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proudly. "I was with the first bunch out in the northwest. One of the
last of the original Tri-Staters." He tapped his leg with his cane.
"Lost my left leg during the assault by Federals." His smile faded. "And
lost my wife during the last fight here, when we were overrun with
punks. But I damn sure killed my share of those rotten bastards, and
I'll do it again if the Feds get this far in. Bet on it."
The crowd broke up shortly after that until it was just Ben and the
college professor left sitting on benches. Ben smiled at the man.
"Afternoon, professor."
The professor returned the smile. "General Raines. Good to see you
again. How goes the war?"
"So far, so good. I suppose you've heard about Madam President
Osterman's hiring of mercenaries ... it seems to have spread like wildfire."
"I heard. It sickened me, but didn't surprise me. And I doubt it
surprised you."
"No. Not at all."
"We will win this conflict, won't we?"
"Oh, yes, we'll win. I don't know how much of the USA will be left
intact, but we'll win. Have no illusions about that."
"Do you think the SUSA will ever be allowed to exist in peace?"
"Someday, yes. But not in our lifetime." Ben rose from the bench and
held out his hand. The professor took it.
"Good luck to you, General Raines."
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"Same to you."
Ben and his team walked on. The professor sat alone on the park bench
and watched him walk away. "Someday," he whispered. "Someday."
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The final opinion among the brigade commanders was in, and their answers
came as no surprise to Ben: Invade the USA. Hit the USA hard and fast,
and take the war to their doorstep. Let them have a taste of it.
Mike Richards had just sent a terse message from Europe: Mercenaries on
their way. ETA, ten days.
"We can't get enough people up north in time to prevent their landing,"
Ben said. "The Feds have begun shifting some troops around in
anticipation of our trying that. So we won't even attempt it. Besides,
I'm not at all certain the meres are coming in by ship, or if they are,
if that's where they're docking. That information was just too easy to
come by. It's my opinion they'll be landing at various ports on both
coasts, as well as coming in by plane. I've delayed air strikes until we
learn for sure where the staging area will be."
Ben smiled with a savage curving of his lips and took a sip of water.
"When they do land, they're going to find
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their host country cut up into several pieces." Ben eye-balled each
brigade commander for a few seconds. "We go on the attack, people. Day
after tomorrow at 0600 hours. Move hard and fast. If it's in the way,
knock it down or burn it. 501st, 503rd, 505th, 507nd, and 509th brigades
will advance into USA territory. The others will spread out and hold.
You all know the drill. No point in wasting time going over covered
ground. Get back to your units. Good luck, people."
Ben shook hands and chatted briefly with each commander, a few moments
longer with his kids-Tina, commander of 509 Brigade, and Buddy,
commander of 508 Brigade.
"Get your bottom lip stuck back in, boy," Ben told his son with a smile.
"Stop pouting about not going in with us. Your people are going to be
busy holding what you've got."
"I am not pouting, Father!"
"Sure looks like it to me," Tina said, giving her brother a rude elbow
in the ribs.
Buddy sighed with great patience.
"I just got this, Boss," Corrie said, walking up holding a message pad.
"General Walter Berman has just been named commanding general of all
troops east of the Mississippi River. No word on who is commanding west
of the river."
"Berman is a mercenary," Ben mused. "That's a slap in the face to the
USA forces."
"They may have all stood down," Buddy suggested.
"Maybe," his father agreed, "but as soon as we enter USA space they'll
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be right back in it. They'll have no choice in the matter."
"There's more," Corrie said. "Berman has promised Osterman that he will
personally hunt you down and bring you in, dead or alive."
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"Very ambitious of him," Ben said. "I can't really say I wish him luck."
"I thought Osterman wanted you alive so she could publicly hang you,
Father," Buddy said.
"That order has been rescinded," Corrie told them. "And . . . ah, there
is more, too." She looked at the other team members as they quietly
gathered around.
"Let's have it, Corrie," Ben pressed. "Come on, how bad could be it?"
"It isn't good, Boss," Corrie replied.
"Well?" Ben stared at her.
"It happened just about an hour ago. The Feds were tipped off about the
location of some militia members in upstate New York. There was a raid
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