"Good, send my wounded and dead out on the first aircraft, and we will take the second."
"Alright, we can do that. I need for all of second squad to help the dead and injured to the clearing just north of here."
Fifteen minutes later the Sergeant heard the aircraft in the air and approaching.
The radioman for the second squad said, "Pop smoke. Roger that, grape. Come in, and the landing zone, 'LZ' is cold."
The chopper slowly lowered to the earth and the Senior Sergeant was tired, hungry and impatient now. He helped load his wounded and dead and then motioned the helicopter away. As it slowly rose, head down and tail up, he watched the second aircraft touch the ground.
"Move for the helicopter now!" he yelled to be heard over the rotor blades. He noticed Ivancheckov was able to walk and was right behind him, and he quickly moved toward the aircraft.
They climbed aboard just as a line of machine gun bullets stitched the helicopter from nose to tail and back again. Ivancheckov jerked violently and then collapsed on the chopper floor. The door gunner opened up, his gatling gun sending thousands of bullets to where he thought the fire had come from. The aircraft began to rise, but the Sergeant could smell something burning and at times thick black smoke entered the cargo hold, moved there by the rotating blades of the helicopter.
The Crew chief who operated the gatling gun on the other door handed him a headset with a microphone.
". . . Roger that Base, I have two fire lights glowing and my hydraulics indicate I have a fluid leak someplace. The aircraft is just harder to fly without power from the hydraulics."
"Understand, Pioneer One. Return to base or do you wish to call an in flight emergency at this time?"
"Negative, but I will call one when I have the base visual. Fire lights just went off, so the agent discharge worked or it has burned itself out. I will know more once I return, because the lights will come back on if the fire has spread."
"Copy, and return to base."
"Pioneer One, I am returning to base. Out."
The next twenty minutes were rough on Senior Sergeant Filippovna as he waited for the fire to return or for them to explode. Hot fluids were dropping from overhead pipes on the helicopter and some were very hot. He checked Ivancheckov and while he had a heartbeat it was weak and irregular. He didn't expect the private to survive, but he did apply a dressing to the back injury and then the chest for the exit hole.
"Uh, tower this is Pioneer One and I have you visual. I wish to declare an in flight emergency and request a straight in approach."
"Copy that, Pioneer, and you are approved for a straight in approach and good luck."
"If any of you pray in the cargo hold, now would be a perfect time to say a few good words about us to the Lord." the pilot said to the crew.
A large piece of sheet metal fell from the aircraft and zipped by the open cargo doors and then fell to earth. They'd just crossed the base fence when the pilot said, "Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is Pioneer One, going down now. I repeat. Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is Pioneer One, going down now."
The pilot still had some controls working, but not many. They began to auto rotate to the ground and they struck hard. They did land right side up, so they were lucky.
"Kill the electrics!" the co-pilot yelled.
The pilot flipped an overhead switch, moved it, and then said, "Everyone out now!"
"I have emergency vehicles at our 12 O'clock." one of the gunners said.
Filippovna held Putinov in his arms like a baby as he walked toward the first ambulance he saw. The vehicle neared and then stopped about ten feet away. Two medics rushed to him and they were pulling a gurney. They placed the injured man on the gurney and then listened for a heartbeat.
"I got a heartbeat, but it's faint. Let's get him in the ambulance so we can work on him." He was placed on the gurney face down to get to the entrance hole of the bullet the easiest.
Once in the ambulance, the medic cut the shirt Putinov was wearing down the middle of his back. He then pulled open the cloth and began working on the back injury, as the other medic started an IV with fluids and blood.
"Get in, Senior Sergeant, you do not look any better than your comrade here."
"I am not hit."
"I disagree, because you have part of your earlobe missing. Just enough of a wound to earn you a wounded in combat award." The medic looked at the machines he had hooked up to the wounded Putinov and hit one gauge with his hand to get the needle on the thing to move. It jerked right to a number that the Sergeant didn't understand.
"He's going into a cardiac arrest!" one medic yelled.
Pulling out a syringe, the other medic said, "160 mg of aspirin first!"
"Base, Ambulance 1, have a patient in full cardiac arrest and have administered 160 mg of aspirin and his heart rhythm is almost back to normal. He remains unconscious and has a severe back to front bullet chest wound."
"Roger, copy. The team is ready for his arrival."
A few minutes later they pulled up in front of a hospital and everyone unloaded and the patient was being wheeled in as the professionals worked hard to save Ivancheckov from death. The Senior Sergeant followed everyone inside and decided to get a physical to make sure he was really not injured.
For some reason, following the others and being the last in the building, saddened the old crusty Sergeant. He realized he was getting too old to bounce back from missions like he did in his twenties. He felt in his heart it was time for him to retire.
Chapter 13
At the bedroom door, as the body was slowly being pulled away, he stepped into the other room and fired twice. He was out of sight quickly, but following the shots came a loud scream of pain and a thud.
"John, are you safe?"
"I'm fine, but I have a dying man on my hands."
