Ambush in the Ashes by William W. Johnstone

when the airport is secure and they can come in. I’ve already had the ship captain who is bringing their vehicles and supplies over alerted to hold off attempting to dock until he receives word that the dock area is safe and secure. He’ll lay a safe distance offshore until he gets word.” Ben pushed back his chair and
     
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    stood up. “We’ll be pulling out of here at dawn tomorrow. Nice talking with you, Paula.”
    Ben walked away and Dr. Chase sat down, a smile on his face.
    “What are you grinning about?” Paula asked.
    “You’ll learn not to try to get sneaky with Ben Raines, Paula. The man invented the word.”
    “I’m beginning to think you’re right, Lamar.”
    Lamar’s grin faded and his eyes grew serious. “Paula, warn your reporter friends not to cross Ben. Ben doesn’t like the press, and he believes strongly that the press has no business anywhere near a war zone. He’s not going to cut them any slack. If they get into trouble, they’re on their own. I’ve gone over the list of reporters Ben’s people intercepted from your State Department transmissions. As far as I can tell, they’re all a pack of whiny left-wingers who pee their lace-trimmed drawers at the sight of a gun and fall into a foaming fit of indignation when some punk gets shot. Paula, he’s shot reporters for filing a biased story.”
    Paula’s smile quickly faded at that. “You and Ben think quite a bit alike, don’t you, Lamar?”
    “Quite a bit, Paula. We’ve been together a long time.”
    “These men and women will report what they see.”
    “Will they, Paula?” Lamar questioned. “Or will they report what they want to see?”
    “Well, we’re beating the rainy season,” Ben said, when the column was about an hour’s drive from the Gambian border. “But not by much.”
    “17 and 18 Batts are reporting the roads are in really bad shape,” Corrie said. “Slowing them down to about ten miles an hour, tops.”
    “They’ll get worse, much worse,” Ben warned. “The
     
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    rainy season is not far away. And when that happens the roads will turn into a quagmire of red mud.”
    None of the team asked how Ben knew that. They did not inquire into Ben’s past … although all knew that Ben had done contract work for the CIA as a young man just out of the service, and some of that work had been in Africa.
    “The column’s going to have to stop,” Corrie announced. “There is some sort of old military truck stalled in the road ahead.”
    “Let’s get out and stretch our legs,” Ben said, opening the door and stepping out onto the road.
    He leaned against the big wagon and rolled a cigarette. All around him lay creeks and swamps, foreboding looking even in the midday.
    A strange stillness lay over the land, and Ben puzzled about that, for this area was known for its chattering monkeys and squawking parrots.
    “Jersey,” he said softly.
    “Yeah, boss?”
    “Tell Corrie I said to put everybody on high alert, but to do it quietly and easy. I’ve suddenly got this real bad feeling about this place.”
    “You are not alone, boss.”
    Corrie quietly issued the orders and the Rebels began unassing from the trucks, nonchalantly appearing, but all the while they were seeking out the best defensive positions along the road. Tank commanders were talking on another frequency, ready to button up and swing their turrets, staggered left and right.
    Ben reached into the big wagon and pulled out a rucksack containing several dozen filled magazines for his CAR and for his team. He had already picked out a good position in a ditch just a few yards from the road, and with his eyes had told his team where they were going when trouble started.
     
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    Jersey stepped close and stuck a stick of chewing gum into her mouth. “Wagon’s going to get full of holes, boss.”
    “Better it than us,” Ben said with a smile. He cut his eyes to Cooper. “What’s Coop looking so worried about? An ambush is nothing