The Fall of America | Book 10 | No Winners
Page 4
The helicopter spent a good twenty minutes looking for him and it must have surprised them to not find anyone, but they soon moved on and away from the escaping Russian. After hearing the aircraft moving away from him, he climbed from the culvert and seeing the lights of a farmhouse across the road, he moved that direction intending to get a new vehicle and maybe some food.
When he neared, an old Bluetick Coonhound start barking. The front door opened and out stepped an old man in his 70s with an even older shotgun in his hands.
“Blue, what do ya hear or see, son?”
The dog ran to the old man on the porch and was still barking.
“I don’t see nothin’, Blue, but that don’t mean much with my eyes like they are these days.”
“Pa, he’s givin’ his booger bark so it must be a person out there.” A female voice yelled from inside the house.
“I’m tellin’ ya, Sue, there ain’t a soul out here.”
“Come back in the house then, because standing there holding the door open is letting all the heat out of the house.”
The old man stepped back inside and the door closed.
I need to get rid of that dog before I can steal anything, he thought as he moved forward.
The dog soon neared him growling.
“Come here, boy!” Danya said in a low voice.
The dog neared and the Russian quickly moved for the beast and in an instant had his head in his hands. He gave a quick sharp twist of the head and a light snapping sound was heard as the dog’s neck was broken. In the middle of a whimper the dog fell dead.
He then moved up on the porch and held the M4 in his hands. He knew he would have to kill them both, but that was no problem for him. With little thought he kicked the front door in and watched the glass in the window shatter from impact with the floor.
When the old man stood in front of the sofa, Danya fired; unknowingly, he fired on automatic and the man was stitched down the middle. He fell screaming.
“Don’t move woman, or you’re next.”
The woman, the man had called Sue, sat perfectly still, but inside she was terrified. Who is this man and what does he want? He’s desperate, so I need to do what he tells me to do, she thought. If I anger him, I might end up like Floyd, dead.
The old man's screaming was getting on his nerves.
As soon as she moved Danya fired one shot into the old man’s head and when the screaming stopped he said, “I hate noise. I need food.”
“I will cook for you.”
“I want red meat and something hot.”
“Steak and eggs?”
The Russian looked her over closely and discovered she wasn’t as old as he thought she was. He replied, “Yes, I still want a little blood in the meat and scramble my eggs.”
In an effort to get him to leave so she could check on Floyd, she said, “Come with me into the kitchen and I’ll feed you. Once you eat, I want you out of my home. You didn’t need to kill Floyd, he would have given you the shirt off his back.”
“I’ll leave then, but will take your car. As for Floyd, I had to kill him because he was a male and had a gun beside him. I never take any chances.”
She walked into the kitchen with Danya behind her and moved to the stove, where she began to cook for him.
As she flipped the steak in a skillet, she asked, “Are you going to kill me when you leave?”
“Not unless you force me by fighting. I’m no bloodthirsty crazed killer by nature, but your Floyd had a gun beside him, so he was a threat.”
“Your English is perfect, but I know you’re not an American. Where are you from?”
“Chicago, and grew up in the slums with a lot of foreign children. I think I may have picked up an accent playing with them. Now, cook and stop the questions.” He lied.
I don’t want to anger him, or he’ll kill me when he leaves, she thought and flipped his eggs over.
After he ate, he stood and said, “Come with me, so I can tie you up before I leave.”
They moved back into the living room and Floyd moaned as she passed him. I thought he was dead, she thought.
“Sit on the sofa and I’ll tie your hands and feet. Once I finish, I will leave, and no harm will come to you. I’ll not tie you very tight, because you cannot alert anyone quickly after you get free. I know your phone does not work because of the war.” he tied her hands and feet loosely and then took the keys to the older car from the bulletin board where it was hanging.
Minutes later he was in the car, which was beat up and looked terrible. The dash had crumpled up and empty chewing tobacco pouches, cigarette butts filled the ashtray, and the floorboard was covered with discarded and empty fast food bags and papers. He opened the door, threw away an almost full tobacco spit cup, cleared the dash and removed and tossed the ashtray. He then threw all the fast food papers from his side of the car out of the door. He couldn’t see how anyone could drive a vehicle as nasty as this one. He then threw his rifle and extra pistols in the front seat.
Five minutes later, he was zooming down the road at 40 MPH, watching for potholes. The moon was still out and lights from the old car were not very bright, but they worked good enough as long as he didn’t speed down the roadway.
He’d driven maybe forty miles and the sun was up, when a Russian stepped from the woods and screamed, “Stop. Now!” He noticed the man was speaking English.
Coming to a full stop, he rolled down the window and said in Russian, “Sergeant, I am Senior Sergeant Danya Filippovna, and I’ve just escaped the Americans.”
“I assume you have no papers, correct, Sergeant?” the man asked.
“I have no identification on me but HQ can identify me quickly enough. I am with the Spetsnaz.”
“Pull over to the right, off the road, and then come with me.” He did as instructed and they soon walked into a well defended camp with over 100 Russians. The Russian guard had not threatened him, but he was alert and that made Danya smile. He noticed the man was taking him to intelligence, who’d quickly determine who he was.
