by T A Walters
“We got 680 feet of cable to replace,” he said. “Most all the copper is in an embrittlement stage of high resistance. The solar farm ain’t putting through enough power to light more than a few blocks.”
JP looked down, “Sit down and enjoy the day–eat for crying out loud. We’ll worry about pulling a new leg of cable tomorrow.”
“You mean new wires?”
JP swept his hand over his face before looking up, “Yes cable. You know idiot boy, copper filled rubber tubing.”
“Aw yea … wiayse!”
Rolling his eyes back, JP blew a patient sigh, “Yes wires. Go eat!”
Truck Dog smiled a toothy grin and rubbed his hands together, seeing his wife approach with a plate of food. Everyone on JP’s side of the table scooted down to make room for Truck Dog and his wife to sit. JP glanced at Truck Dog, “Touch my food, I’ll murderlize ya.”
“It’s like Mo and Curly,” said Scuba Bill in a near whisper in Penney’s ear.
“Who?”
“Never mind.”
Chapter 12
~Savannah Georgia~
Osgood Mining & Construction Company.
Rita and her brother Richard stared at each other, worried in the thought they had now used up their usefulness and would soon be murdered by this insane Russian man. They had led him to the place he desired to find, and now this was the end of them both. However, instead, he glanced at the both of them and in a stoic tone, “Wait here until I return.”
Rita sat close to her brother hoping to stay-away the chill in him that caused him to tremble. As she watched Viktor depart from the vehicle, she assured Richard that they can make safe, an escape from this place. She watched outside her window, the sparse scattering of snowflakes dancing around in the frigid wind. It would be hard for her to think of leaving the warmer environment of this vehicle for the freedom of escaping into the forest beyond the large open pits that were part of a strip mining operation. She had barely enough to keep her warm in this wintry weather. Her brother had only a light jacket, and she was sure he would not make it through the day much less the night without a warm fire and some cover.
Her stomach churned, not so much from the hunger, but from the concern of what would become of them if they stayed put. Death by a bullet or a lingering, painful death is the choice here, she thought.
Seeing Viktor enter the construction trailer, Richard spoke. “Now’s our chance sis, we gotta run!”
Rita clutched the sleeve of Richard’s jacket, “No,” is all she said.
Richard’s hand, frigid and frail as it was, clutched hers. “You’re kidding me. He’s coming back to kill us, Rita. We’re nothing to him now.”
With a tear in her eyes, Rita gave Richard a weak smile of assurance. “Trust in the Lord, we’ll be fine.”
“But if we run, he’s not going to bother with trying to hunt us down. Trust me.”
“We’re miles from anywhere. We’ll freeze to death either way. The least he can do is drop us off near the town where we may get cover from the weather.”
~~~~
Inside the Osgood Mining & Construction office trailer, Viktor explained the details of his request for paving work he needed to have done. Dale Osgood slowly nodded, his hand holding his chin as if in deep thought.
“So,” said Dale. “Let me get this straight. You need to repair or repave an aircraft runway a kilometer or so in length?”
Viktor saw the puzzled look Dale gave him. “Yes, perhaps a mile as you would say.”
“And by which method do you wish to pay for this?”
Viktor smiled. “Your call.”
Dale leaned in his chair and thought a moment. “We’ll work something out, I’m sure.”
Viktor knew his presence was a sign of prosperity to a man sitting in a quagmire of despair. He knew that the instant Dale had asked him, what the hell was that, referring to his European built all-terrain tactical vehicle, the Mk1 Daimler Ferret Scout Car. It was a monster SUV, more like a predatory animal by the way it sat in a suspended attack profile as if it were ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey.
Early the next morning, the Daimler Ferret Scout Car Mk1 drove up and down the runway at Hunter Air Force Base. Stopping, Dale Osgood stepped out of his new Daimler Ferret Scout Car and met with General Gregor Alexei Pestro and son Viktor. Smiling, he shook the hand of the General and told him the runway repairs could be fixed in a matter of one day. Or, if the General preferred, three days to repave the entire runway. The General liked the latter of that suggestion and asked when Dale and his company could get started.