"I'm coming there."
She moved to him and spotted a man laying on his back with blood seeping from two holes in his chest. She knew he was bleeding hard on the inside.
"Who are you?" John asked the downed man.
"I . . . I am . . . Erick Cotilla. We’re . . . boun . . . bounty hunters."
“Work on him as I call for the police and check our guards." he said, and then moved for the phone.
"Hello, room service? I'd like to report an attempted robbery and request an ambulance and police."
"Are you sure, General?"
"Pretty sure, since I have two bodies in my room and I suspect two more, my guards, that are in fatal condition, only I've not looked them over closely yet."
"Yes, sir. I'll see it's done."
John found the two guards in serious condition. Wilcox had his throat sliced by a knife, but the knife edge had only cut muscle and the wound had bled a lot. Springer had been shot three times, but since he'd not died, John figured he'd live if the ambulance was fast enough. Twenty minutes later, two medics walked in and started working on the two guards.
A police officer walked in and asked, "Did you shoot all four of these people? Oh, I'm Officer Tom Nightingly."
"No, sir, only two, and the other two were my guards. They took out my guards and then entered my room. I don't know why they tried to rob me, I don't have but about twenty dollars in my wallet."
"That won't cover the cost of your room."
"My room and meals are covered by the partisans."
"How can that be with the Russians out to kill all of you?"
"It just is, and that's all you need to know."
"Hmmm. Do you have the names of these four?"
"The tall man is called Wilcox, or that's the name he gave me. The other is Springer and they work for the partisan CIA."
"And the other two?"
"I have no idea who they are, and I've never seen them before. The smallest of the two told me his name was Erick Cotilla, but I don't really know if it's the truth or not."
"Don't worry about it then, because I'll run the prints of all four when I get back to the station."
"Anything on them?"
"The guards had CIA identification in their wallet. One of them had 53 dollars and the other had two. Nothing on your intruders at all, and I mean not a cent."
"Anything else?"
"I handed what we found on them to the woman. She will give it to the police before they leave. Other than that, nothing else I need."
"Thank you." John said.
As the two injured were wheeled away by the medics, John finished up with the law dog.
A clerk from the hotel neared as the policeman walked away to take some photographs, "Any of our guests hurt?"
"No, we're fine. This was not the hotels' fault, and it has happened before. I'm just tired."
"Happened before?"
"Yes, I'm a partisan in the war with Russia, so people have tried to kill me before."
"Do the Russians know you are here? I suspect they do, huh?"
"They know. Now, unless you have some serious questions let me get back to sleep, but send up a person to clean up this mess. I have blood all over the place."
"Yes, sir, right away sir." the clerk said, and then spoke into a portable radio he held in his hand, "Send up some folks to clean the blood and gore in this room and to tidy up a little. Hurry, because our guest is getting sleepy."
"Thank you." John said as soon as the clerk stopped talking.
Turning to the General, the clerk said, "I have people that will be here in minutes. Once they are done, if you need anything else, just let me know."
"I'll do that." he replied, wanting everyone to leave so he and Joy could try to relax.
He walked back in the bedroom and said, "Cleaners will be here in a bit. I imagine it'll take an hour for this place to be cleaned."
"What about new guards?"
There was a knock on the door. John walked to the door, pulled his pistol, flipped the safety off and said, "Who is it?"
"New security guards, General."
"I'm going to open the door and if you're lying to me, you're a dead man, understand?"
"Yes, sir."
He opened the door and asked, "Give me both of your identification cards."
He handed them to the General and waited.
"Which of you is Grant?"
The taller of the two said, "That's me."
Looking at the second man, John said, "You must be Melton?"
"I am, sir. We have been assigned to be your evening security until you leave New York, sir."
"Who do you work for?"
"Since you're coming in from Europe, we work for Desmond in Paris. We are CIA, sir, and we'll try to never bother you. Melton will be inside."
"I'm familiar with the routine, Agent Grant. Take your assigned positions, please. There will be some maids here a bit to clean up blood from some killings and wounded. Let them pass, but Melton, keep a close eye on them. The price on my head alone is one million dollars and Joy must be worth something."
"Joy, is worth $500,000, sir. We checked both of you out before we came over."
"You two are assigned to see no one collects that bounty, understand?"
"Yes, sir. I see your maids and they just got off the elevator."
"Have them show id and then Melton will put them to work."
John left the door open, and joined Joy on the sofa, where she was watching television, an old western with John Wayne.
"New guards?" she asked after John sat.
"Yep, and I feel better with them here too. Help me keep an eye on the place while they are in here. It wouldn't take 2 minutes for them to place a bomb and blow this place to hell and back."
Of course, I'll keep my eyes on them."
Three of the maids were Asians and one was white. They entered with Melton right behind them. Blood was wiped up, gore was soaked up with mops, and the place was sprayed down with a fragrance to kill the smells of death. An hour later, the women left, but there was something about the four that worried John.
"Melton, I want an explosives sniffing dog up here and now. I don't trust those women and there was no way we could watch them every minute."
