The Fall of America | Book 10 | No Winners

by Benton, W. R.

  He then opened his safe, handed a folder to Andreevich, smiled and said, “I want it back in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have it back to you by then.”

  “That is all I wanted to share with you, so dismissed.” Standing, coming to attention, the Colonel saluted the Commander and then left the room, the folder in his left hand.

  Danya watched each of the guards over the next few days and one was always pulling a slat in the door open to check on him. He was the only one that did that and he was a night guard. He figured he could lure that guard in his cell and then kill him with his hands. He knew many ways to kill silently and he was determined to escape. Due to his injury and listening to the Americans talk, he knew fairly well where he was being kept and if he was able to return, his information would prove extremely valuable to intelligence.

  He’d stolen a spoon from his morning meal four days back, and over time he’d worn the handle down to a rough point. If needed he’d stab the guard, but the man must die so he could gain his freedom.

  Later than night, well after midnight, the young guard peeked in at the sleeping Russian and saw him doubled up in pain. Afraid he’d be blamed if any prisoner died, the young man opened the door and went into the cell alone. Little did he know he was playing right into the hands of Danya.

  When the guard neared, he asked, “Are you Okay?” “I . . . I hurt . . . so bad.” Danya mumbled as if in severe pain.

  The guard placed his rifle against the wooden bunk bed and leaned over to look the Russian over. Danya punched him hard in the nose, and drove the cartilage and bone deep into the guards brain and he dropped like a sack of rocks, dead before he struck the filthy concrete floor.

  Picking up the rifle, Danya removed all the equipment he could from the guard, including his ammo, bayonet, first aid kit and other field gear. He knew he’d have to fight his way off the base, maybe. Right now he was concerned about the entry point for the prison. There would be a couple of more men in there, probably, so he took the guard’s shirt and quickly put it on. He then moved down the hallway toward the entry control point.

  As he neared he spotted the man that monitors the television security screens reading a paperback western, so he knew then he had the advantage. He looked, but didn’t see another guard, So maybe at night they have fewer men working, he thought. I’ll kill this one and then find a remote spot to leave the base.

  He opened the door quietly and when he slowly entered, he heard the man snoring. Pulling the bayonet from the sheath, he felt the edge, dull. I’ll have to stab him in the chest and pray I hit his heart. If I stab him a number of times, perhaps I’ll get lucky.

  He slowly neared the man, knowing if he woke him he’d probably turn and shoot him dead, so he was very nervous when he came to a stop behind the man. Giving himself a minute or two to collect his wits, he then raised the knife above his head and with full force he stuck the man in the chest, full to the knife hilt. The man started to scream but Danya pulled the knife and stabbed him in the throat and sawed the blade, hoping to sever his blood veins, but all he did was cause the man to scream even louder. Starting to panic now because of all the noise, he raised the dead guards AR-15 and struck the struggling man hard in the face.

  The man fell to the floor and his eyes were open wide in surprise of being attacked. He tried to get away, but the Russian was too strong for him. Finally, the Russian began to stab the American in the back, over and over again. Minutes later, the man stopped moving.

  Thanks to language school, which all members of Spetsnaz had to attend and complete before they are assigned to a working unit, he had the English skills to read the console panel and all the various switches to get out of the place. First, he turned the alarm system off so if he made a mistake it wouldn’t wake the dead. He flipped all the door switches to open and then seeing the main door swing free and open, he moved to leave the prison. Unknown to him, he’d also released every prisoner being held. All the doors were open and men, along with women, were making a break for the main door.

  Danya walked to a car in the parking lot, turned at a noise and saw what must have been a hundred prisoners run from the prison to the base proper.

  He climbed into a military vehicle, a truck, and hot wired it within seconds. A minute later it started and off he went, staying on the main roads, and heading for the main gate.

  The main gate was well lighted and it made him nervous as he approached at a low speed. He was still wearing the dead guard’s shirt, so he buttoned it up and placed an old cap on his head that was in the seat beside him.

  A guard neared the gate and held his hand out to stop him. The man at the console had been carrying a pistol and that was part of his armament now. He placed the rifle on the seat and pulled the pistol. He cocked it and came to a stop, his heart beating loudly in his chest.

  “Watch your ass out driving tonight. The prisoners killed two guards and have escaped.”

  “Whoa, when did that happen?”

  “Maybe 10 minutes ago. The north machine gun tower killed a good fifty of them and maybe a few more. The rest scattered. We’re not sure how they got free, but we suspect the prison guards are dead. Go, and be safe. Pick up no one on the road, understand?”

  “Hell yes, I understand. Ain’t no way I’m pickin’ up anyone tonight. You two have a nice evening.”

  “Won’t be any Russians leave this way, they’re all climbing the fences in the dark and away from the light. I suspect our evening will be quiet enough.”

  “I need to hurry or my First Sergeant will eat my ass for breakfast if I’m late getting back.”

  Laughing, the guard said, “Go, you don’t need any trouble when you return. Be safe.” As the gate raised, Danya drove away as he yelled, “Y’all have a great night.” He waved as well, because the guards were waving at him. He watched in the mirror and another vehicle pulled up to leave the base. Then he went down a hill and could no longer see the base at all.

