The Fall of America | Book 10 | No Winners

by Benton, W. R.

"We agree not to speak to the press about why you are leaving, just that you are pulling out of America."

  "That is good too."

  "Yes, but what of the POWs both sides have?" the American Colonel asked, and he then took a sip of his scalding coffee.

  "How about a one for one exchange?" Yanovich said.

  "We only have 307 Russian prisoners, but how many of our people do you have?"

  "We have twenty-two hundred Americans.”

  "There is no way we can just accept 300 Americans back and let you keep the others. How about you just release all you have and we'll do the same?"

  "What of your civilians we have imprisoned in gulags?" the Colonel asked.

  "All prisoners released by both sides is the only deal we'll accept." John said, and met the Russian General's eyes.

  "I have seen you or your photograph, General." General Yanovich suddenly said. "Who are you?"

  "My name, other than John is not important, but I used to lead a terrorist group, according to your state police, but we were patriots and not terrorists."

  "The name of your group?"

  "The Aces." John said and watched with interest how each Russian reacted.

  The political officer said, "I have never heard of them."

  "That is because you have never been to America, sir." Colonel Danilka said.

  "I guess so."

  "I found many of my men and women dead with an Ace of Spades card in their mouths. So, you were their leader, no doubt. There is still a million dollar reward for you or for your death. You are responsible for the nuclear suitcase bomb in Jackson, Mississippi that has killed or made sick over a million of my people."

  "I thought the reward was in rubles?"

  "It was when first put out, but no one would take the job, so it was changed to dollars a couple of months ago. You are a vicious man, General."

  "We are at war, sir. I will do whatever it takes to win this war to get all of you out of my country." John replied. "Just as you would do if someone invaded your home, General."

  Colonel Franklin Thomas said "You've hardly fought an honorable war yourself. What of all the public executions of my people? Thousands were found hanging from telephone poles, dead in fields after being machine gunned to death, or in burned buildings with the chains still wrapped around the doors where they were locked in and then killed using fire? Your countrymen, sir, are savages."

  "We go to war to win, sir." Yanovich said, and his face was red with anger as he attempted to think of atrocities the Americans committed.

  "Gentlemen, please. We are here to talk of peace and of Russia leaving the United States, not to throw up the horrors of war." John said.

  "Most of your commanders should be on trial for war crimes, but instead they walk free. It is a well known fact Russia owns the United Nations. I am sick of the big bully that Russia is, and perhaps they are not ready for peace."

  "We must have peace."

  "Since you got a hold of our tail, you've discovered it's not easy to let go, huh?"

  "What does that mean?" the General said.

  "I do not understand, because you have no tail." Gavrila said.

  Try as he might, all day long the little jabs at each other continued, and John could not keep them focused on the treaty.

  Seeing the anger and now the jabbing at each other, Smith said, "Gentlemen, it's almost 1600, so let us retire until morning and we'll start all over again. Can I get a second?"

  "I second the motion to adjourn until in the morning." Danilka said.

  Striking the table with a wooden mallet, Smith said, "This meeting will start at 0700 in the morning. Right now it is closed."

  After the Americans left, Colonel Gavrila asked the General, "Sir, why did you let that American General anger you?"

  "The sonofabitch angered me because he alone is responsible for millions of dead Russians, and some have not even been born yet."

  "Excuse me, sir, but you're not making sense to me. Remember, I know nothing of him and obviously you know him well or at least his reputation."

  “He detonated a suitcase nuclear bomb, one of our own I might add, in Jackson, Mississippi and killed a hundred thousand Americans and Russians in a heartbeat. For that action, he is to receive the Medal of Honor in the future. The medal will be given in the very near future, because he is so popular with the resistance.

