

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5 This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and

incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used

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First Printing: August, 1994

First Pinnacle Printing: March, 2000

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Printed in the United States of America

6 This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the

home of the brave.

-Elmer Davis

Laws that forbid the carrying of arms. . . disarm only those who are

neither inclined nor determined to commit crimes ... Such laws make

things worse for the assaulted and better for the assailants; they serve

rather to encourage than to prevent homicides, for an unarmed man may be

attacked with greater confidence than an armed man.

-Thomas Jefferson

7 Long before the United States of America collapsed under the sheer

weight of liberal programs, as the touchy-touchy, kissy-kissy group took

over Washington, there were millions of people who were looking for a

way out of the morass caused by our elected ninnies and nannies in

Congress. Political correctness was the order of the day. Fat people

could no longer be called fat; now they were calorically adventurous

persons- thanks to liberals. There was no such thing as true juvenile

justice, so consequently many kids could and did thumb their noses at

law and order, discipline, and respect-thanks to liberals. Minors could

kill in cold blood and know that if caught, they wouldn't spend much

time in the bucket-thanks to liberals. The public schools went to

shit-thanks to liberals. It wasn't that teachers couldn't teach, for

this country had the most qualified teachers of any country in the

world. But when teachers are in fear for their lives, how the hell can

they be expected to teach? Teachers could no longer spank due to

restrictive legislation, the parents

8

William W. Johnstone

couldn't spank for fear of being hauled into court on child abuse

charges, so discipline went right out the window-thanks to liberals. The

minority-elected president and his nonelected czarina went on

television-and to the surprise of those who knew the facts-declared that

guns were the nation's number-one health hazard. Really? According to

the latest statistics available for the year that piece of liberal

Democratic hysteria-inducing bullshit was uttered, motor-vehicle

accidents were number one with 40,300 deaths, falls were number two with

12,400 deaths, poisoning was number three with 5,200 deaths, drowning

was number four with 4,300 deaths, fires and burns number five with

4,000 deaths, suffocation by ingested objects number six with 2,700

deaths, and firearms were number seven with 1,400 deaths. So much for

the accuracy of mush from the mouth of the president.

Long before the fall of what had once been the greatest nation on the

face of the earth, liberals saw to it that cops could no longer

effectively enforce the law. Sensitivity training was the order of the

day. If a court decision went the wrong way (to the viewpoint of some),

certain minority groups took to the streets in a mindless rampage of

savagery and barbarism and looted and burned and killed and assaulted,

and then certain minority leaders went on TV and stated that it wasn't

their fault. Really? That's right. It was the fault of those of us who

work seven days a week, obey the law, pay the majority of taxes in this

country, try to raise our children right, and do everything else that we

were taught was right and correct and moral. And the liber-

9

als? What side did they fall on ... ? Well, you know the story by now;

no point in belaboring it.

There were many who saw the direction in which the nation was heading.

They wrote letters to their elected dunder- and danderheads in

Washington (letters that were, in most cases, read by some little twitty

self-righteous aide), they phoned (their calls were noted, and the

elected officials went right ahead and voted party lines and to hell

with the views and opinions of the people that they supposedly

represented). The majority of the people demanded the death penalty for

certain crimes (that sometimes happened- usually about fourteen years

and millions of dollars of taxpayer money after the crime-thanks to

you-know-who).

Then the gun-grab happened. It was predictable, for liberals are scared

to death of guns. They pee their lace-trimmed drawers and stomp on

hankies at just the thought of a gun. Liberals are so colossally

ignorant, they cannot understand that guns don't kill, it's the person

who pulls the trigger who kills. A gun can do absolutely, positively

nodiing until someone picks it up. Liberals are so stupid they actually

believe that a gun has a brain (that might be because liberals don't

have a brain).

There were those Americans who tried to point out certain facts to the

liberal gun-grab people. Naturally they were ignored by the Washington

crowd, belittled and scorned and depicted as nuts and kooks by TV news

departments (anybody know of a true conservative who is a major news

anchor?).