  He knew his reputation with Spetsnaz had just jumped up leaps and bounds because he’d successfully escaped an American POW prison. He’d escaped right under the eyes of his hosts and he didn’t hide leaving.

  It was then a flash from the lights of the car that had just left the base behind him struck him in the eyes from the rear-view mirror.

  Glancing at his speedometer he slowed down, wanting his speed to be more like a bored driver on the way back to his organization, but in no real hurry. He slowed to 30 MPH an>d kept nervously checking the car in his mirror.

  The car moved in close behind him and rode his ass a good five miles and then turned on emergency lights, which he knew meant they wanted him to pull over. He hit his turn signal on and pulled into a side road. His truck stopped and he turned his emergency flashers on. He stayed in the cab, kept his cocked pistol in his lap, and mentally prepared to kill again, if needed.

  A man was behind the wheel and another man was a passenger in the front seat. He watched as the driver got out and walked to his truck. He rolled down the window and waited.

  “Speeding a bit coming off the base, weren’t you?”

  “I really didn’t know, because I’m late and my Sergeant will have my ass if I roll in ten minutes late. I heard they had some prisoners escape, so I had no need to be anywhere close by the base or so I figured.”

  The Military Policeman chuckled and said, “Keep the speed down or the next time I’ll give you a ticket. How’d you hear about the escaped men and women?”

  “Main gate guard told me.”

  “Main Gate, car twelve.”

  “Go, twelve.”

  “Did you tell anyone about the prison break?”

  “Only the truck driver who said he was behind schedule.”

  “The truck in front of us when I left the base?”

  “That’s correct, why?”

  “Nothing. Just wondered, but keep it quiet from now on, okay?”

  “Sure, no biggie.”

  Turning to
Danya the cop said, “You can go now, Private, but keep your speed down and if your Sergeant gives you a hard time, have him call Staff Sergeant Prings at base Security Police and speak to me. Go, the night is almost over.”

  “Thank you, Junior Sergeant.” Danya knew in an instant that he'd just messed up badly.

  “Huh? What’s this Junior Sergeant crap? We don’t have such a rank.”

  Raising the stolen 9mm pistol he fired twice into the cop’s face and when he fell, Danya jumped from the truck and shot twice at the passenger, with his second shot striking the man where his neck met his head. The Russian moved to the car, pulled the badly bleeding man from the passengers seat and let him fall in the water filled drainage ditch. He then went back to the truck, got the M-16, and drove off in the car.

  Chapter 3

  The General stopped speaking, took a sip of his coffee and asked, “What do you think of all I just told you?”

  “Do you honestly believe the Russians want peace?” John asked and met the General’s eyes.

  “No, I don’t, not the government, but the people of Russia are tired of their boys and girls coming home in metal boxes. This is an expensive war, John, and has been the most costly conflict in their recorded history with the exception for World War Two. Hundreds of thousands have returned home dead or maimed. Some of their dead, of course, could not be recovered. The Russian people have had enough. Last night their riots cost over 1 million dollars in damages, as a guess, and there were 108 people killed; that number includes protesters, military, and police. The Russians are tired of the conflict.”

  “So, what does all of this mean to me and my people?”

  “John, you are going to Paris and you will be one of our representatives at the round table that will bring peace to our nation. You will go as a General Officer and in full military dress.”

  “And if I say no?”

  Laughing, the General said, “Then I’ll order you to go and you’ll find my order is legal, Colonel. I don’t think you’ll say no, but it could be dangerous.”

  “How is that?”

  “The big companies in Russia don’t want an end to the conflict because they are making fortunes in government contracts. Over the last ten years of this war, we estimate 142 billion dollars have been spent by the Russians in war supplies. Everything from a canteen to a missile are made by private contractors. We know you are able to protect yourself and you’re a man of honor. Will you go for me? Or, better yet, for America?”

  John stood, walked to a window and gave an audible sigh.

  He was honored to be selected, but this was politics and he had no desire to be involved in anything political. Only, America needed him.

  Turning to the General, he gave a weak smile and said, “I’ll go, for both you and my country, sir.”

  “Good, good. Splendid John, your answer pleases me. Next week, Monday, you will be headed to Dallas, the new Washington D.C., where you’ll receive training on what we will accept and not accept from the Russians. You’ll be taught when to speak and how to carry yourself in a room full of Russians. By the time you arrive in Paris, you’ll know what you are to do and how to do it. There will be another General with you, brigadier General Thomas W. Wilkerson, and he goes way back in the army. He’s not very formal, but he puts up with little or no bullshit. Just so you know, he’s a hard nose.”

  “You make him sound like Chesty Puller, the Marine.”

  “Oh, they could have been twins. He’s a damn fine man, but when he has a job to do, he goes all out.”

  Opening the bottom drawer on his desk, the General pulled out a quart of bourbon and asked, “Drink to celebrate?”

  “I’ll have one to celebrate the end of this war, but only one. I’m on duty now.” Removing two shot glasses from his desk, he poured them full and handed one to John.