  Then, years before he copied the killings we did. At one point the Russian Commander had ten Americans killed by tying them to poles with barbed wire and then burning them to death with petrol. Well, the following week we discovered twenty Russians burned to death the same way. On each Russian was a note and it read, 'From this day on, if any Americans die horrible deaths at the hands of the Russian bear, then we will double the number of those selected for retaliation and kill them in the same way.' He was a man of his word."

  "Finally, we got a Commander in that did not do mass killings and our losses dropped 50% over the course of the first month. I have personally chased him all over the swamps and slews of Mississippi and never found anything but footprints. Our troops called him the Cowboy Ghost, because he always wore a cowboy hat on missions and we could never follow him. I have had enough of that man and will pray those out to kill all members of this peace table get to him and do what I could never do as a Commander, kill that cowboy."

  "Sir, you sound rather scared of the man." the political officer said.

  "No, I am not afraid of him, but I damned sure respect him."

  "Come, all of us need to eat." Danilka said and picked up his hat.

  Over the next three days the meetings usually turned ugly, with tempers growing hot as the Russian General and John butted heads.

  Finally, Senator Smith said, "Gentlemen, after four days of meetings, we're no closer to a peace agreement now than when we first started. I suggest the two of you, both senior officers, remember why we are here and put your personal feuds aside long enough to find peace. We're not here to like each other, but to find a way for Russia to leave American soil. If your attitudes about each other do not change, we'll have to cancel the meetings and have others try to find peace. I want you both to stop acting like kids, and behave as General officers should."

  They both agreed and things moved quickly after that.

  "Our only serious demand, really, is all heavy equipment and weapons remain in place when the Russians leave. That means your armor, artillery, graders, bulldozers, and other construction equipment remains. This request does not include aircraft or individual weapons of the soldiers."

  "What of ammo and individual personal equipment?"

  "If you'll agree, we will take it as well. Anything you leave behind is automatically ours."

  "Okay, agreed. What about a leaving deadline?" the Russian General asked.

  "Six months is our goal for all of the Russians to be gone."

  "That is reasonable, I think." General Yanovich said with a smile. If the peace treaty was established by a team he was leading, he'd soon be gaining another star on his collar and a feather in his cap.

  "Any other aspects of the peace treaty that we need to discuss?"

  "I think we need to discuss, uh, those injured in Russian hospitals that need to stay here for a few weeks or months. There are —." A loud explosion filled the room, dust and smoke filled the air, and tables were knocked over.

  "Is everyone okay?" John asked as he stood from the debris that the explosion had created.

  Coughing up dust, Colonel Thomas said, "I've an injured arm, but I think the Senator is dead. He's covered in blood."

  John glanced at the downed politician and saw nails of various sizes stuck in the table next to the man. He made his way toward the downed man, but he noticed his hearing was messed up. He'd more or less read Thomas' lips when he spoke and didn't hear him well. He would find out later one ear drum was ruptured and the other damaged. He felt for a pulse on Smith and found nothing. Picking up a tablecloth he covered the dead man. Thank God,
Joy was in her room fighting some minor illness.

  He moved to the Russians and found the Political Officer dead as he'd get, the other Russian Colonel was not injured, but he was in shock and useless right then. He found the General severely injured and his right arm was missing at the elbow. His chest had three nails in it, a nail in his left thigh, and a chunk of glass from somewhere embedded in his lower stomach. As he worked on the man, the General said, "I cannot see, and I mean not at all. Why can I not see?"

  "Your face is covered with dirt, General."

  "How are my people?”

  “You have one dead and the remaining two of you are injured enough to be placed in a hospital. I'm slightly injured, as is my Colonel, but my Senator is dead as hell."

  "I hear emergency vehicles!" Yanovich said.

  "Good, probably an ambulance or two in the bunch. All of us need to go to the hospital and be given a good looking over and treated if needed."

  "I agree, oh, the pain is starting now." The Russian said through clenched teeth.

  "This, I guess, puts an end to the peace meeting, huh?" John said to no one in particular.

