Betrayal in the Ashes by Johnstone William W

Author:Johnstone, William W. [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2014-04-01T04:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

Ben turned around to face his questioner. “Your name?”

“Bobby Day.”

“You’ll have to take that up with the Secretary General of the United Nations. We work for them. When they tell me to go in, I’ll take my people in.”

“You’re not going to give me a lecture on my questioning your tactics on ‘stabilizing a country,’ General?”

Ben smiled. “I don’t give a damn what you think of my tactics, sonny-boy. Does that answer your last question?”

“It’s my understanding, General,” Bobby called, “that the U.N. has no plans to go into Africa. Care to comment on that?”

“I don’t know what the U.N.’s long-range plans are. Right now, I’m concerned about Europe. I’ll worry about Africa when the time comes.”

“Have you heard that several senators and representatives back home have gone on hunger strikes protesting the U.N.’s lack of concern about Africa?”

“No, I have heard nothing about that. Who are they?”

“Rita Rivers, former Vice President Harriet Hooter, Immaculate Crapums, and Wiley Ferret are among the group.”

“They could all stand to lose a few pounds.”

A number of the reporters laughed at that, surprising Ben.

“I can quote you on that?”

“Certainly.” Ben looked up at the sky. He figured about one hour before dusk. “Get settled in for the night, people,” he said, only his own Rebels catching and smiling at the double entendre. “This city is still crawling with creepies, and they might be hungry.” As Ben walked away, he whispered to Corrie, “Bump our intel people. Find out everything you can about Bobby Day. And find out about that Africa rumor.”

Bobby had left the group of reporters and was attempting to get to Ben. He found the way blocked by Lt. Bonelli’s troops. Bobby gave up and returned to the reporters, who were being herded onto trucks for the ride back to safe quarters. Ben had finally relented and assigned troops to guarding the reporters . . . at night; during the daylight hours they were on their own.

“Smug arrogant bastard,” Bobby said, climbing into the back of a deuce and a half. “I’m going to bring him down off that high horse.”

“Before you do that,” a reporter said, “give us the name and address of your next of kin, will you?”

Bobby thought that was really funny. Looking around him, he wondered why he was the only one laughing.

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