William W Johnstone - Ashes 22 - Chaos in the Ashes (txt)

FOILED AGAIN

Ben's ruthlessness shocked Jethro Musseldine. Up until the assault on

Little Rock, he had not known just how well-equipped the Rebels were.

Now he knew. He had lost nearly a third of his army in Little Rock.

Something had to be done to stop the rampaging of Ben Raines. The man

was so ... godless.

At Russelville, Arkansas, Musseldine made up his mind. He ordered his

columns halted. "We shall fight the many-headed beast here," he

announced. "We'll force the Great Satan to meet us mano a mano!"

Then he had to explain to his true believers exactly what that meant,

for many of his followers weren't too swift when it came to gray matter.

"This will be the end of Ben Raines," Musseldine shouted to his

wild-eyed followers. "This will be Ben Raines's last stand in America . . ."

Uh-huh. Yeah. Right.

When Ben heard that, he was reminded of that old joke about Custer's

last thoughts: Holy cow, where'd all these Indians come from'?

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3

William W. Johnstone

PINNACLE BOOKS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

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4 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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events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

PINNACLE BOOKS are published by

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excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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Pinnacle and the P logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off. First Printing:

November, 1996 Printed in the United States of America 10 98765432

5 Prologue

During the final days of the second millennium, the end came. It had

been predicted; some even planned for it. Most didn't. Those who did

plan were called survivalists-some were called militia-and they were

much maligned by the press and by the government. The left-leaning

liberal press belittled them and the very government to whom they were

paying taxes portrayed them as evil, racist, and dangerous. A few were

just that, but not most. The majority of those who practiced survivalism

and who joined militias were decent men and women who had simply grown

disgusted with big government. They were wolves, making plans to

survive, while others around them were dewy-eyed lambs unknowingly

waiting for the slaughter, despite the fact that they had been warned

time and again that the lid was about to blow off. The lambs stood with

their hands out, waiting for the government to run their lives, tell

them what to do and when to do it, and give them

6

something for nothing-paid for with tax-payers' money, of course.

Many survivalist groups were harassed by federal agents and vindictively

punished. People were killed by federal agents; others watched as their

possessions were seized or destroyed by agents of the federal

government. But the movement could not be broken. It grew as the end

approached, as did the hatred and fear many in the government and the

press felt for the men and women who made up the various groups around

the nation.

When the end came-and it was the end of civilization and order and

reason world-wide-training and discipline saved many of the

survivalists, or Constitutionalists, as many preferred to be called.

One of the quiet survivalists was a man called Ben Raines.

Ben belonged to no organized group, although federal agents had for

years tried to prove he did. Like most Constitutionalists, he owned no

illegal weapons, paid his taxes, obeyed the law, and lived a quiet and

peaceful life. Because of his so-called radical views, he did receive

the occasional visit from the feds, but like many other Americans who

longed for a return to the true meaning of the constitution and a

commonsense form of government, Ben learned to live with the creeping

socialism and the uninvited intrusions into his privacy. However, he

didn't have to like it and was quite vocal in his opposition of it.

That got Ben's name on the list compiled by federal enforcement

agencies; the list containing the names of

7

Americans who had broken no laws but needed watching anyway.*

Real red, white, and blue democracy at work.

But in the end, the prying and the snooping didn't do the feds a bit of

good . .. the whole goddamn world fell apart.

And it was the Constitutionalists and the Survivalists who convinced Ben

Raines that he should be the one to lead the nation out of the ashes of

destruction and chaos.

Ben reluctantly agreed, with conditions attached: the new government

would bear little resemblance to the old government, for the old

government had stopped working. It worked for many years, until Congress

started screwing around with the Constitution and passing so many laws

the average tax-paying citizens didn't have a clue as to what was going on.

It would not be that way in the new government.

The new government, at first, would be called the Tri-States.

Unlike the old government, the Tri-States would not attempt to be all

things to all people all the time. That was and is impossible in a true

democracy. Consitution-alists and Survivalists know that, to a very

large degree, we all control our own destinies-or should. The government

need not get involved, and in the Tri-States, the government would not

get involved.

Ben Raines laid the groundwork for the new, common-sense government.

When a society is based on common sense, there really isn't much need

for lawyers.

*Author's note: that list does indeed exist.

8

William W.Johnstone

In North America, when the end came, the ratio was something like one

lawyer for every three hundred and ninety people-the highest in the

world! The Tri-States had lawyers, of course, but the beauty of the

Tri-States is that there aren't that many laws.

A common sense society means that if someone breaks into my house and I

catch them at it, I am going to shoot them on the spot. And after I

shoot them, I won't be arrested, won't be tried, won't go to jail, and

can't be sued by the thief s family or by the thief, should he or she

survive.

