had been hovering just out of sight and sound of the small city. When die pirate ships were just out of the harbor, the pirates thinking they had gotten clear, the gunships swooped in, low and fast and deadly, machine-gun and cannon and rocket fire rocking and rolling. The harbor became a watery grave for the pirates, who learned a hard lesson about the Rebels diat day: They gave no quarter and asked for none. War was not a game to them … it was a profession.
“Send teams out to scutde those boats still floating,” Ben ordered. “Clear die harbor. We’re going to need it.”
“We’ve got a few prisoners,” Corrie said, after acknowledging Ben’s orders and transmitting them.
“Bring the officers to me.”
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The pirates, Ben surmised, had spent their youth watching too many old pirate movies; they obviously envisioned themselves as real swashbucklers: Earrings in both ears, bandannas around their heads, tattoos on every available patch of skin.
“They all speak English,” Jersey informed him.
Ben looked at the pirates and then laughed at them. “Which one of you is Tyrone Power and who is Errol Flynn?” he asked.
The four men scowled at him.
Beth came in and laid a piece of paper on the table Ben was using for a desk. Ben read it, his expression changing into a deep frown. He glanced up at the men. “Which one of you gave the orders to slaughter the civilians before you tried to sail out?”
The pirates all grinned. One hawked up phlegm and spat on the floor.
Ben nonchalantly lifted a pistol from his desk and shot the spitter in the knee. The pirate hit the floor, howling in pain, both hands holding onto his bloody and ruined knee.
The others started jabbering in a mixture of languages, all pointing at the other.
“It’s a slaughterhouse in town, boss,” Cooper said, stepping into the room. He gave no more than a cursory glance at the man screaming on the floor. “These bastards killed all the old people. Shot them, hanged them, and killed them in other ways too disgusting to mention.”
“Kids?”
“Only a few kids in town, boss. Some of the older people left alive said most of the kids were seized along with the young women several months ago and sold.”
“Any idea where?”
Cooper shook his head.
Paula stepped onto the porch of the home. She heard
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the squalling and rushed into the house. She pulled up short at the sight of the man writhing in pain on the floor. “My God!” she blurted. “What’s happened here?”
“I shot him,” Ben told her. “And I’m about to hang these others. What do you want, Paula?”
“You’re going to hang them?”
“Yes. You want to watch?”
“You’re not serious!”
Jersey laughed at her.
Paula’s eyes narrowed in anger. “You can’t just hang these men, Ben. Not without a trial.”
“You wanna bet?”
Ben thought Paula would barf all over her combat boots when he hanged the pirates, including the man with the busted knee.
“Eased his pain,” Ben said, looking at the pirate swinging from a makeshift gallows. “All right, let’s prowl the town and see what we have.”
Death.
The elderly had been shot and hanged and burned alive and tortured to death and killed in every manner a criminal degenerate mind could dream up … for sport, their bodies left to rot under the sun. The stench was overpowering.
“Get the troops into protective gear and clear these bodies from the streets,” Ben ordered. “Before Dr. Chase starts jumping up and down and screaming.”
“I do not jump up and down, Raines,” Lamar said, walking up behind Ben and team. “However, I might raise my voice from time to time.”
“Where is Paula Pureheart?” Ben asked.
Chase sighed, feigning great patience. “The lady had a very gentle upbringing, Raines. She is just not accustomed to your crudeness and vulgarity.”
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“Yeah, Lamar. Right. Her ancestors came over on the Mayflower and all that.”
“That is