Toward the end of the millennium, the liberals got

10

William W. Johnstone

their way-all guns were banned, except for those in the hands of the

police and the military and certain elected and appointed government

officials. Thousands and thousands of gun owners carefully sealed their

weapons in airtight and watertight containers and buried them rather

than give them up, even though liberals passed legislation that called

for the death penalty for anyone found with a handgun or an assault

rifle . . . unless you were a member of certain minority groups, an

elected government official (and their families, aunts, uncles,

brothers-in-law, and close liberal friends), a member of the liberal

press, certain talk-show hosts, fans of Jane Fonda, and anyone who voted

for President Blanton. Anyone who was found with a Reelect Nixon, Join

the NBA, God, Guns & Guts bumper sticker, or belonged to the Gharlton

Heston fan club was to be put to death immediately.

"There now," spake Vice President Harriet Hooter and Representative Rita

Rivers. One bore a remarkable resemblance to a Shetland pony and had

just about as much sense, and the other reportedly actually offered to

screw one for a hundred bucks (business had been sort of slow on the

streets that night). "That ought to show those nasty Republicans that we

mean business."

"Right on, sister!" Rita said. "Hot damn! Power to the people. Get down

and boogie!" She turned up the volume on her Walkman and did a few steps

while listening to her favorite rap group: I Be's Cool & You Ain't Shit

You Honky Mother-Fucker.

"Isn't that cute?" the president's wife said.

11

"Does anybody have a Twinkie they can spare?" the president asked. "I'm

hungry."

"How else can we fuck up the taxpayers' lives?" Senator Benedict asked.

"I have a better idea," Senator Arnold said. "Let's go after all these

goddamned right-wing Republican reactionary writers of paperback pulp

that have been belittling this administration."

"Oh, good show!" Representative Fox said.

"Right!" VP Hooter said. "Especially that right-wing, gun-loving,

Republican bastard Ben Raines!"

Federal agents and agencies began putting the squeeze on any writer who

dared question the administration's policies. Several adventure writers

were shot to death, "resisting arrest," according to the field reports

of the federal agents. But that tactic quickly backfired. Much to

Blanton's surprise, the ACLU took the side of the writers and started

filing lawsuits, even though many of the writers despised the ACLU and

told them so bluntly.

Blanton called off his two-legged federal Dober-mans.

Then federal taxes went up again, thanks to the likes of representatives

and senators like Rufus Dumkowski, I. M. Holey, Wiley Ferret, Immaculate

Crapums, Zip-porah Washington, and men and women of equally liberal ilk.

But their reign was, thankfully, short-lived. A third party was formed,

and their candidate took much needed votes away from the Republican

candidate, and the nation once more had a minority-elected president.

Shortly after Blanton was elected to a second

12

term, the whole world blew apart in war. Within a few days of limited

nuclear and germ warfare, there was not a stable government left intact

anywhere on the face of the earth . . . especially in what had once been

called the United States.

Which suited Ben Raines just fine.

The long years of combat take their toll on even the toughest men and

women, and those who fought in the Rebel army were no different. Some of

the men and women who had been with Ben the longest were through

campaigning. They would never stop being Rebels, but they would not

embark on this Canadian campaign against General Nick Stafford, a.k.a.

Paul Revere. Those men and women-who for whatever reason-had elected to

stay behind would train new recruits, join the Home Guard, raise

families, and be good citizens of the Southern United States of America.

Ben had spent months revamping and realigning his armed forces. His air

force was small but lethal, flying a variety of planes, mostly reworked

and highly modified prop jobs. His attack helicopters were the fastest,

deadliest, and most heavily armed of any choppers in the world.

Ben was fond of saying: "There might be larger armies in the world, but

when it comes to mean, the Rebel army takes the prize hands down."

