But Striganov was no Hitler. The Russian knew he was not insane, and would make no such costly errors in judgment.
He gave his orders. “Prepare to move out. We move in two days. Leave only a token force behind to guard our perfect people and the other breeding stock. This time we throw it all at General Raines.”
They met in Ben’s suite of rooms at a motel in Poplar Bluff. Cecil, Ike, Hector, Juan and Mark.
“All right, boys,” Ben got the ball rolling. “I’m open for suggestions as to our next move. Let’s toss it around and see what we come up with.”
“Looks like to me,” Ike said, “we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t. Any move we make is going to cost us in blood.”
“Yes,” Mark said. “I agree. If we elect to cut and run, try to set up a stable government anywhere, Striganov will just find us and we’ll still have to fight.”
“Root hog or die,” Juan mused aloud. “I believe we are in this to the death. I cannot see any other way.” He looked at Cecil.
Cecil sighed and then nodded his head in agreement. “Even if we could make some sort of peace arrangement with the Russian, none of us would be able
to live with our conscience, not knowing what was taking place with so many people. I think it would drive me insane knowing Striganov was putting his master race plan into operation, with all the horrors therewith, and we were sitting back safe, allowing it to happen.”
“I felt physically ill when I first saw that tattoo on Peggy’s arm,” Mark spoke softly. “I believe that hit me harder than seeing the young women and the old people that day on the ridge. It… it drove it all home to me.”
Ike drummed his finger tips on the meeting table. “What bugs me is that we can’t get an accurate picture of just how many troops Striganov has. If we knew that, then we could make some firm plans.”
“No way yet of really knowing that,” Ben said. “But I’ll wager he’s got two divisions to back him up-at least.”
“Felt like he was throwing that at me,” Hector said with a very slight smile. “But I know he wasn’t.”
Hector had been wounded in the side and in the arm, but his wounds were more painful than serious.
What was more agonizing to Colonel Ramos was the fact he had taken such awful casualties: Almost seventy-five percent of his troops were either dead or wounded, with many of the wounded not expected to live.
“They were tryin’ to flank you, Hec,” Ike said. “Come up under us. Their intelligence was bad; they thought you had the smallest force, when in reality, Ben had the smallest troop contingent.” He looked at Ben. “Two divisions, Ben?”
“Yes. But I don’t believe they are all stateside; I
think they’re still coming in from Iceland. And there is this to consider: Russian divisions have always been smaller than American divisions. But even with that knowledge, I’d make a guess Striganov has between eighteen and twenty thousand troops. After all, people, Striganov’s had better than a decade to work this out.”
He expelled his breath and rubbed a hand across his face, as if trying to erase the worry he felt. “I think we’re back to plan one, boys. We just don’t have the people to stand up and slug it out with the Russians.”
Colonel Gray stepped into the room. “Sorry I am late, gentlemen,” the Englishman said. “But I wanted to debrief the last group of LETTERRP’S that came in. General, they report the Russian is gearing up to throw it all at us the next go-round. And the rumors they heard, plus some actual radio transmissions our intelligence people decoded, clearly state the massive push coming at us very soon.”
Ben nodded. The news did not surprise him. It was what he would do if he stood in the Russian’s boots.
Colonel Gray poured himself a cup of coffee, tasted it, grimaced and said, “My word.”
The men laughed and Cecil said, “Ben, you said back to plan one. What did you mean?”
“I believe we’re too small a force to stand up and do anymore nose-to-nose slugging it out with the IPF. Add the fact that we’ve taken substantial losses in troops-it wouldn’t take Striganov long to overrun and destroy us. That’s my belief. So … I think we’ve got to go to a guerrilla-type operation: hit and run, and I mean hit hard. Cut and slash and demoralize. If it can be mined, mine it; if it can be blown, blow it up.
We’ve got snipers who can knock the eye out of a squirrel at three hundred meters-use them as long- distance shooters. Give me your thoughts on those ideas.”
“I don’t see that we have a choice,” Ike said.
The rest of the men agreed.
Ben spoke to Cecil. “Order the heavy howitzers into hiding with the main battle tanks. Send the PU!‘S into hiding. We can’t risk losing any of them and with this type of operation, we’ll have to depend on speed to survive. I want them to come to us this time. This is perfect country for ambushes and throat-cuttings: rolling hills and lots of brush.
“Gentlemen, start breaking your commands into small, highly movable teams. I want destruction and terror and confusion. Ike, get word back to Tri-States that I want all the Claymores, C-4, mines and dynamite we have in storage sent up here ASAP. Go over the use of high explosives with all your people. Hec, get your people to cleaning up the airport here at Poplar Bluff-we’ll use that strip.
“Colonel Gray, send fresh teams of scouts and LETTERRP’S back north with all the equipment they can carry. Tell them to start cutting throats. Have them determine which route the IPF will be taking and mine those bridges. We’ve got some good electronics people with us; they can rig those explosives so our LETTERRP’S can lay back two, three miles and blow the bridges, with maximum killing effects and less danger to themselves.
“I want fresh teams on the way to replace weary teams at all times. I don’t have to tell you men what a strain guerrilla warfare is; you all know a man tires
mentally and physically very quickly. And I don’t want any heroics.” He looked each man square in the eyes. “I mean that. For a number of reasons. Just being a part of any guerrilla action is heroic enough. And you all know that for an iron-clad fact.
“We’ve got the edge over the IPF in this type of action, even though we’re heavily outnumbered. Most of our people have been fighting, in one way or another, for years. This is our type of war. But tell your people if they think they can’t cut it-no pun intended,” Ben said with a smile, and the men all laughed in rough soldier humor, “to step forward now. Don’t endanger their buddies’ lives.
“We will neutralize our zones of operation. If the people are IPF supporters-kill them. We went over this before, but I feel it best to hash it out again. The people will either be one hundred percent for what we are attempting to do, or one hundred percent against us. There will be no middle ground. We don’t have the time or the personnel for a political debate. Anyone could turn our teams in. If you’re Red, you’re dead. That’s the way it has to be, and that’s the way it is going to be from this moment on. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly, General,” Colonel Gray said. He smiled. “Put quite forcefully, I should say.”
Ben looked around the table. There were no questions from any man.
“All right, boys,” Ben said. “I want the first teams equipped and moving north by late this afternoon. That’s it, people, let’s move it and shake it.”
Cecil held up a hand, signaling that the meeting was not yet over. “Ben, I have to ask the question that is on all our minds.”
Ben looked at him.
“Your part in all this guerrilla action will be to oversee the project and direct from this base-is that correct?”
“Not necessarily.” Ben braced himself, for he knew what was coming. And he was going to have no part of it.
“Whoa, now, partner.” Ike swung his eyes to Ben. “Like it or not, someone has to run things from this side of the battle line. You know that and you know who that person is.”
Colonel Gray sat without entering the conversation. He knew very well no one would be able to keep General Raines out of the field. The man had entirely too much old war-horse in him for that. Middle-aged or not.
Juan looked horrified. “General Raines, you can’t be serious. I mean, you can’t be thinking of leading a team into the field.”
Even Mark was upset, his face registering that discomposure. “General, your place is here. That you would even consider-was
Ben silenced them with a look and wave of his hand. “My place, gentlemen, shall be wherever I’m needed