"John, do you think there is explosives in the room?"
Turning to Joy he said, "Yes, I do. I want you dressed and go to the restaurant and have something to eat or drink until we find what was left behind."
"What about you?"
"I'm staying here to see what they find."
"Be careful, John."
"Sir," Melton said, "the policeman at the hotel has drugs and explosives dogs; they're sending him right up. The police use them for those arriving on international flights to check visitors to the hotel."
"I wasn't checked when we arrived." John replied.
"No, you weren't checked, but you can be damned sure your bags were. The reason you weren't checked is because you're a General. Normally partisans are not checked as long as they don't leave the hotel. Everyone who leaves, due to the Russians running things, are checked as they leave the door. Of course, the Russians don't trust any partisan, but since you were on the team that reached a peace treaty, you are the exception."
"You mean to tell me that people walk in here and say, "I'm John Smith, and I'm an American partisan?"
"No, of course not, but any healthy man or woman who comes into New York from a partisan controlled part of the states is treated like a partisan, because most are." Melton said, and then checked the time on his watch.
"Well, that makes sense or they are supporting the partisans. I wonder how peace will change things?"
"All the Russians want to do is survive with minimum losses over the next six months. No Russian wants to be the last man or woman killed in America."
"I can understand that, but any killed during the cease fire will be those units on both sides that fail to get the truce notification in time. Officially the cease fire starts today at 1800 and it will last six months, which is the date they all are to be gone."
There was a knock on the main door.
John moved to the door, "Yes, who is there?"
"K9 unit, sir. I'm officer James Cuvier. Do you need an explosives sniffer in your room?"
John opened the door and said, "Enter, officer. I had some maids here a little earlier, but there is a big reward on my head, and people keep trying to collect the money. I didn't trust those maids, but it's just a gut feeling. I have absolutely no reason not to trust them, but a feeling."
"Well, Renée and I will soon know if this room is safe or not. Come Renée, let's check the back bedroom first."
The back room was clean, so they entered the bathroom and the dog alerted. Opening the doors below the sink, he discovered a Square box made from tin.
The officer picked it up and said, "Found it in the bathroom." He entered the living room and placed the bomb on the coffee table.
"It's set to go off in four minutes, so what now?" John said, looking the bomb over closely.
The officer said, "Send the people not needed to safety right now. I will need one of you to hold the phone as I try to disarm this bomb." He pulled a cell phone from his shirt pocket and punched in some numbers.
"Hello, Hugues. I need some help for a bomb some maids left in a room. Looks to be about a pound or two of an old explosives compound, C4. It has a wrist watch for a timer and there are three wires I can see clearly. One blue, one yellow and the last is red. Yes, I have my wire cutters. Hurry, now, because I only have two minutes left."
Hugues then said, "You need to leave the wires from the timers alone, but where the wires slide into the detonator, you want to cut the yellow wire first, no! Make that the blue wire. Yes, the blue wire, I'm positive, the blue wire."
Locating the blue wire, the officer handed the phone to John and said, "I have to cut the blue wire first. Hold the phone for me now."
"Yes, cut the blue wire an
d then I will tell you what is next."
"Tell the man on the phone, because I will be cutting wires." the explosives officer said.
Looking at the General, Cuvier said, "Tell him to hurry, I've got less than a minute to stop this thing from killing us."
"We must take the time to do this correctly or you'll die before a minute. Have you cut the blue wire?"
"Yes, next wire, please and hurry. I have 30 seconds and then I'll be gone in a bang with lots of smoke."
"Do Not Cut the red wire, but pull it from the detonator slowly." Hugues said.
John looked at the timer, and they had 8 seconds left. He told him what the EOD man had said.
At the 3 second mark, Cuvier pulled the red wire from the detonator and the watch went off beeping a few short seconds later.
"I can hear the beeping of the watch here, so you disarmed it."
John looked at Cuvier and saw his face covered in sweat.
"Yes, but next time be a little faster for me. You scared ten years of my life away. Damn me, I think I have wet my trousers, Hugues." the officer said after he took the phone from John.
"All of that was a guess, but a good guess I think. Homemade bombs aren't always well put together and less than ten percent will go off on time."
"When do they go off?"
"Most go off five minutes or so early, or late. That's why the timer was not set for less than an hour, so the maids could get away." Hugues said.
"I must leave now, my friend, but we'll talk when I am off duty. Goodbye." Cuvier said and then closed the phone.
John let out a deep breath and then said, "Come with me, Cuvier, and I'll give you a drink of something stiff.”
"I could use a hard drink about now, General. I thought we were goners when I had a hard time pulling the red wire out. My hands are still shaking." He held them out, watched them shake, and then gave an ill felt laugh.
John walked to the bar followed by the officer, and once there, he poured both of them a double shot of bourbon. He handed one glass to Cuvier and then picked up the other.
The dog remained by the disabled explosives and never moved.
The Fall of America | Book 10 | No Winners Page 14