He was right. When it came to mean, there wasn't an army on the face of

the earth that came anywhere near the capabilities of the Rebels. Each

Rebel was

13

trained in a dozen different schools by instructors who were experts in

the dirtiest, most savage, low-down mad-dog mean fighting tactics known

anywhere. The Rebels were all jump-qualified. They could climb

mountains, live in the swamps, jungles, deserts, or timber, drive a dog

sled, and strike from land, sea, or air. Each was qualified with dozens

of weapons, from crossbow to machine gun.

There was a good reason for the readiness and willingness of the Rebels:

The SUSA was their home. They believed in the Southern United States of

America, they believed in the concepts set forth by Ben Raines, and they

believed in Ben Raines.

Many of the Rebels were too young to really remember when liberals took

command of the government and began what many Americans believed was

their unconstitutional legislative rampage toward total control of every

aspect of every American's life, from cradle to grave. But many Rebels

were old enough to recall the insidious takeover, and they vowed never

again to return to that form of government. They would die first-and

many had over the bloody years since worldwide collapse and the

formation of the Rebel army. Thousands had died fighting for the Rebel

cause. But for every one that died, three stepped forward to take their

place, thus ensuring that the Rebel dream would never die.

Many people believed, and liberals fervently prayed, that Ben Raines

would never live long enough to see his dream come true. But Ben Raines

proved very hard to kill and the Rebel concept of government even harder

to destroy. Both survived and flourished, and

14

William W. Johnstone

the Southern United States of America was built out of the ashes of war

and over the wild, ranting objections of the nation's liberals.

What many fair-minded people could never understand was why liberals

despised Ben Raines. For even though Ben was hard-line in some areas of

his philosophy, he was more liberal than a liberal in many others.

People who came into the SUSA with some trepidation soon discovered that

living in the SUSA was much easier and simpler than living outside of it.

In the SUSA law-abiding citizens had almost complete control over their

lives and destinies, with very little government interference. The

average life expectancy of a criminal in the SUSA was about an hour, for

the SUSA-which took in the states of Texas, Oklahoma, Louisiana,

Arkansas, Mississippi, Tennessee, North and South Carolina, Alabama,

Georgia, and Florida-was an armed camp. In the SUSA a citizen had the

right to protect self, family, pets, and property by any means at hand,

including deadly force, without fear of criminal prosecution or civil

lawsuit by the dead punk's family. Consequently there was no crime.

None. It just wasn't tolerated. The same thing could have been done

years before when the United States was whole, but the liberals wouldn't

permit it. Ben Raines had always believed that liberals placed more

value on the lives of punks than they did on the lives of decent,

tax-paying, law-abiding citizens. Within the borders of the SUSA, it was

decidedly the other way around, which didn't take the criminal element

long to discover.

Lawyers who came into the SUSA learned quickly

15

that legal mumbo jumbo didn't cut it there. Everything was

straightforward and aboveboard, spelled out plain and simple. Medical

attention was free and offered to all residents. People who once clogged

emergency rooms with bullshit ailments quickly learned not to do so in

the SUSA. Ben Raines set up aid-stations all over the SUSA for the

treatment of minor injuries, and no town was without medical facilities.

Ben destroyed hundreds of smaller towns in the SUSA and pulled people

into workable-sized communities-not so large that a person could get

lost and not so small that a person could not have privacy. There were

many very good reasons for that, one of which was that they were easily

defended.

Ben began destroying the cities and bulldozing the rubble. There were no

slums in the SUSA. There was not a neighborhood in any town that was not

safe to walk in at any time of the day or night. It was not that

difficult to accomplish-Ben just got rid of the people whose propensity

was toward breaking the law.

In the SUSA the educational system was the finest in the world, with

emphasis on learning. Verbal and physical attacks on teachers were

nonexistent because kids were taught at home to respect their elders,

and teachers led exemplary lives, on and off campus. Kids had ten hours

of hard physical exercise each week, and games were intramural, with

emphasis placed on teamwork.

