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liberty." He smiled. "And broads." He looked back at the faithful who
had accompanied him; about thirty men and women who knew exactly what
Emil was all about but liked him anyway.
Emil marched up to an official-looking person who was carrying a
clipboard and said, "I am Colonel (he wasn't) Emil Hite, commander of
the Blomm Brigade (no such outfit) of Raines's Rebels. I must get to
France. General Raines needs me." (About like a head cold.)
The elderly Englishman gave Emil a thorough going-over, from boots to
beret, taking in all the medals and ribbons Emil had pinned on his
uniform, which ranged from the Burma Campaign of World War Two to
Vietnam, and covered every inch of fabric from waist to neck and both
sides of the jacket.
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"My word!" the dock-master said. He pointed with his walking stick to a
ship down the way. "She'll be sailing with the tide. You can board anytime."
Emil turned to his group. "Come, warriors. Forward into the fray. I can
assure you all that General Raines will be so overcome with emotion when
he sees us, he will be rendered incapable of speech."
More than a modicum of truth in that statement.
The captain of the ship, a sturdy Scotsman and a veteran of dozens of
trans-Atlantic crossings, and a
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survivor, stood on the bridge and watched the strange collection of men
and women march up the gangway and board his ship. He had never seen
anything quite like them. He turned to his first mate.
"They must be some sort of secret weapon General Raines plans to use.
Although I can't possibly imagine how."
The trip from Southhampton to Le Havre was uneventful, except for the
captain having to retreat to his quarters with a splitting headache
after listening to Emil talk for fifteen minutes.
"God is on our side," Emil said to the first mate.
"I certainly hope so," the first mate replied, then hid in a lifeboat
for the remainder of the crossing.
On shore Emil commandeered several trucks, and after getting lost
fifteen times, managed to reach Ben's CP about an hour before dark. The
Rebels in the area saw him coming, and most managed to make themselves
scarce. But they forgot to warn Ben, who was busy going over maps in the
house.
A Rebel on the porch saw Emil coming and dropped a sandwich on the floor
in his haste to get away. Emil leaped up onto the porch and stepped
right into the peanut butter and jelly. He went slipping and sliding and
flailing his arms through the open front door and into the main room,
his antics resembling a cross between the frug and country line dancing.
Jersey had gotten up to see what the commotion was all about, and Emil
ran into her and knocked her flat on the floor.
"Goddamnit!" Jersey hollered.
Kathy Bonham, not knowing what this human Tas-
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manian devil was, just barely managed to get out of Emil's way.
Emil unintentionally bugalooed across the room and landed on top of
Ben's desk, sending maps, notes, a mug of coffee, and Ben's fresh-baked
piece of apple pie to the floor.
"Lafayette!" Emil cried, nose to nose with Ben. "I am here!"
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"France might never recover from this," Ben said. He cut his eyes to
Cooper, who was trying to keep Jersey from shooting Emil.
Ben had no choice but to assign Emil and his group to his own 1 Batt.
That was the only way he knew to keep Emil out of trouble. There was
another reason for that decision: Emil was scared to death of Jersey.
The little bodyguard had threatened to shoot him more than once. As long
as Jersey was around-and she was always around Ben-Emil was on his best
behavior, which wasn't anything to write home about, but it was better
than the norm.
"What will you do with him?" Kathy asked, the morning after Emil's arrival.
"Believe it or not, Emil and his bunch have turned into tough little
fighters," Ben said with a smile. "Not that it was that way at the
beginning." He laughed at some old prank of Emil's. "Once you learn to
accept his rather unorthodox ways, he's really quite likeable."
"He's a prick," Jersey said, from across the room. "Why don't you send
him back to Thermopolis?"
Ben thought about that for a moment. "I have a better idea. Why don't we
bring Thermoplis over here?"
169 Thermopolis jumped at the chance. He and his crew had, at first,
thought they would like to stay home and run listening posts. But Ben
had guessed the other way. Combat is infectious. For many it produces a
high unlike anything else. Besides, Thermopolis liked Emil and could
control him.
"And bring Smoot with you," Ben concluded the broadcast.
Thermopolis and his crew would fly down to Ben's home, get Ben's husky,
Smoot, and then fly out of the East Coast on a transport.
"You're full of surprises, Ben," Kathy said. "I didn't know you liked dogs."
"I don't particularly care for people who don't like dogs," Ben replied.
"And I have been known to shoot people who abuse any type of animal."
She fixed serious eyes on him. "You are kidding. Aren't you?"
"Nope. People who abuse animals are sorry excuses for human beings. I
don't want them around me, and I won't tolerate them around me."
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"You are a complex person, Ben Raines."
"A lot of people think that's so. But it isn't really true. Animals
can't help being what they are. Humans can. It's just that simple."
"You really haven't killed a person for abusing an animal, have you, Ben?"
He didn't have to vocalize a reply. The bleak look in his eyes spoke
volumes.
Ben let the punks and the creeps and self-styled warlords stew for a
time while he waited for Ther-mopolis and his bunch to arrive and take
over keeping track of supplies and routes and battalion positions and
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all the other tedious things that Ben hated and Therm was so good
at-actually it was his wife, Rosebud, but she gave her husband the credit.
When the big transport landed, Smoot jumped off and didn't even take
time to pee before she leaped into Ben's arms and both of them went
rolling around on the tarmac. Smoot had grown into an eighty-five-pound
husky. Thankfully, she was, like many of her breed, an easygoing, good
natured dog. But Smoot had a very respectable set of teeth, and when
angered, she could be quite formidable.
Kathy watched with amusement as Ben played with Smoot, the husky clearly
the winner as she knocked Ben down several times roughhousing.
Thermopolis finally broke it up, and he and Ben shook hands.
"Good to have you back, Therm."
"Good to be back, Ben. When do we push off?"
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"I figure it'll take you seventy-two hours to get organized. In a few days."
"Good enough. Let's get to work."
The Rebels were glad to see Therm and his bunch return to their ranks,
for the hippies turned warriors were well liked. They preferred to
handle the tedious jobs that most others detested, but could turn into
vicious fighters when pressed into service.
Duffy Williams and his thousands of malcontents had waited behind their
guns while the Rebels shifted around and made ready for an all-out
attack . . . but they had not done so patiently. The waiting was getting
to them. They were growing increasingly short-tempered and hard to
handle as the weather began turning cooler and the nights were becoming
downright cold.
Duffy was now beginning to fully grasp the enormity of keeping a large [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]