Entering a tent, the guard said, “Sir, this man claims he’s a member of Spetsnaz and escaped an American POW camp.”
A full Colonel, who was leaning over a map said, “Bring him to me and then you may leave, Sergeant.”
The man turned back to his map, mumbled something to the thin Captain beside him and then turned to Danya.
The man was completely normal as far as the escaped Russian was concerned and there was no reason he’d be remembered ten minutes from now. He was five feet and 10 inches, brown hair, black framed glasses and maybe 160 pounds. His brown eyes and even white teeth were not unusual. He saw no scars, birthmarks, or marks on the man’s deeply tanned face.
“Name and rank, soldier.”
“I am Senior Sergeant Filippovna of Spetsnaz, sir. We were attacked and I was taken prisoner by the Americans just last week. I escaped and here I am. You can radio my Commander in the field, Raven 19, and he will verify I am who I say I am easily enough or contact the intelligence section of Air Base Little Rock and they will also tell you I am who I claim to be.”
Turning his head to his radio operator, the Colonel said, “Corporal Vlasov, radio both the base and Raven 19 and see if they ever heard of Senior Sergeant Danya Filippovna.” Then pulling his Gryazev and Shipunov 9mm Gsh-18 pistol, he added, “Sergeant, if they’ve never heard of you, you are a dead man.”
“Of course, sir. Only, I am who I claim to be.”
“We will soon see, won’t we?”
Danya just nodded. He was tired, sleepy, and hungry again, but knew he’d not rest until the Colonel here debriefed him, once he verified his status.
“Sir, he was verified by Base and the call sign said he went missing during a mission. The description they gave of him was perfect. They also said he speaks English fluently.”
“Do you speak English, Sergeant?” The Colonel asked in English.
“Yes, I do, sir and very well, I think.”r />
Turning to Corporal Vlasov, the Colonel said, “Contact HQ and let them know we have a stray Spetsnaz warrior here with us and ask what we are to do with him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Placing his pistol back into its holster, the Colonel said, “Welcome back to friendly lines, Sergeant. Before I arm you and send you to a room to rest, I need to ask you a few questions about your escape.”
“Let us get it over with, sir. I am so tired, hungry, and sleepy right now.”
“I will not keep you long, and I am sure you are tired. Tell me your story from the minute you were captured until now and leave nothing out.”
An hour later, in his assigned room sipping a glass of vodka, he hoped what he’d told the Colonel helped the man. He passed on all of the structures and overall security at the POW Camp to the older man. He was trained to have an eye for detail, so that was easy for him. He even gave the normal times the guards changed and when the prisoners were fed.
The dining facility had remained open, just for him, and he’d chowed down on steak with vegetables. He’d been famished and finished the meal in no time at all. He then had three cups of tea.
As he sipped his drink, he wondered what his future would hold. He loved working with Spetsnaz, but knew he’d not re-enlist once he returned to Russia. He wanted to attend a university for free, paid for by the Army, and become an electrical engineer. He was passing up a job in the service with a good retirement plan and free medical and dental, but the discipline was rough and the officers and senior Sergeants often reverted to their fists when giving orders. The Army was just growing old to him.
His eyelids slowly fell as he watched the television, Russian of course, and before he fully realized he was tired, he was asleep.
The next morning, bright and early near 0500, a knock was heard on Danya’s door. He pulled the pistol he’d stolen from the prison guard and moved to the door.
He slipped the safety off on the pistol and asked, “Who is at my door?”
“I am Corporal Zaytsev and I have written orders for you.”
“I am going to open this door a bit and if you are not alone, I will kill you.” He then slipped the door open about two inches. Glancing out, he noticed a short man with glasses and maybe 18 years old.
He fully opened the door when he noticed the young man was in uniform.
“Enter, and what is this about orders?”
“They are sealed in an envelope, Senior Sergeant. I have no idea what they say, only my orders were to give them to you.” he handed a long white envelope to the man and then waited.
Danya opened the envelope and removed a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, read his orders and then smiled. He was going back out into the field with his unit again. He’d parachute in to them this evening.
“Good news, Senior Sergeant?”
“The best. I am to join my unit in the field.”
The Corporal thought the Sergeant had lost his mind. Who wanted to be in combat or maybe killed in this American War?
“That makes you happy?”
“Yes, but I do not expect you to understand. They have need of my English skills and with me gone they are short a man.”
“No, I do not understand, and I would not want to go out into combat areas with just a few other men.”
“That is why you are not in Spetsnaz, Corporal, and I am. We live, eat, drink and sleep our teams. We are all close, like a small family. Thank you and you are dismissed. I have an appointment with the hospital to look me over in an hour.”
After the man left, Danya changed into a clean uniform and walked to the hospital for a quick physical.
His lab results all came back in good shape, but it was during his time with the doctor that the sawbones said, “You are in fine shape, but you are tired, almost exhausted is what I think. Are you sure you want to parachute into the wild as tired as you are?”
“I must jump, and tonight. I am part of a team and right now they have need of me.”
“If you say so, but I suggest you get a couple of weeks of vodka and sleep.”