  “To the end of the war!” the General said as their glasses clinked together when they touched.

  “To the end of all war.” John said and grinned.

  “Now, once the truce has been signed, return here immediately, because we may have problems with the Red Chinese next. I understand they are making some pretty big demands for their assistance these days.”

  “Another war?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so, not yet anyway. They’ve had an interest in our politics since 2017, when a group of radical young men and women contacted them about information on establishing a communist state. With the Russians leaving, the American Communists may make a move to take over our country and we cannot allow that to happen.”

  “Sir, you mean to tell me the socialists in this country are strong enough to attempt a coup once we have a government established?”

  “I honestly don’t know, but we’ll be weak at first while we try to establish a government and that would be the best time for the Communists to make an attempt. I may not agree with their doctrine, but they are not fools. Now, before you think they're not a serious threat, before the war our population was almost four hundred million. Let's say half have died or been killed, so I think that will leave about eighty million young Americans that lean far to the left. So, about one third of our population favors socialism. Now, I can’t really say if they are dedicated enough to start a Civil War, but we can’t forget them as a threat to our republic.”

  “I see. So, after the Russians have left, we may have to take to killing Americans. I don’t like that idea.”

  “I recently read an old journal my great great grandpa kept and in it he said, ‘The hardest part of this War Between the States is not the killing, that’s easy. The difficult part is to know you are killing and maiming fellow Americans. May God forgive us. I feel like my grandpa, only we must preserve this nation, no matter who we must kill, do you agree?”

  John took a sip of his whiskey, coughed at its strong after taste, and replied, “Yes, sir, I fully agree. I think we need to fight against all odds, and who we fight is not important. I want my old America back and by God, I’ll fight until I have her.”

  “Glad to hear you say that, so, any questions?”

  John tossed the rest of his drink back and stood. Coming to attention, he said, “No, sir. I have my verbal orders and I’ll not let you down, sir.”

  Smiling the General said, “Go, John, and get ready to leave us. Monday will be here sooner than you know. Again, watch your ass in France, because you may be on a hit list or get in the way of the big Russian businesses. Oh, take your aide with you. Joy needs trained, as well.”

  Saluting the older man, John said, “By your leave, sir.”

  Returning the salute with a casual wave of his right hand, the General said, “Dismissed, John, and when you return from Paris, perhaps we’ll know more about the Communists and their plans. Be safe and take care. Now get out of here.” He gave a light chuckle. I’m so glad this damned war is ending. If the American Communists make a move, we’ll squash them like the little bug they are, I hope, the General thought.

  Chapter 4

  Danya moved the car along the old macadam road and kept a sharp eye open for potholes. The last thing he wanted was to rip the muffler off and sound like a tank on the highway. I think if I head north by east I will encounter Russian troops in about 120 Kilometers. So far I have been very lucky, and I do have a nice stock of firearms, he thought as he slowed down for another break in the road surface.

  Once past the rough parts, he sped up and was soon back at 35 MPH on his speedometer. He could go no faster because of the roughness of the road and the fact he might have to turn any minute.

  An hour later he spotted a lighted area ahead.

  “Crap, looks like a roadblock up ahead.” he mumbled to himself. “I need to just crash through it and get my ass to friendly troops. I did not come this far to be taken prisoner again.” He flipped the safety off his pistol and began to slow down.

  “I will take out as many of the guards as I can when I drive through and hope they do not have a vehicle to come after me.” He
spoke to himself in a low voice as he slowed to about 10 MPH.

  Taking the pistol in his right hand, he held it ready as he drove with his left hand. As he passed the guard on the driver’s side he fired two rounds through his open window and saw them strike the young guard in the chest. He didn’t watch the man fall, but switched his attention to the older Sergeant on the other side of the car. He fired through the glass in the passenger’s door and saw blood splatter as three bullets burned holes through him. A third man jumped in front of the car and fired a long automatic burst from his M16, not noticing he missed the whole car.

  Danya ducked, not expecting the man to miss, but he pushed the accelerator down and the front of the car struck the American Private dead center and he fell under the wheels. The man’s body made a big bump for the tires but he only slowed the car’s speed down by a mile or two. Once over the man’s head, the car quickly gained speed after he entered the open road again. He push the car to 55 Miles Per Hour and then settled in for a while.

  He suddenly saw a bright light moving in the sky ahead of him and quickly brought the car to a stop, gathered up the guns, and moved into the trees. He’d gone less than fifty meters when the car exploded as a rocket struck it dead center. Machine gun bullets threw pieces of concrete road the into the air. Then it switched direction and moved after Dimitri.

  They must have thermal imaging capability on board, he thought as he moved to a culvert that ran under the highway. Scurrying like a frightened mouse, he fled into the culvert, knowing it would hide his glowing image on the screen. Only what if they landed and put a man on the ground? I will worry about that when I see it happen, he thought.

  The helicopter was searching for him. The pilot was moving to a position, hovering as the gunner in the back used a large spotlight to search the darkness below, and then going to a new position to search. He prayed the aircraft would not spot the culvert, because just one missile or rocket would kill him, even hidden from prying eyes.