“Tomorrow,” Dale quickly answered. “Of course there would be a price difference between patching and repaving.”
The General gave a thoughtful frown, “Of course.”
“Perhaps you throw in a few of those,” said Dale pointing to a pair of small spotter recon planes sitting on a tarmac near the main hangar.
Gregor nodded his head. “Of course.”
“Oh and a few hundred gallons of aviation fuel. Just so happen I have a spare empty tank in the yard, you know.”
“Anything else?”
“If you have another one of these Daimlers–for my wife of course?”
General Gregor nodded his head, “Of course … anything else?”
Shaking hands Dale smiled. This was the best deal he had swung in a long, long time. “We’ll get started first thing tomorrow.”
As Dale turned and walked toward his new vehicle, General Gregor turned a glance at his son Viktor. “So those two people you brought back with you?”
Viktor’s eyebrows raised and he sighed in resignation. “I don’t know, father. I feel their pain … and they have been beneficial to me … perhaps ….”
“Perhaps?” Gregor parroted looking at his son with a grin. “Perhaps they have found a soft spot in your heart?”
They walked along while Viktor explained how he met Rita and Richard. “And now all I want to do is thank them for complying with my wishes and making this runway repair happen. I will have them fed and clothed before deciding if they may be more useful to us.”
“And if they aren’t useful?”
Viktor’s steely blue eyes met with his father’s. “I will deal with it as necessary.”
Gregor slapped his son on the back, “I know you will.”
~~~~
Behind the Commissary in the Mess Hall, Russian soldiers met for dinner of cube steak and potatoes. A choice of corn or cut beans and a plastic cup of ale rounded out the fare. Richard and his sister Rita ate apart from the rest, in the private dining quarters set aside for the officers. Several officers, including the General, Viktor and an oddly dressed man in civilian clothes sat around a large table complete with an elegant tablecloth and fine china. On the menu tonight was beef stroganoff mashed potatoes with a silky red gravy along with steamed broccoli, carrots and an artichoke salad on the side. Conversation broke for the while everyone around the table said grace and began eating. The oddly dressed man peered across the table at Richard and Rita. Speaking Russian, he addressed Richard what seemed to be a question. In the silence that followed, Viktor interrupted the oddly dressed man to tell him that Richard was an American and didn’t understand Russian dialect. Switching to English the oddly dressed man said, confused, “And he wears the rank of Junior Sergeant?”
Switching back to Russian, Viktor replied, “No, he is Richard, and he is wearing spare clothing.”
The oddly dressed man pointed at the name embroidered on Richard’s shirt, “Then his surname is not Gubinov, yes?”
“Yes,” replied Viktor in Russian. “I believe his name is Smith.
“And her?”
“No not Vetrov. She is a Smith as well.”
The oddly dressed man smiled, and he too took the hint to speak in Russian. “I must get to know them.”
He didn’t show it, but Viktor cringed inside for this oddly dressed man was an intelligence officer otherwise known as the KGB. He partly stood
to reach across the table to touch both Rita and Richard’s hands. “Boris Durov,” said the KGB officer in English before switching back to Russian. “Glad to make your acquaintance.”
He sat back down and glared at Viktor. “You never mentioned in your report that you had operatives.” A pause that left Viktor glaring at Boris before he continued. ”By the way, Boris said while maintaining a cheerful demeanor that made Viktor’s skin crawl. “They are our guests for now.”
Another pause while Boris looked down into his plate of stroganoff, “And the meaning of the Russian fatigues?”
“Temporary until their clothes are laundered, I assure you.”