A common sense society means that if you buy an over-the-counter drug

and eat the whole damn package and fall over dead, the manufacturer and

the druggist can't be held liable for your stupidity.

A common sense society means that if someone gets drunk and has a wreck

and kills himself and a whole bunch of other people, the families of the

survivors can't sue the beer company or the person who sold the

irresponsible nincompoop the beer. (It's called controlling one's own

destiny.)

It takes a special type of person to live in a society based on common

sense. It takes a person who has respect for the rights of others. For

all the rights of others, regardless of race or religion or creed.

Ben Raines figured, and calculated correctly, that only two or three out

of every ten Americans who survived the Great War could prosper and

enjoy life in a free society. It was a radical change from the old form

of government, where the government was constantly interfering in

everybody's business, with new rules and regulations and complicated

paperwork.

In the Tri-States, crime was virtually non-existent. The

9

main reason being, it just wasn't tolerated. In the Tri-States, not only

was carrying weapons allowed, each citizen was required to have weapons,

for everyone of age was a part of the Rebel Army. Once the government

outside the Tri-States crawled to its knees and again started screwing

around in the lives of its citizens, the press called the Tri-States a

gun-powder society. As in so many cases, the press was only half right.

The people who chose to live in the Tri-States did so willingly and

happily. They were people who did not have to lock the doors to their

homes at night or take the keys out of their car or live in fear of

being mugged or assaulted. Any street in any town in the Tri-States was

safe to walk upon any time of the day or night. There were no slums, no

gangs, no drive-by shootings. There was full employment. In the

Tri-States, everybody who was able worked. Or got out. There were no

free rides. The old and the young and the infirm were cared for with the

utmost compassion. Values and respect and morals were taught in school.

In the Tri-States, morality was once more in vogue. Teenage pregnancies

were rare and it wasn't due to schools handing out condoms to young

people. That came about by like-minded parents and educators teaching

children values and self-respect, beginning at a very early age. Reading

was emphasized in the Tri-States.

Civil liberties types were appalled at what was going on in the

Tri-States. It was such a quiet and happy place. Something must be wrong

with a society where everybody is contented. Life isn't supposed to be

that way. You're supposed to have discontent and dissent and troubles

and woes and personal analysts and psychiatrists and head manipulators

and so forth. Something must be

10

William W. Johnstone

drastically wrong with a society that wasn't wallowing in a plethora of

misery.

Why are these people smiling?

Because they're happy, stupid!

But the government of the former United States of America just couldn't

tolerate the contentment that was found in the Tri-States, and

eventually moved against the society, finally over-running the residents

of the Tri-States with sheer force of numbers. The main objective was to

kill Ben Raines.

But Ben Raines was as hard to kill as the Tri-States philosophy.

After the fall of the Tri-States, Ben rebuilt his army of Rebels and

moved against the government of the (once) United States; a government

that had begun to turn on its citizens again, becoming everything that

the old Tri-States was not; becoming exactly what it was before the

Great War that nearly destroyed the world.

Ben and his Rebels began claiming territory out of the ashes of defeat

and despair and destruction. First it was a small area called Base Camp

One. Then it grew, until finally thirteen states adopted the philosophy

of the old Tri-States.

The central government of what used to be known as the United States of

America finally capitulated and held out the hand of peace to Ben and

his Rebels.

Ben accepted the hand of friendship and cooperation and the two nations

within a nation began working together ... as much as liberal and

conservative can ever work together.

But for years before the Great War, many people in America had been

conditioned to expect the govern-

13

11

ment to do nearly everything for them, including thinking.

All this freedom scared them.

What the hell do you mean, we control our own destinies'? What the hell

do you mean, tellin' me I have to work at a job I don't like? What is

this common sense crap? I got a right, man. What do you mean, turn down

my radio? I'll play my radio as loud as I want to. Screw you.

On the other side of the coin, there were those blue-lipped,

narrow-minded types who simply could not tolerate any type of open

society. If they didn't like it, you couldn't have it. Didn't matter if

they lived in New York and you lived in Montana, they knew best. Period.

You may not read this book because we consider it nasty. You may not

have an abortion because we don't think it's right. You may not own a

gun because we are opposed to that. Like-minded people may not band

together and form their own government because we won't let you.

(However, we are perfectly within our rights to force our views on you.)

On and on and on.

Gimme some money! Gimme a free ride! Gimme food! Take care of me from

the womb to the tomb or we'll riot and burn and destroy.

Eventually, that's what happened.

And like Humpty Dumpty, it could not be put back together again.

14 Book One

If it be the pleasure of Heaven that my country shall require the poor

offering of my life, the victim shall be ready, at the appointed hour of

sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do live, let me have a

country, and that a free country.

-John Adams

15

Ben was glad when he could no longer see the smoke from the fires of

discontent. The big transport plane had entered Rebel-controlled

territory. For hundreds of miles, the scene had been even worse than

Cecil had described.