“No, sir, my team needs me. Nothing is more important than a man's team in trouble.”
“I am going to pass you, but promise me once you return to base you will take some time off and just relax.”
“Put that two weeks in my medical record and I will take the time off, once we return.”
“I have done that. Now, if you have nothing else to do, I suggest you sleep or at least rest before your next mission.”
Standing, putting his shirt back on and buttoning it, he said, “I will be fine, doctor, and nothing I have run into in combat is as rough as my training.”
“That may be so, but it only takes one mistake to be killed.”
“I am aware of that fact, doctor.”
“Just trying to help, but go, you do not need any help.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Hummmpppf.” the doctor said and left the room.
At 0300 hours, Danya and a load master were alone in the back of the four engine Antonov An-12, the Russians version of a C-130, or so most pilots said. He’d checked his parachute numerous times and his oxygen mask and small oxygen cylinder as well. He was ready to jump.
“Get ready to jump as I soon as I open the rear ramp, Sergeant.” the load master said.
He looked his gear over, put on his helmet and placed the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. They were entering the drop zone at 8,800 meters or 25,000 feet. The air outside the aircraft was blistering cold as Danya moved toward the lowered ramp. He stood at the ready and when the light turned green he’d go. As usual, a small animal was eating at his gut just before he left the aircraft. He’d jump and knew he would, because he was Spetsnaz.
Suddenly the red light near the door blinked red a few times and then turned a solid green. He took a few steps and felt himself fall from the aircraft, so he pulled the small handle near his left thigh and the oxygen bottle flooded the mask with oxygen. He went into a spread eagle position and felt himself stabilize as he dropped. Closely watching his altimeter, he knew he’d pull right at 500 feet and the opening would be rough. He’d purposely left his emergency chute behind, because if his main chute failed him he’d not have time to deploy a reserve parachute.
Looking down, he noticed the ground was coming up quickly. Glancing at his altimeter, he was at 5,000 feet. He continued to fall until he was near 500 feet and getting concerned, when his parachute deployed automatically. Opening shock was hard and he heard a loud, Wooofff when the chute opened. He knew more than one man who'd been injured when his parachute strap was over a ball or two. Glancing up at the nylon, he saw he had a good canopy and then pulled a lanyard to drop his field pack and additional weapons and ammo. He quickly assumed a landing position and waited for impact, and his wait would be short.
Since it was dark, he narrowly missed some trees and landed in a large field between two wide rolls of trees.
“Danya? You okay?” A low voice asked from long grasses.
“I am fine. Who are you?”
“I am Shura, do I not sound the same to you?”
“Not really but I never liked HALO jumps, so I'm still a bit nervous. I trust none of it to work properly.”
“That is why you are still alive. I trust nothing. Come with me, the Captain needs you.”
Chapter 5
John walked into his room to find Joy and Dolly laying on his cot. They looked to both be asleep, but the 95 pound German Shepherd opened her eyes, grinned, and then went back to sleep. It was hard to tell who Dolly loved the most, him or Joy. Undressing, John moved into his shower and washed well. As a soon to be General, his room was better than most, but during the years he’d been enlisted, all soldiers and airmen had a room like this and it was nothing special. He gave thought to his promotion and knew he was originally to have put it on the month earlier, and he had, but HQ said his promotion had slipped by 30 days. Next week he’d have the rank on to stay.
As a member of the resistance, he didn’t really think of himself as a General, not a real one, but if they ever got paid, he’d do fine.
He walked into his bedroom dressed in jeans, a blue polo shirt, and sandals. As he passed his cowboy hat, he picked it up and put it on.
“Y’all gonna sleep all day, baby?”
Joy opened one eye and said, “I might, why not?”
“Let’s go eat, and I’ll buy us both a big steak.”
She laughed and said, “They don’t carry steak, and we eat what’s on the menu or go hungry. Besides, we don’t have any currency, so how can you buy?”
“We can pretend it’s steak, right?” he asked with a smile.
“I guess we can, and it does sound so yummy, huh?”
“Yep, that’s why I brought it up. Big, thick steak, baked tater, green beans, tossed salad, and apple pie with ice cream for dessert.”
“My goodness, that sounds like heaven to me.”
“Come on, get up. I want to know if you’d like to go with me to Paris.”
“Paris, Texas? Not much there in my opinion.”
“No, ma’am, Paris, France for about a week.”
“Really? You’re not joking? Why?”
“I can’t tell you, but you’ll guess soon enough. Yes or no. Go or stay here? I need a Colonel with me to do my leg work. If you say yes, then I can tell you why. Dolly will remain here, of course.”
“Of course I want to go, if you are being serious.”
“I will be on the peace committee that is to meet the Russians next week.”
“Just how am I to pay for this or anything while there?”
“We’ll be issued Euro funds and we’ll have enough coins to pay for our lodging, meals, and a little spending money. I’ll give you my extra money, because other than a steak there, I have no use to shop for anything. Now, there could be a touch of danger involved, and I have to tell you that up front. If you say no, I’ll fully understand.”
“Like there is no danger staying here? Yes, of course I’ll go.”