Rita’s eyes shifted back and forth between the two men. The switch back to their native tongue signaled to her that what they had to say was not good. She kept her silence as she and Richard were previously told to do. In the advent they were asked any question Viktor would supply the answers and that he did, well it seemed. For now, the table erupted with a conversation among those around them. With no way to know what all the talk was about, Rita and her brother sat trying to look relaxed when in reality being more uncomfortable with their situation. If part of the plan Viktor had in store for them were genuine, then they’d be safely on their own before the laundry dryer drum came to a stop. But that never happened. Being held here since late yesterday might be a sign that they were here indefinitely. Rita understood what these people were capable of and she cared not for them, yet their presence here seemed to draw an air of compassion for them both.
“I plan to test them both–for a special mission.”
Boris frowned, “Such as?”
“A small detail that requires them to seek information, but first I will arrange for them to learn a few words of Russian.”
“They are enemies, and you expect sovereignty?”
“They are Americans first, yes. But they are orphans by the State of their country and have no one or no place to go. They are young and may be taught to see Russia as providing aid to an unfortunate homeland situation.”
Boris’s expression fell. Clearly, in thought, a smile slowly raised and his eyes shone with a particular glee that Viktor could not have expected. “This is brilliant. You must tell me more!”
Gregor’s brow furled with a confused expression to lend Viktor a look of disdain. “Father, consider please. They are confused about what has happened in America. With no news to convey to them the answers they want, we will supply them with all they need to know.”
Boris clapped his hands. “Bravo,” he cheered picking up his goblet of wine. “You will tell them the Arabs and Chinese are their enemies!”
Gregor then smiled and dropped his two cents into the conversation. “We will inform them we are here to help them overthrow the Chinese and the Middle Eastern savages!”
Boris expounded through a harsh and low tone to his voice. “We must not speak too much of our plans in front of Rita and Richard from this day forward. At least not in front of them as they will learn to understand and speak Russian soon enough.”
Viktor smiled. “I will begin their training tomorrow.”
Gregor laughed, “My son, he knows how to speak English better than Americans!”
“Perhaps I will sit in your classroom,” said Boris. “I too would like to speak better than just a few words of American.”
All three men looked down the table at Rita and Richard. They were all smiling wide, and all that Rita could figure was they approved of their visit. Rita returned a weak smile and then turned a look at her brother who was also smiling. “You don’t suppose they want to eat us?” Richard remarked through clenched teeth.
“Shush,” Rita replied in a hoarse whisper. “German people don’t eat people … I think.”
Just then, a matron of the chefs entered the dining room, “I have a special dessert born from a can of fruit discovered in the kitchen and a recipe to go with it.” A man dressed in white chef’s clothing followed into the dining room as the matron smiled and wiped her hands on a linen napkin. The chef placed the cake on the center-most section of the table and smiled. “Behold,” she concluded, saying in English, “The pineapple upside down cake!”
Applause lifted the officers to stand and while doing so, congratulated the matron on her creativity. Rita and Richard copied their actions and stood as well. Richard leaned into his sister and remarked, “We’re standing for an upside down pineapple cake?”
“Guess they can’t grow pineapples over there, so yeah, go figure?”
~~~~
Early the next day, it was decided by Rita that she and her brother were not captives or prisoners for that matter. They were rescued by the Russian Peace Corp with the purpose of helping them help themselves. A nation rebuilding was the goal of these friendly forces. It was never their intention to harm them, but now it was considered a stroke of good fortune that they were chosen to begin working together with Russia.
Viktor had settled on a small room that formerly staged an assortment of signs and sawhorses near the far end of the barracks where Rita and Richard stayed. While Viktor was having the little room painted a cheerful color of white and blue, framed pictures of wild ducks, beavers, and horses were cleaned and hung on the walls. These were the motives that the two young Americans related to, and grew up with, in this state called Georgia. They were ‘backwoods types,’ as Viktor described from his studies of America.
The weather fluctuated in ways not familiar to Viktor. One day it was beginning to snow, and the next temperatures climbed into the upper 70’s. It was one of those days where the climate has been pleasant for just wearing a light tee-shirt and going on a warm Indian summer day’s walk while the paint dried in the newly remodeled classroom. With Rita alongside Viktor and Richard on the other, they casually walked along a path leading down to a small brook from a strip of forest land near the end of the taxi-way attached to one of the aircraft runways. Viktor talked about the future of America and what role the two young Americans played in getting the nation back on track once again. It would be a long and challenging task, but one he was confident could be achieved with their help.