Everybody over fifteen and under sixty who lived in the SUSA was in the

army. Everybody. If people didn't like that, they got out of the SUSA.

Some military unit, somewhere within the eleven states, was in training at

16

William W. Johnstone

all times. Hundreds of thousands of people, men and women, were fully

trained and combat ready.

Many of President Blanton's senior people had left him, opting to live

and work in the SUSA, and Blanton was decidedly shorthanded when it came

to people with any degree of common sense. Dick Penny had left him and

sought asylum in the SUSA. Ben immediately named the career diplomat as

secretary of state. Senator Hanrahan, a reconstructed liberal, and

several more senior people had left Blanton's administration and joined

the growing number of people in the SUSA-Blush lightheart included. His

decision had come when Rita Rivers insisted upon replacing "The

Star-Spangled Banner" with "God Bless America." Blush had no objection

to "God Bless America" ... but not sung in Rap.

Visitors were amazed at the number of minorities who chose to live in

the SUSA. Cecil Jefferys, a black man who had been overwhelmingly

elected as president of the SUSA, cleared that right up.

"Black people are beginning to realize that here is the only place they

can truly get a fair shake if they are willing to conform and work

hard-expecting no free rides or handouts. Racism isn't tolerated here.

From either side of the color line. Liberalism didn't help the blacks.

It made too many excuses when the black man needed equal footing, not a

pat on the head or the bending of laws. Here the law applies equally to

all, probably for the first time in the history of the world. In the

SUSA skill and the ability to get along with others is what gets you a

job and keeps you working, not color."

19

17

"President Jefferys is a white man's nigger," Rita Rivers was fond of

saying to President Blanton.

President Blanton had to resist the temptation to tell the woman to get

fucked. Last time he said that to her, she offered to take him on.

Blanton shuddered at the thought.

20 Oac

21

Ben walked the long, seemingly endless lines of Rebels. Battalion after

battalion of Rebels stretched out before him-and these were the ground

troops. The MBTs and Dusters had long since departed the SUSA for the

north, transported by Lo-Boys. Tanker trucks filled with diesel and

gasoline stretched out for miles and rolled day and night toward the north.

Dan Gray's 3 Battalion, Georgi Striganov's 5 Battalion, Jackie Malone

and her 12 Battalion, and Ben's son, Buddy, and his special operations

group were already on the ground in Maine at the staging area.

Ben was filled with a strange mixture of pride and sadness as he passed

in front of the long full ranks of Rebels. There was a time when he knew

the name of every Rebel. No more. Now there were thousands and thousands

of dedicated men and women ready to give their lives at Ben's command.

It was an awesome feeling, and Ben had never been entirely comfortable

with it.

Ben's personal bodyguard, the lovely, diminutive,

22

William W. Johnstone

and deadly Jersey, walked a couple of steps behind him, her M-16 at the

ready. Ben saluted his batt corns as he passed.

"Ike, you old bastard," Ben called in a stage whisper to his longtime

friend, a former Navy SEAL and commander of 2 Battalion. "You ought to

be in a rocking chair."

"Screw you, Ben," Ike returned the stage whisper. "You're older than I

am, you old goat."

Both men were middle-aged.

Ben laughed and kept walking.

Ben returned the salute of the mercenary, West. "Ready to go, Colonel?"

"As always, Ben," West called. West's 4 Battalion was made up

exclusively of mercenaries who had come over to the Rebel side. To say

they were mean dirty fighters would be a clear understatement.

Ben gave a thumb's up to Rebet, commander of 6 Battalion, and returned

the salute from the French-Canadian, Danjou, commander of 7 Battalion.

He winked at his daughter, Tina, who was in command of 9 Battalion. Pat

O'Shea, commander of 10 Battalion, gave him a salute that was

indescribable at best. Ben laughed and waved at Greenwalt, commander of

11 Battalion. Raul Gomez, commander of 13 Battalion, snapped to and Ben

returned the crisp salute. Jim Peters, whose 14 Battalion was filled

with men from the New Texas Rangers, saluted as he walked past. Buck

Taylor was the new CO of 15, Mike Post CO of 16, and Paul Harrison the

CO of 17 Battalion.