"We should never have left the country," Ben muttered. "I went against

my own philosophy."

But he knew that even had he stayed, he could not have changed the

course of events.

Ben dozed off and was awakened by the pilot's voice. "We'll be landing

in about twenty minutes, General. The airport is secure."

"Landing into what?" Ben whispered.

Chaos. Rebellion. Upheaval. Mindless acts of violence and destruction.

Civil war. Mobs of people running amok, after having reverted back to

barbarism. Burning and looting and killing and raping. White against black.

16

William W. Johnstone

Black against white. White against white. Black against black. Senseless

brutality involving all races.

"Everything we fought for, destroyed," Ben whispered. "The nation in ruins."

Again.

Back to the ashes.

Ben looked at his reflection in the window. His hair was streaked with

gray. He was middle-aged and, for a man his age, in superb physical

condition-but now, for the moment, he felt old.

As the plane slowly descended, Ben allowed himself to wallow, briefly,

in self-pity, something he almost never did. His personal team, Jersey,

Corrie, Beth, Cooper, and the teenage girl he had adopted while in

Europe, Anna, sat away from him. They knew that when Ben was in a lousy

mood-as he was now and had been ever since receiving the communique from

Cecil-it was best to leave him alone.

Ben's plane was the first one down, a dozen other huge transports coming

in right behind his. Ben stood up and stretched the kinks out of his

muscles and joints and deplaned. He spotted Cecil Jefferys standing on

the edge of the tarmac and walked over to him. The men stood in silence

for a moment, content to look at each other, as good and old friends

will do. Ben had to struggle to hide his shock at Cecil's appearance.

The black man's hair was now completely white, his face deeply lined.

Cecil put out his big hands and gripped Ben's shoulders in an unusual

display of affection. "God, but it's good to see you, Ben."

"Same here, Cec."

17

"I've got a fresh pot of coffee, some food. We'll talk while we eat.

Come on."

In a private room off the main terminal building in what had once been a

major American airport, the men sat and talked and ate.

"What happened, Cec?"

"The whole damned countryjustfell apart, Ben. With practically no warning."

"President Blanton?"

Cec shook his head. "We don't know where he is. We don't know if he's

alive or dead or hurt or what. We do know that most of his staff, his

inner circle, are dead. We think he and his wife might have made it out.

But we don't know for sure."

"The new capital?"

"In a shambles. Taken over by malcontents. It's bad, Ben. Real bad.

We've lost about two thirds of the SUSA, including the old Base Camp

One. But we deactivated the missiles there before we pulled out. They

can't be launched. I doubt if these idiots can even find the silos, much

less get into them. In all our years of war, Ben, I have neverseen

anything to equal this. The slackers, the malcontents, the

give-me-something-for-nothing bunch, and all the rest must have been

planning this for months-maybe years. And they've got some real brains

behind this movement."

"Sure they have," Ben said sarcastically. "All those ultra-liberals we

read the riot act to several years back. I should have seen this coming."

Cecil stared at him for a moment. "Ben, do you really believe . . . ?"

"I damn sure do."

"But Blanton was one of them!"

18

William W. Johnstone

"Was is the key word, Cec. He changed. He and I became friends. Friends

as much as we ever could be. Certain members of his old party just

couldn't take that." Ben shook his head. "I should have seen this coming."

"Oh, hell, Ben! Nobody could have seen this coming. We've got the best

intelligence network in the world, and we didn't see it coming. If what

you're saying is true, then the old ultra-liberal wing of Blanton's

party just sacrificed God only knows how many thousands of people."

"They don't care about that. To them, the end justifies the means. They

want back in power. They don't give a damn how that comes to be."

"That's monstrous!"

"Yes, it certainly is. I preached for years that liberals were a greater

threat to individual freedom than communism. Now tell me what happened."

Cecil drained his coffee mug and sighed. "People began peacefully

gathering along our borders. One day there were five thousand, the next

day a hundred thousand, the next day half a million. Then they started

pouring across and rioting and looting. They came across our borders in

human waves, thousands and thousands of men and women and children.

Hell, Ben, we couldn't open fire on unarmed civilians and little kids.

We used rubber bullets and gas but they kept coming; our people were

overwhelmed by the solid crush of humanity. We were spread thin as it

was and the rioters broke through in dozens of places and began

circling, trying to trap our people. But now they had weapons-"

"Carefully planned out, wasn't it?"

"It damn sure was. Communications became impossi-

19

ble. Our people had to keep falling back, fighting a rear-guard action

over hundreds of miles of border. All this happened in a day, Ben-one

day. Blanton's military was trying to contain the rioters in their

territory, but they were spread much thinner than we and were quickly

overwhelmed. Once the rioters became armed, we started using deadly

force. Our field reports show that we killed probably twenty-five

thousand rioters and wounded that many more before we were finally able

to stand and hold."