Rita understood the reason Viktor would point at such things as trees and birds and explain the beauty in them. She also heard and repeated the names of objects he pointed to in the Russian language. Richard did so as well. For today, such things as birds, trees, rocks, and squirrels all were indicated to by Rita and Richard and exclaimed by name in Russian.
Viktor breathed a sigh of approval and smiled; for the three of them, today was a good day. Rita looked up at Viktor and returned a smile, thanking him for a beautiful day together. As a symbol of their trust and friendship, Rita gave Viktor her bracelet. It was a turquoise bracelet of small stones joined together by sterling silver wire.
Chapter 13
~Los Alamitos Joint Forces Training Center~
Southern California
Just days before the Chinese militarization of the Los Alamitos Army Airfield, offshore naval bombardment destroyed asphalt, concrete and steel structures. Of the many 800 military, civilian and contract personnel who were on duty there, having little time to retaliate for the surprise attack made up for massive losses. Thousands of Chinese infantry fighters hit the ground at Los Alamitos, killing anything that breathed air. These same infantrymen served to clean-up and dispose of their enemy. Many were assigned to making repairs to the airfield runways where necessary. As far as military support equipment including trucks, armored vehicles and construction equipment, loaders, forklift and so forth remained handy and ready. Some undamaged aircraft remained as well as a few dozen helicopters left over from the 40th Aviation Brigade. Chinese flight personnel wasted no time in acquainting themselves with the various choppers, especially the AH-1F Cobra Attack Helicopters.
Commodore Min Li of the Peoples Liberation Army, Navy stepped on to the runway tarmac from aboard an American UH-1H Huey sent out from the Los Alamitos airfield less than an hour before. The American
chopper set down on the flight deck of a Russian built aircraft carrier sold some time ago to the Chinese. The Chinese christened the ship the Liaoning (CV-16), and it was Commodore Min Li’s favored vessel of deployment. The Liaoning was the leading platform of observation and as such a crucial player in this phase of the battle theater; such being, the invasion of the US western front. Considered a training vessel, it warmed Min Li’s heart to watch battle operations at sea trials performed so near to American shores from aboard the Liaoning. However, now he was ready to take occupation of his new post at the Joint Forces Training Center, here at Los Alamitos near San Diego.
First meeting with Min Li was Lieutenant Commander (OF-3), Jing Wang. On the airfield tarmac also stood Lieutenant (OF-2) Tao Chen. They both stood at attention until Min told them to fall at ease. In so doing, the two addressed Min Li with the honorable pleasure of having him ride aboard an open-air scout vehicle. The weather is far better than his home in China, Min settled back, taking in the guided tour with a pleasurable expression hard to suppress from his Lieutenants. Jing proceeded to tell Min of all the base’s amenities that graced the base grounds. Such included the exercise gym, classrooms and even a UH-1 Flight Simulator (2B24SFTS). Min was especially impressed with the fuel supply storage facilities and the base history of supplying support mobilizations and deployments including Gulf War activities, Bosnia and Panama. Airfield operations often land C-5, C-17, C-141, and other transports, including the Super Guppy used by NASA to ship large space vehicle assemblies.
There was so much to do, however, in Min’s mind; all he could think of now was how easy this invasion had become. It was as if the Americans just handed over the keys to their nation. Perhaps had it not been the sudden loss of electrical power and the shock of losing their beloved internet, things would have been different. Strike blind the eyes of an eagle, and it becomes a dove. Without the high tech telemetries of all the many eyes out in space, America had been set back seventy years. With no way to conduct modern tactical warfare, US Satellites were one by one disposed of. True, it is said a few remained, but as it were, it seemed no one to utilize them against their enemies effectively.