Ben walked back to the center of the huge parade

23

field, where his personal team was waiting: Beth, the record keeper and

the person who kept the team running; Cooper, the wisecracking driver;

Corrie, the radio operator.

There was nothing left to say. Everything had been said the afternoon

before this dawn. Every Rebel had said his goodbyes to family and

friends. Many would not be coming back except in body bags-whenever that

was possible-providing all the pieces could be found. Many others would

be buried in lonely graves in faraway places-lonely but never forgotten

by the men and women who served with them.

Ben looked at Corrie. "Mount 'em up, Corrie."

Some of the Rebels went to trucks for the long ride north, others would

be off-loaded at waiting planes at the airport. Thirteen thousand men

and women heading north to join four thousand more at the staging area

in Maine.

"You want me to have communications radio Blan-ton that we're moving?"

Corrie asked.

Ben shook his head. "He'll know it soon enough. He may be a liberal, but

he's not a fool."

The team members exchanged glances, and Ben caught them and smiled but

said nothing. It was highly unlikely that any resident of the SUSA would

have anything good to say about President Homer Blan-ton-for they knew

that even though Blanton had officially recognized the SUSA as a

separate and sovereign nation, and had signed treaties, Blanton and

those in his administration hated Ben Raines and anything, everything,

and anybody associated with the Southern United States of America. They

were also well aware

24

William W. Johnstone

that given the slightest opportunity, Blanton would destroy the SUSA if

he thought he could.

But as Ben had just said, Blanton was no fool. He knew that Ben Raines

had nuclear weapons, and many of them were pointed directly at

Charleston, West Virginia, the new capital of the United States. Blanton

was also very much aware that another president a few years back had

tried to destroy Ben and his Rebels. Ben had sent K-teams out after that

president and his close associates and killed them all.

Homer Blanton reckoned that General Raines was about the meanest son of

a bitch he had ever encountered.

Ben stopped by his house for a moment to play with his dogs and say

goodbye to them . . . for he did not know if he would ever see any of

them again. His husky, Smoot, would not be going on this trip.

There was no woman in Ben's life. Not lately. Ben was certainly not

celibate, for there were women he visited from time to time to "take the

edge off," as Jersey put it. But since Jerre had died, Ben had been

unable to sustain a relationship more than a few months.*

"They'll be well taken of, General," one of a group of Rebels standing

in the yard told him as he was leaving.

Ben nodded and kept on walking, trying to ignore the frantic and

sorrow-filled barking coming from his pets. He got into his Hummer and

told Coop, "Go!"

Late that afternoon, Ben and his team stepped off

?SURVIVAL IN THE ASHES-Zebra Books.

25

the plane in Augusta, Maine, and were met by Colonel Dan Gray.

"Everything quiet up here, Dan?"

The Englishman smiled. "Except for our occasional forays across the

border into Canada to harass Re-vere's troops, yes."

"Buddy?"

"He's up there now with some of his special ops people. As a matter of

fact, he's rather deep into enemy territory. He just reported this morning."

Ben started to say that he hadn't given any orders for any of his people

to cross borders. Dan anticipated that and held up a hand.

"Revere's troops crossed over first and attacked us at our listening

posts, Ben. They hit us five times at five different locations before I

gave the orders to cross and pursue."

"Fair enough, Dan. The bridges still intact across the Saint John?"

"Surprisingly, yes. Plans, Ben?"

"We start our move into Quebec day after tomorrow. I want to give Buddy

time to get into place. Let's go to your CP, I want to look at some maps."

In the command post Ben shook hands with Georgi Striganov and Jackie

Malone, then studied the maps of Revere's strongest points for a time.

William W Johnstone - Ashes 20 - D Day in the Ashes (txt)

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