  "Have the agreement typed up and I will sign it even if I am in the hospital. This attempt at peace must go through, and quickly to stop the riots in Russia. Type . . . type it up . . . and . . . I will sign." The Russian General said and then screamed in pain.

  The dazed Colonel neared John, handed him a pint bottle of vodka and said, "This is all the pain medication we have right now. There is little left of this room. Do you think it was a bomb?"

  "Yes, I do. They packed nails in the bomb, too, to injure more of us than normal. I suspect it was placed by our hit men and women. What of our Russian guards? We had two by the door and another two by the exit into the kitchen." He handed the bottle to the General and watched him down about a half of a pint.

  "Dead, I suspect. The guards were Spetsnaz, the best of Russia."

  "Colonel, anyone can be killed by a bomb." John said.

  "I am suddenly dizzy." The Russian said and picked up a chair that had blown over and then sat down. A minute later he was puking.

  "Colonel, lay down, because you're suffering from shock." John said as three people ran into the room.

  One man said, "I am a doctor and I am here to help, if I can."

  "I am a police officer for the hotel. I have contacted my desk Sergeant and I hear the sirens of emergency vehicles outside the Hotel now."

  "I am another policeman. I will stand guard just in case the bad guys want to make sure all of you are dead."

  Two men with a stretcher entered and John yelled, "Over to me. The most seriously injured are ready to leave. I think the Russian General will die if he doesn't get medical assistance within ten minutes or so. The other Russian is in shock and the last one is dead. I have two injured and a prior American Senator dead. My wounded are able to walk."

  "We'll see all of you are taken for a medical examination, sir." The General was quickly loaded on the stretcher and gone in just seconds. Danilka followed the General and the medics as if drunk and with a stagger. His eyes had a million mile stare and it would take days for him to be normal again.

  Other medics took Thomas and John. John knew he was slightly cut on the forehead, something had struck his back hard, and his left leg was stiff. As he was being packed to the ambulance on the stretcher, Joy suddenly appeared. She was told she could go with John to the hospital. She kissed and hugged him as he was made somewhat comfortable in the emergency vehicle.

  After a close looking over by the doctors in the emergency room, John was told by Doctor Rémy Girard, head of the trauma unit, that he had a slight concussion from something striking him in the head, thus the cut, and he'd pulled a six inch piece of long narrow glass from his back, and his leg had a nail go through it. The leg wound was wide, so it had struck him flat. He was lucky the glass had missed his major organs and the nail was a short finishing nail, not a ten penny nail. John would be staying in the hospital a few days until he stabilized. Thomas had been admitted as well.

  When an officer, a captain in the police force, came to interview him about the bomb, John told the man who he was and why he was there. He requested police guards for their rooms and men were assigned within 15 minutes. The Russians had guards as well, but they were Spetsnaz and somehow John felt his room wasn't as safe as the Russian Generals.

  "I thought you were dead. You were covered in blood, but since they washed you, you look alive again." Joy said as she held his hand and sat in a chair beside his bed.

  "You need to go to the Hotel and let Desmond and Koro know where we are. Tell him, I have police guards and then maybe he'll drop you off here."

  "I'd not thought of that. Yes, they need to know. Anything else?"

  "I had a clipboard with me. On it is the peace agreement. I need for you to type it out and list the conditions of their withdrawal. I need it quickly, because General Gena Yanovich has agreed to the terms. If you type it, I can get him to sign it before he is transferred to a Russian hospital from his hotel. I need the signatures of all six of us. However, on the signature block of Russian Colonel Galkin Gavrila, and American Senator Dwayne Smith, type deceased. I know this is a rush job, but you're all I have to bring peace to America. I hate to do this to you, since you don't feel well."

  "I have your clipboard there next to the lamp. It is blood stained but I can read it. I'll get one of the policemen downstairs to take me to the hotel and then I'll type the agreement as I wait for Desmond and Koro."