Ben sighed and nodded his understanding. "I'm leaving a token force in

Europe. Bringing the rest of them home. But it's going to be weeks

before we have all of our equipment back Stateside. We're just going to

have to do the best we can until then." Ben smiled. "Hell, Cec, we've

fought worse odds."

Cecil leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. "Jesus, ol' buddy,

I'm tired." Then he smiled and it was the old Cecil once more. "I've

been out of the field for a long time. I don't see how you do it."

Ben returned the smile. "For the most part, I've never left the field.

That's how I do it."

Cecil cut his eyes to Jersey, Ben's bodyguard, standing silently by the

door. The diminutive Jersey, all five feet of her, was as lethal as a

spitting cobra. Trained in martial arts, she could kill with her hands,

as well as being expert with gun, knife, or garrote. Everyone knew she

was in love with Ben, but it was a love that was not to be, and Jersey

knew and accepted that.

"I hate to hit you with this, Ben ... I know it's early. But what's the

agenda?"

Ben looked down at the map before him; the territory the Rebels had lost

was highlighted, and it was huge.

20

William W. Johnstone

"We start reclaiming our territory. Slow and easy. But this time we're

going to be fighting a political war as well as a fire-fight. I hate to

use the term, but we're going to have to win the hearts and minds-"

Cecil groaned and Ben laughed. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

Cecil said, "I don't believe these people we'll be fighting, many of

them, even want a government, Ben."

"Maybe so. But this nation can't exist without some form of government.

We certainly can't have anarchy. And the liberals don't want that either

... in the long run. But for now they're using anarchy for their own

gain. We have a government, Cec. As long as there are people working

together to make something better, to pull something useful out of the

ashes, we have a government. But when we start our push, we're going to

take it easy. We're going to talk to the people and listen to what they

have to say. That's something that hasn't really happened since town

meetings went out of style. Maybe we'll never be able to put this

country back together again. Maybe we'll die as old men trying to do it.

Maybe we'll die tomorrow trying to do it. But we've got to try. It can't

be business as usual. We did something wrong, Cec. Blanton did something

wrong. But our basic Tri-States philosophy works; we proved that. At

least it works for us. But how about the millions of people who say they

can't live under that type of open government? What about them? Is it

that they can't live under our rules, or that they won't live under

them? We won't be able to solve the problem until we understand it."

Cecil stared at him for a moment, then chuckled. The laughter took years

from the man. "What is this, a new Ben Raines?"

21

"In a way, perhaps it is. Might be better, might be worse. We'll just

have to see." He looked over at Jersey. "What do you have to say about

it, Little Bit?"

"Well, the way I see it, we're going to kick them in the ass and then

extend a hand to help them up."

Ben laughed. "That about sums it up. Now let's go see if it works."

22

The transports never stopped except for maintenance. As the days drifted

slowly into weeks, the Rebel battalions were gathering strength, back on

American soil. Still Ben made no moves against those malcontents who now

controlled-or thought they did-much of what used to be called the

Southern United States of America. The SUSA. He would not move until he

was up to full strength.

Ben had left three battalions in Europe for a time, to assist and advise

the growing European forces: Batts 21, 16, and 17. He pulled everyone

else back to the States.

Ships began docking at safe ports, unloading thousands of tons of

equipment, including tanks and Hummers and helicopter gun ships and the

souped-up P-51s that made up much of Ben's air force.

Ben was almost ready to move.

Ike McGowan's 2 Batt was the last one to leave Europe.

23

When the ex-SEAL's ship docked, a plane was ready to take him to Ben's

HQ, now located in what used to be known as Alabama.

After shaking hands, the two men poured mugs of coffee and got down to

business. "Is it as bad as the reports I've been getting, Ben?"

"Worse, Ike. We've got a lot of territory to reclaim. And it's going to

be a nasty business. We're up against hundreds of thousands of

malcontents-for want of a better word-and we've got fifteen battalions

to do it with. We've got the Gulf to our south, the Atlantic to the

east, and facing the enemy west and north. I've made contact with some

of their leaders, but they refuse to negotiate any terms. No compromise.

For one of the few times in my life, I'm willing to compromise and bend

some, to prevent blood-shed, and the enemy won't hear of it."

"So we start kicking ass and taking names, right?"

Ben sighed. Ike could see that he was clearly troubled. "It's not that

simple any more. I wish it was. But I can't go in and start killing

kids. The malcontents know that. I wish I could think of a better word

than that, for malcontent just doesn't fit many of these people. I am

firmly convinced that many are really good, decent people . . . solidly

opposed to the Tri-States philosophy."

"But they are also people who won't practice live and let live, Ben,"

Ike said softly.

William W Johnstone - Ashes 22 - Chaos in the Ashes (txt)

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