  "It's imperative that you bring the treaty here as soon as it's finished. Then I'll need to send the agreement and information to the Partisans in the States. I have an office and phone number to their fax machine too. Go, and do the best job you can, baby. I love you and I always will."

  "You're sure you are okay?"

  "Yes, now go, please. This is the most important mission you've ever had in the partisans. Go."

  "How long do I have?"

  "I don't know, but maybe just a few hours."

  "I'll be right back then. I'm a fast typist. Later, sweetheart." She picked up the clipboard and left the room in a rush.

  John relaxed, because the treaty was out of his hands now, and it was up to Joy to save the mission. He was asleep in minutes.

  How long he'd been asleep he didn't know, but his phone rang. Picking it up, he heard a Russian accented voice say, "I hope you are feeling better, and I am in need to say thank you for saving my life. I would have bled to death if not for you. What is the status of the peace agreement, General?"

  "It is being typed right now, I imagine. Why?"

  "Moscow is sending a special plane, it is a specially modified medical Antonov An-140 for me. I want to sign the peace agreement before I leave, but I am sure the pilots of a medical aircraft will not wait for me to sign some papers. If I do not sign, well, then the process of establishing peace will have to start all over in a couple of weeks."

  "I can do no more, sir, than I am doing now. It's being worked on. When are they arriving to take you home?"

  "I heard they are inbound, but I would imagine within three or four hours I will be gone. I have been ordered home and have no choice, so I have to go."

  "I understand. People don't realize Generals get orders to follow too. Let me call my helper and see what the status is of the agreement. I'll call you back in a few minutes, okay?"

  "That is fine, John. I am not going anywhere. Call me when you have an answer."

  John quickly hung up and then called his room.

  "Hello." Joy said in a pleasant voice.

  "It's me, John, baby. How is the typing coming?"

  "Okay, except the legal layout is time consuming for me. Each sentence is numbered as well. I should be done in about three hours."

  "That won't do. The Russian General is being flown home for medical treatment and he leaves here in three hours."

  "I'm typing as fast as I can, John, honey. I'll also get it the
re as quickly as I can. Hold on, Desmond wants to talk with you about the bombing."

  "Hello, General?"

  "Yes, what do you need, Desmond?"

  "Just to update your intelligence, sir. The Mafia was behind the bomb hit on all six of you here at the hotel and the reward is in dollars and not Russian rubles. I suspect that's why there have been so many attacks."

  "So, they made 2 million dollars with the bomb."

  "Yes, sir."

  "We have not released the name of those killed or the survivors, so they don't know you're alive or dead. The French police stated on television they would release the names of the deceased once their families in America and Russia were notified."

  "Good. Now I need you to bring the peace agreement to me as soon as you can. The Russian General wants to sign it before they take him back to Russia for medical care. Get it here as quickly as you can. He leaves in about three hours, the same amount of time Joy needs to type the blasted thing. It's thick and a lot of words, but if he doesn't sign this copy of the agreement, then it'll have to be done over and they'll have to start from scratch again."

  "I'll bring it to you as fast as I can once it's done, sir."

  "How is Koro and his injury?"

  "He is at home now and doing well. He still has pain, but he has pain medication."

  "Keep an eye on him, he's a valuable team player."

  "Thank you, sir. I'll tell him what you said about him. Anything else, General?"

  "No, that's all I need. Remember the hurry I'm in, so we can return with peace and put an end to this Russian war."

  "The minute she finishes we'll be headed your way, sir."

  "Thank you, Desmond, and goodbye."

  The time passed quickly for John, but not for Joy. Some of the words in the agreement she could not read the handwriting, so she guessed at many words.

  Two hours and fifteen minutes later she typed the last word.

  She tossed the last paper on the stack and said, "Let's get to the hospital, because we only have about 15 minutes."

  Grabbing the keys from a hook, near the door, Desmond said, "Let's move, and no traffic lights or stop signs will slow us down."